The Lone Wolf's Lycan Princess

Dinner

River POV

Erin was more broken than I initially sensed. Now that I knew a little more about her, I intended to look her up for any leads as to why she was so afraid. I had caught glimpses of it when she accidentally called. The Samantha girl had mentioned that her family was murdered. That one accidental call allowed me to quickly reach her. Luckily, my hotel was nearby, making it easy for me to get there. As I neared her work building, I immediately caught her scent. Max, wanted to shift and tear the men and the secretary to shreds, but we couldn't. We were in an area full of humans, and I knew Erin would flee if she got spooked.

"Do you think our mate has always been unable to speak?" Max questioned me.

"I'm not sure," I admitted honestly.

During the entire car ride to my place, Erin kept her gaze fixed on the window. She seemed slightly calmer than when I first met her, but her fear was still palpable. I was glad she had eaten something, even if it was just a small portion. However, the memory of her living conditions haunted me. She had a worn-out mattress with a small blanket and pillow, along with a plastic storage container serving as a dresser. She managed to fit all her belongings into a small duffel bag, indicating that she had no money. I assumed her position didn't pay well, and if her family was dead, she either had no inheritance or it had all been exhausted. Her thin state was likely a result of limited funds and her fear of being around people, which made her avoid going out unless absolutely necessary.

Once we arrived at my cabin, Erin followed me to the guest room. I pointed out the private bathroom and how it was well-spaced from my room.

She looked a little relieved, and then I gave her a small tour, not wanting to push her. As she pulled out her phone, I still noticed a slight tremble of her hand. "I've never been an assistant before, I'm really only good at cleaning," she texted me. I really just wanted her here, I did not need an assistant. I just needed my mate. Although now that she was with me, I realized it was now going to be a challenge to hold Max off from pushing forward and doing something stupid.

I mean, I was a werewolf, and Max, he wants to complete a bond with her, and that does not always make him act rationally. He wants to hold her, to be close with her so he can feel the physical part of a mate bond. But she is not ready for that, nor do I believe she will be anytime soon. For now, I needed to help her not be afraid. I needed her to see I was no threat to her.

I still needed to give her work, just so she felt more at ease. If I simply tell her she does not have to work, she will question why she is here. If I could, I would simply tell her it is because she is my mate. But I know well that will only scare her right now. "If you are good at cleaning, maybe I'll have you help with that. For today, I just want you to get settled in this home. It is your home for the next three months. No place is off-limits to you. I have food delivered once a week, so the refrigerator and pantry are always stocked. Help yourself to any of it. If you need to go into town for anything, I can take you. I make my own hours, and three months is plenty of time for me to finish up my book. I have only one request, and that is if someone knocks on the door, allow me to get it," I said to her. She nodded her head.

"Erin, may I ask you one question? You don't have to respond if it makes you uncomfortable, but have you always been unable to speak?" I asked her. She pulled out her phone and typed soon mine buzzed.

"No, I used to speak," she sent me.

"Is it that you can't now or don't want to?" I asked her, just wanting to know.

She typed again, "Can't." I looked at her; she did not make eye contact with me yet.

"Thank you for telling me. I'm just trying to get to know you better. How about you unpack and relax for a little?" I suggested to her as I let her go into the room, and I walked to my study to try and get a little work done.

"She can't. That means she was hurt," Max grumbled as my phone buzzed again; she had messaged me.

I glanced at my phone screen. The message appeared, causing my heart to sink. "Everyone at the publishing firm already knows, so it's not a secret," it read. With a mixture of anticipation and dread, I tapped on the attached news link. As the webpage loaded, the caption caught my attention: "Family brutally murdered, only one survivor." I read the details, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. Max, growled within. Erin's entire family, including her twin sister, were found dead, their bodies bearing multiple stab wounds. It was labeled as one of the worst crimes ever seen.

I delved deeper into the story, discovering that Erin and her twin sister were adopted at a young age. Some articles hinted that Erin was initially suspected as the culprit, as if she never truly fit into her new family. However, later on, someone else was charged with the crime, exonerating Erin. That night, she lost not only her voice but also her entire family, her sense of security. And to make matters worse, she was wrongly portrayed as a criminal for a significant period of time. No wonder she was so broken.

