“Finally…” Emma muttered, exhaling heavily as Derek pulled up in front of her house. At last, she could eat—and rest. Her stomach had been rumbling steadily ever since the drive started.

  “We’re home,” he said cheerfully, pressing a button on the dashboard to unlock the doors.

  Emma stretched slightly, wincing. Sleep first, then food, she decided.

  Glancing sideways, she saw Derek already out of the car, her backpack slung over his shoulder. He approached her side of the vehicle, moving with that confident, deliberate stride that always made her chest flutter.

  He stopped at her door, winked, and opened it.

  “Won’t you be getting down, my little witch?” he asked, smiling, his hand outstretched.

  Emma’s breath hitched at his smile. It was the most beautiful she’d ever seen, capable of igniting tingles that always seemed to spread through her body. Steeling herself, she placed her hand in his, letting him lift her from the car.

  Derek shut the door with his left hand, gripping hers tightly as they walked slowly toward the front door. The rumbling from her stomach confirmed what he’d suspected—she was more tired and hungry than she’d let on. He wondered what she might have to eat at home.

  “Thanks a lot, Derek, for dropping me off,” she said, trying to smile despite her exhaustion. “I owe you one.”

  “Don’t mention it. It’s nothing,” he replied, amused. Nothing worth thanking for—just doing my duty to my mate.

  “Just open the door already,” he added.

  Emma blinked, puzzled. She’d thought he’d just drop her off.

  “Are you coming in?” she asked, hope threading her voice. She wanted him to stay a while, perhaps until she could sleep.

  Though the feeling was foreign, she had decided to embrace it; just as she had embraced this whirlwind romance.

  “Yeah,” he said, lips quirking in a way that told her it would have been absurd not to. She felt her heart lift.

  “Okay, let’s go in then,” she said, unlocking the door.

  Derek stepped inside, taking in the sitting room as Emma opened the door wider. The sunlight poured through the royal blue embroidered curtains, highlighting the whitewashed walls and the intricate paintings adorning them. The space was warm, inviting—a reflection of the home she had made.

  He noticed delicate designs and writings etched into the walls. What are those? he wondered, moving unconsciously toward them.

  “Derek…” Emma’s voice interrupted his fascination. She sounded curious. He turned back to her, eyes meeting hers.

  “Make yourself at home. I’m going to sleep,” she said.

  Derek cocked a brow, yet understanding her exhaustion. If she had had energy, she’d have questioned him nonstop.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked, the rumble of her stomach giving him pause.

  “I’ll eat after I sleep,” she replied, making slow steps toward the bedroom entrance.

  “No. You’re eating now. Sleep later,” he insisted, resolute. My mate shouldn’t be hungry while I’m around.

  “But I don’t…” Emma started, then hesitated. She hadn’t planned to reveal that she couldn’t cook. Oatmeal and quick trips to the fill-up eatery had been her fallback plan.

  “You don’t know how to cook?”

  How did he know what I was thinking?

  “Yes,” she admitted, closing her eyes briefly, bracing herself for ridicule. But none came.

  Opening her eyes, she found him staring at her—not with mockery, but with admiration. She felt a flutter of disbelief.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “Oh… my little witch can’t cook. That’s cute.”

  A small scoff escaped. “Are you taunting me?” She lifted her chin in challenge, ignoring the warmth in his gaze.

  “No, not at all,” he replied, taking deliberate steps closer. “I’m just glad I get to be my little witch’s chef.” His smile was sincere.

  Emma’s heart skipped, thoroughly mesmerized. This guy will be the death of me.

  He lifted a hand to caress her cheek, gentle and loving, letting out a quiet sigh. She couldn’t believe how quickly he had claimed her heart, despite everything she thought she knew about him.

  “Let me be your chef,” he said, eyes filled with sheer love.

  “Okay,” she whispered, dropping her gaze. His stare was hypnotic, powerful.

  “Show me your kitchen, girlfriend,” he said, taking her right hand in his and leading her forward.

