Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Vivienne had spent twenty years being miserable and I had spent years trying to build a life that looked right on paper while ignoring the fact that something was missing.
Maybe neither of us deserved that anymore—maybe we deserved this—at least for a little while.
Vivienne caught me staring and smiled.
"What? What is it?"
I smiled back.
"Nothing."
"You're doing it again,” she said.
"Doing what?" I raised an eyebrow at her.
She waved her fork at me in a vague motion.
"You know—looking at me like that."
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms.
"Can't help it, baby. You’re beautiful."
“Kor…” Her cheeks turned pink, and her eyes were glowing as she ducked her head in pleased embarrassment.
The sight made something warm settle in my chest, and I decided something then and there. Whatever was happening between us—whatever impossible force kept pulling us together—I was done fighting it, at least for today.
Today I was going to enjoy breakfast with the most beautiful woman I'd ever met.
Tomorrow could worry about itself.
TWENTY-EIGHT
VIVIENNE
I hadn't felt this happy in years—not since I was a little girl on my birthday when my parents were still alive.
The feeling stayed with me as I cleared the breakfast dishes and listened to Kor humming under his breath while he loaded the dishwasher. Everything felt brighter somehow. The sunlight streaming through the windows seemed warmer. Even Wolverton Manor felt different—as though it had finally awakened from a long sleep.
Maybe I had awakened too.
I went upstairs to get dressed for our trip into town to get Kor’s new clothes and opened my closet doors. Immediately my good mood faltered.
Black. Everything was black or dark gray or brown or beige. Boring, ugly colors that were hardly colors at all.
For twenty years I had dressed the way Carter expected me to dress. I always looked respectable…conservative…proper. Every outfit I owned had been chosen to please him or avoid his criticism.
Looking at the dark row of garments now, I felt tired. Not physically tired, though—soul tired. I didn't want to wear any of the ugly, elderly librarian clothes in my closet. I was tired of dressing like a nun.
I was still standing there staring at the closet when Kor appeared in the doorway.
"Everything okay?" he asked, sounding concerned.
I glanced over my shoulder.
"I don't have anything to wear."
His eyebrows rose.
"Your closet looks full to me.”
“Full of clothes that look like they belong to a retired nun or an elderly librarian,” I grumbled. “Those are the only kinds of clothes Carter ever let me wear,” I added.
Kor came into the room and looked into the closet. Then he made a face.
"Damn."
I laughed.
"What?"
"Baby, these clothes look depressed."
"They do not,” I protested, even though I had basically been complaining about the same thing just a moment ago.
"They absolutely do,” he said.
"They're practical,” I pointed out.
"They're funereal."
I rolled my eyes.
"Well, what do you expect me to wear?"
One corner of his mouth lifted.
"What about one of your new dresses? Those all look gorgeous on you."
I hesitated, nibbling my lower lip. The dresses I’d bought were hanging in a separate section of the closet. I had to admit, just looking at them made me smile. They were colorful and feminine and nothing like the clothing I'd worn for most of my adult life. But did I dare to wear any of them to town?
"I don't know," I said slowly.
"Why not?"
"You know why.” I sighed. “What will people say?”
Kor folded his arms across his broad chest.
"The people in town, you mean?”
I nodded.
"The people in town. You saw the way they looked at me yesterday, right? They don’t like me. They all blame me for not being able to give Carter an heir.”
Kor frowned.
"Who cares what they think?"
I blinked.
"What?"
"Who cares?" he repeated. "They're not the ones wearing the dress."
"They'll talk,” I protested.
He shrugged.
"They already talk. What does it matter if they talk a little more? Who cares?"
I opened my mouth and then closed it again. Actually, he had a point. Why should I care about the mean things I heard them whisper—the snide remarks behind my back about my barrenness. Carter was gone now, and the Alpha Challenge would determine their next Pack Master. I was no longer part of the equation, except as a figurehead—a living monument to their fallen leader.
Kor stepped closer and tipped my chin up with one finger. He looked into my eyes.
"Vivienne, you're a free woman now,” he murmured. “He’s gone—he can’t hurt you now. You’re free.”
I nibbled my lower lip again.
"I don't know if I am," I admitted softly.
"You are." His voice was firm. "And if anybody in Blackridge doesn't like it, that's their problem."
I looked up at him and felt courage stirring inside me—just a little but maybe it was enough.
After Kor left me to get dressed, I stood in front of the closet for another minute. Then I reached past the black dresses and pulled out a white sundress I'd ordered online.