Max's voice echoed in my mind, suggesting that perhaps something had been done to Erin to silence her permanently. It was a possibility worth investigating. I felt a strong determination to help her, to find a way to restore her voice and bring justice to her shattered life. I sat at my computer, ready to dig deeper into this tragic story.

Just as I settled into my task, my phone buzzed again, breaking my concentration. Her message appeared, offering to start cleaning if I had the necessary supplies. Max growled, sensing her restlessness. I replied, assuring him that she was nervous. I provided her with the location of the closet by the entrance, where the cleaning supplies were stored. Additionally, I shared a link to the company I used for groceries, allowing her to add anything she needed to my cart.

I heard her leave her room, her footsteps echoing faintly down the hallway. It took immense self-control for me to remain in my office, as Max fought to break free. "She calms near us, you have seen it," he reminded me. I acknowledged his observation, knowing that even though her wolf was dormant, we could sense her shifter nature. However, it was evident that her wolf was weakened at the moment, indicating that she likely couldn't sense us.

Max grumbled in my mind, suggesting that marking her might awaken her wolf. I countered, explaining that marking her now would only make her run. It was clear that she had no idea about her true nature.

I closed my laptop. It was clear that I wasn't getting anything done right now. As I walked to the window and looked outside, the soft rays of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow.

I wasn't known for being gentle or patient, but I had to try. I waited for a few hours in my study, finally managing to accomplish a small amount of work. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I left the room and ventured into the rest of the house.

She had promised to clean, and she had certainly delivered. Every corner of the house was spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. Even the refrigerator was organized and gleaming. She had worked fast and efficiently. As I approached her bedroom door, her scent enveloped me.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled out my phone to check the grocery list. Surprisingly, she hadn't added anything. I messaged her, inquiring if she was hungry. After a few minutes, my phone buzzed with her response: "I'm okay, thanks for asking." Max growled in disagreement. He insisted that she must be hungry, having only eaten a muffin. He urged me to make her eat.

Sighing, I acknowledged his point. I decided to approach the situation differently. I messaged her, inviting her to join me for dinner at six. I offered to cook and asked if there was anything she didn't like. Her response surprised me: "Red meat." Max couldn't help but comment on this, muttering about it being a first.

Taking note of her preference, I told her she was welcome to come out before six, but if not, I would see her then. With that settled, I walked into the kitchen and surveyed what ingredients I had. I selected a few chicken breasts and began prepping everything.

I meticulously prepared spinach stuffed chicken, carefully stuffing each piece and arranging them in a baking dish. As the aroma of the seasoned chicken filled the kitchen, I turned my attention to the side dishes, selecting vibrant red potatoes and crisp carrots. The sound of the knife slicing through the vegetables echoed in the room as I expertly chopped them.

Feeling satisfied with my culinary efforts, I walked over to my liquor cabinet and opened it, revealing an array of bottles. Among them, I chose a decent bottle of wine - a rare indulgence for me. I had acquired it from someone who had tried to sign my book, and now it was the perfect occasion to enjoy it.

Just as I was about to place the dish in the oven, she walked into the room. Her nervous stance was evident, but she was making an effort to show her appreciation. "You did an amazing job cleaning. Thank you for your hard work," I said to her. For the first time, our eyes met briefly, and in that moment, I couldn't help but notice her breathtaking beauty. Though she quickly averted her gaze, that fleeting second gave me hope that she was starting to warm up to me.

Taking a different approach this time, I decided not to ask her directly. Instead, I poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. I had no intention of forcing anything on her, but I also didn't want her to decline out of fear. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating the unfamiliar beverage. "Have you had wine before?" I asked. With a shake of her head, she admitted she hadn't. "If it's your first time, just sip on it. I'm not forcing you to drink; I just want you to enjoy," I reassured her. She took a tentative sip and then set the glass down.

Suddenly, I felt a familiar sensation, the same one I had sensed when she was panicking earlier. Maybe I had pushed her too far. She glanced toward her room, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "She's having a panic attack," Max warned me. Mentally, I urged her to take deep breaths, hoping to calm her down. "You're safe," I accidentally blurted out loud, instead of mentally saying it. Startled, she stumbled back.

"Well done, now she knows you're the voice in her head," Max grumbled in my mind.

She made a move to leave, and without thinking, I reached out and gently grabbed her hand. Unfortunately, it only seemed to worsen the situation. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I'll let go of your hand, but please stay," I pleaded. Thankfully, she nodded, choosing to stay.