  —

  “Where did you learn how to cook?” Emma asked Derek, sighing in satisfaction as she finished the last of the spaghetti on her plate.

  She had watched in awe as he trailed around the kitchen, putting things in order as if he was born to it. He had coached her while cooking, and now, savoring the last bites, she decided she preferred his cooking to Clem’s—maybe because he was her boyfriend. She didn’t care.

  “From my mother,” Derek replied, smiling as he watched his mate gobble up the food he had prepared just minutes ago. She hadn’t even waited for it to cool before asking for a serving.

  He felt over the moon that she enjoyed his cooking, suppressing the urge to beat his chest as a rush of emotions enveloped him.

  “She must be a good cook then,” Emma said, wishing she had more spaghetti. It was, without a doubt, the best she had ever eaten.

  “Yes, she is,” Derek agreed, standing up to gather their plates from the table.

  “Just leave them by the sink. I’ll do the dishes,” Emma said, watching him collect the plates.

  She knew he wanted to wash them, and though she appreciated his pampering, she thought it selfish to let him do it all. She would wash the dishes later, perhaps after a nap.

  “No,” Derek said firmly. “Let’s do it together.” He winked at her when he said “together,” and she scoffed.

  Her boyfriend was really a flirt, Emma thought, glancing at him. He was still beckoning her with his eyes, daring her to agree.

  “Okay, okay,” she finally surrendered, getting up from the table and walking over to him.

  Derek sauntered into the kitchen with the plates, grinning from ear to ear. Mischief sparkled in his eyes. He could feel his wolf’s contentment.

  If only she had a wolf… he thought, glancing at his little witch as he dropped the plates into the sink.

  “Stop mentioning that. Quit spoiling my mood,” his wolf muttered. “She wouldn’t turn into a wolf. So quit wishing, or do you want to quit her?”

  “Quit her? Never.” Derek’s reply was instant.

  “Then stop worrying about her frail nature,” Maru concluded.

  Derek couldn’t argue. His wolf was right—he needed to enjoy the moment with his mate, not think about consequences.

  “What are you standing there for, spaced out again?” Emma’s voice pulled him back. She sounded vibrant again after eating two plates of spaghetti.

  “Just thinking…”

  “About…?”

  “About you,” he replied, blowing her a kiss. He chuckled as he watched a deep blush bloom across her cheeks; she hadn’t expected it.

  “You’re really a flirt,” she said, trying to hide a smile. “Let’s wash already,” she added, meeting him at the counter.

  Derek grinned mischievously, pouring detergent into the half-filled sink.

  “I’ll wash, you rinse,” he said, nodding to the plates.

  Emma agreed, eager to finish and get some sleep.

  As he picked up a plate and lathered it, he flicked it sharply, splashing soapy water onto Emma.

  “Bloody hell!!” she screamed, stepping back. Foam covered her nose, ears, mouth, and even her clothes.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she bemoaned, wiping her face. She didn’t want to be wet—sleep would be impossible.

  Derek laughed outright, and that only pissed her off more.

  How can he be laughing instead of apologizing? she thought. He must have done it on purpose.

  With a bowl, she scooped up some soapy water from the sink and hurled it at him.

  “Waaaaah!!”

  Derek froze for a second as the water and foam ran from his forehead to his lips. This wasn’t what he had expected—he hadn’t anticipated the full splash.

  Our mate seems to be the hard player, his wolf commented. Derek couldn’t agree more.

  “How do you feel?” Emma mocked, a victorious glint in her eyes. Derek wiped his face with his hands and advanced toward her, grinning.

  Emma’s smirk faded as he approached. What’s he going to do now?

  “You started it,” she said, buying time, glancing at the kitchen door.

  “I didn’t pour it on you.” Derek strolled closer, his mind already buzzing with playful plans.

  Suddenly, Clem’s voice blared through his mind path:

  “Derek!! Get back to the pack now! There’s trouble.”