At least the windows at the front of the school house were large and let plenty of light in. This was no gloomy historic building. He took comfort knowing his mate had been graced with so much light each day that she awoke in this home.
The windows continued to stretch up the length of the house as Graeme arrived on the second floor. At the top of each of the three long rectangular windows was a small window in the shape of a half moon.
The brick of even the interior walls between rooms was breathtaking, and Graeme paused at the top of the steps to appreciate how this had without-a-doubt been a schoolhouse. It was evident in every detail.
The first room at the top of this floor and the closest to the front of the house had a typical school door. It was an old cherry wood with an inset window, which had been covered with a delicate curtain from the inside. Another rectangular window extended above the door to reveal the ornately carved white tin ceilings tiles. This was certainly a beautiful place to look at.
Graeme approached that room first. When he opened the door, he was met with August's scent. He took a deep inhale and smiled.
The room was simple with little flourishes of a funky, hippy side that he hadn't seen but that didn't surprise him. The brick walls were softened over her bed with strings of fairy lights where photos were clipped in between. He leaned in to take a closer look and saw candid photos of her mom and what looked to be stylistic shots from Maiden Rock.
On another wall, there was a purple, red, and gold mandala tapestry. He sat on her bed and looked around at every detail—each one having been selected and touched by his mate.
A nightlight on her bedside table had cut out shapes of stars, and he reached to turn it on. Then he laid back in her bed, surrounded by her scent, as he watched the faint ghosts of celestial bodies scatter and slowly turn around him, vanishing in the flood of daylight from the windows.
A creak downstairs jolted him awake, and he looked out the window with the sudden realization that he had fallen asleep in August's bed. The hours of driving must have finally caught up to him. It appeared to still be too early for her stepdad to have arrived home from St Paul, but with another creak from the first floor, he knew he was no longer alone in the house.
He quietly sat up and realized he was also still naked after shifting from his wolf form to sneak into the house. Fuck. This was not good. How could he have let down his guard like this? Well, he knew how—being surrounded by the calming, intoxicating scent of August.
His eyes narrowed toward the stairs when he heard soft footsteps climbing the creaky wood floor there. Quickly, he stripped the white sheet from under her comforter and wrapped it around his waist. By that time, whoever was approaching had heard the movement, and he could sense them standing cautious and unmoving on the other side of the door.
The door slowly creaked open, and on the other side was a petite woman with long white dreads that loosened at the ends. She had golden olive skin and deep brown eyes. Graeme stood, holding the sheet around his waist, and they both stared at each other, speechless.
"A lycan alpha?" she whispered, her hand still gracing the door. "Are you here for me?" she asked cautiously, but she was clearly trying to make sense of the picture before her. He seemed just as stunned as she was.
"You're a Winter," he said aloud. Her features were easily recognizable as one of the Winter alyko. They were all incredibly petite with the same complexion of skin, and they had that characteristic glow that all alyko seemed to have.
She tilted her head in response. "I am. Penelope Winter. And you are?"
Penelope Winter was here? Why? The shock showed on his face, and he swallowed. "Graeme Hallowell."
The recognition lit in her eyes. "Hallowell. What are you doing here? Don't you track strays now?"
"I do. I used to," he cleared his throat. "I actually wanted to find you—to talk to you, but that's not why I am here." He looked down at August's bed, and she saw how his face softened with it. Penelope gasped softly when her eyes found the mark on his neck.
"She's your mate?" she said, finally understanding. "That explains why we have been unable to find her. She was there the whole time."
Something fierce flashed in Graeme's eyes as they snapped back to her, and she held her hands up in surrender. "I do not wish to take her from you. I care only that she is safe."
"But Eliade wants her back," he growled.
"Yes, but my interests—and when I say my interests, I mean the interests of all alyko—they do not completely align with the humans'. Allowing someone like her to come into being is as far as it goes."
Graeme glared at her, running over her words in his mind as he did.
"I give you my word," she said.
"Then why are you here?" he asked, a muscle feathering in his jaw.
Penelope's eyebrows pinched together as she looked down at her feet. "May I?" she asked, gesturing toward the room.
He took a step to the side in response, and she walked in to seat herself at a small white desk against the wall.
"Did you run all the way from Maine?" she asked, tilting her head in gesture toward the sheet he was holding.
"No. I parked near the bluffs," he replied. "I came in through the woods out back."
"Ah," she said in understanding.. "Would you like to change first? We have a lot to discuss."