The apartment

Emma’s POV
**‘WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MATE?’** echoes through the building. It reaches my ears, making me feel suddenly a lot happier. I am not really sure what happened, I was sure that Peter told the housekeeper lady, Mrs Er-something, to put me in his rooms, but obviously she thought he meant a guest room.

Okay, I acknowledge to myself, I think the bitch (and I don’t mean that is a positive female werewolf kind of way) deliberately misunderstood him, and I am trying to be charitable, but I don’t think she likes me much.

I quickly scoot around the room, repacking my bags, as I have a feeling that someone is going to be coming through that door to escort me to Peter any second. I am not wrong either, I am just putting my toothbrush back in my wash bag as I hear the door open.

Well, it is not Mrs Er, it is a younger woman, looking red in the face, and ready to cry.

‘Excuse me Luna,’ she calls from the bedroom. ‘Are you here?’

I walk out of the bathroom zipping up my wash bag and walking over to an unzipped holdall.

‘Just a moment please, I need to finish repacking. And please call me Emma.’ I respond to her.

She bows towards me. ‘Yes, Lu... Emma,’ she says nervously. ‘Can I assist at all in the packing?’

‘Nah I think I am done. So what is your name?’ I ask, zipping up the last one and going to lift my luggage.

She gasps in horror and grabs my bags away from me.

‘The Alpha will kill me if I let you carry your own bags,’ she explains, then blushes uncomfortably as she continues. ‘I am Sarah… Sarah Ereves… but please just call me Sarah… Martha Ereves, the head of house, is my mother.’

Oh shit, I think. Another enemy? But this woman doesn’t seem to have the same hatred towards me that I felt from her mother.

‘So, Sarah, cards on the table,’ I state. ‘What is your mom’s problem with me? And do you have a problem with me as well?’

Another horrified look. ‘No… n-no Luna, I don’t have a problem with you. Please don’t be angry with my mother, I am sure she just needs to get used to you.’

I think Sarah might well be underestimating her mum’s strength of feeling, Martha is one of about a third of the links I feel with a dark sickly hue, almost the colour of a bruise, it is like a sickness of the soul. I hope I am wrong, and I hope I can work out what it is and how to fix it. To be honest I am feeling quite inadequate.

Sarah leads me up to the fourth floor, and then across to the opposite wing. She doesn’t rush me the way her mother did, which I am very grateful for; because (a) it hurts to run about like that; and (b) I need to decide what I am going to say to a pissed off werewolf who will sense if I am lying to him.

Talking of pissed off werewolves we round a corner entering a long corridor, and halfway down I can see Peter pacing the corridor. His head shoots up and he looks directly at me, then in three long strides he has passed Sarah, giving her a little growl, and swept me up into his arms. His nose nuzzles into my neck and I can feel the tension leave him.

He looks into my eyes, and I feel myself drowning in the blue depths of his eyes.

‘Hi,’ I say. One word summing up so much, but also so inadequate.

His lips crash into mine, possessive and demanding, bruising, but also gentle. I respond to him, moving my lips in time with his. My lips part, allowing his tongue to access my mouth, to dance erotically with my tongue.

My back crashes into the wall of the corridor. One of his arms under my skirt, against my butt, warm flesh against my thighs, holding me up against him, my legs wrapped around him. My arms are round his neck, tangling my hands in his hair, his free hand is stroking my face and neck.

My pulse is racing, I can feel fire and dampness in my knickers; my nipples are painfully hard, desperate for his touch. Oh, my goddess, it has been so long. My body feels so good pressed against this man, he is the air I breathe, the water I drink, sustenance for my body and soul.

I grind myself against him, a small moan escaping into his mouth. One hand moves from his head and starts undoing the buttons of his shirt, I am desperate to feel his skin against mine.

A small noise reminds us that we are not alone, and reluctantly we end the kiss.

‘Hi, to you too,’ he says huskily, still holding me, still focused on me. Our eyes communicate our desire for each other.

‘Err… I left the Luna’s bags in your rooms, Alpha,’ Sarah squeaks, clearly uncomfortable. ‘If you will excuse me?’

‘Thank you, Sarah,’ I say.

‘Scram,’ Peter says, I can see the amusement and barely restrained laughter in his eyes, however Sarah runs out of there, like she is scared he will pounce on her. Well, I suppose he did growl at her.

As he carries me to the door, he was waiting outside of I say, ‘That was mean, the poor woman probably drew a short straw to have to guide me to you, I am sure it was just an oversight that I was put in the wrong room.’

Peter growls slightly, his eyes clouding with pain, ‘I can’t lose you again Em, you complete me, my gift from the Goddess.’ Then he kicks the door to his room open, and my jaw drops.

It is not a room like the one I had been in before. This is an apartment over two floors, and while it has an empty unloved air, I can feel that this is a home.

I squeal excitedly and wiggle out of Peter’s arms.

‘Oh my god,’ I exclaim. ‘This is amazing… can… can I have a look round.’

He smiles with genuine pleasure at my excitement, then says reluctantly. ‘Ten minutes, then I want you back in my arms to finish what you started in the hall.’

With a giggle and a bow, like I have seen the other wolves use, I reply, ‘Yes, Alpha.’ Then I am off and running.

The room we entered is a huge living room with sofas and chairs, a low coffee table and some occasional tables scattered about, with a rug over wooden floors, the colour scheme is sunshine yellow. Staircases spiral up to a balcony area upstairs, and massive glass doors lead to an outside veranda. I run to the left, there are two arched doorways. The first one takes me into a modern and well-equipped kitchen, which then links into the other room on that side, an old-fashioned sit down dining room. I circle back into the main room, and throw a glance at my handsome fella, before scurrying straight across into a room which doesn’t currently have an obvious use, but shelving on one wall, scuff marks and pen marks said this was once a playroom, with a large window, but no door to the outside.

Three doors lead out of the room. One leads to a large walk-in cupboard, another into a hallway with a small bathroom and the third leads to a large den… with a TV set… What the actual… they have TV! A door at the back of that room leads to a library which has another door out onto the corridor with the bathroom and a door back into the living room.

One final door beckons on this floor, leading to another large cupboard. I look at Peter…

‘Tick, tock,’ he says with a predatory smile. ‘Five minutes left.’

I know I am not going to have the chance to do a proper explore upstairs, but I should be able to check out the bedrooms.
Upstairs is actually bigger with rooms over what would be the outside corridor leading off the open balustraded hall. I run clockwise, pushing open doors and counting bedrooms; one, two, a bathroom, a cupboard, three, a nursery…

My eyes cloud a moment as I think of the nursery, we have never discussed children, but I am getting old and there are so many risks, but if I have another child, I would like him or her to be Peter’s. Still no point in worrying ahead of time.

… four and a massive master bedroom. So five bedrooms, a nursery, and a bathroom. I am betting some of the bedrooms have en-suites too.

I am running out of time as I finish my circuit, tearing back down the stairs and launching myself back into his arms.

‘This house is amazing,’ I say to him, somewhat breathlessly. ‘I love it.’

‘Now where were we?’ he responds, his lips seeking mine. I am drawn to him like a magnet, and resume kissing him passionately…