Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 37 **

Patricia

I'm sitting on the couch, wrapped in a colorful and fuzzy blanket, while Elijah is eyeing me. It seems Dior has gotten the entire pack to accept him, even if the handsome man is a vampire.

Elijah stares deeply into my eyes, trying to read my soul. "Do you want me to make you forget, lady Patricia? With compulsion, the scene of your father hanging inside your living room could disappear."

I shake my head, and when I realize it's not enough to convince the vampire, I speak up.

"I don't want to forget about what I've seen," I'm hoping my eyes convey the burning desire for revenge. I've been underestimated my entire life, but tonight a fire has been lit up inside of me. An eye-for-an-eye, isn't that what it's called? I wish to make my enemy bleed. "I want to find whoever did this and kill them myself. By my own hands."

Elijah gawks at me before exchanging a glance with Dior, who seems very amused by my answer. He is standing a bit further away with a cup of coffee in his hand. A silent chuckle escapes him before he clears his throat to speak like an authority.

"My mate is not to be underestimated, Elijah. She might be a tiny, little rogue right now, but one day, she may step up to become your luna—respect her wishes, or you might regret it."

Elijah's lips turn into a thin stretch. "Very well." His piercingly red eyes then fall on me. "If you change your mind about this, lady Patricia, then don't hesitate to call me."

I'm given a card with his number on it before his mate, Wesley rushes into the living room with a tray of cookies. He is wearing an apron, and his hair is clinging to his forehead. Wesley seems into hair colors, and today his curly hair is flaming orange.

"I think I burnt most cookies!" The short guy is talking to me if I'm to judge by the gentle smile aimed my way. "Perhaps some are good? I'm not sure if you work the same way I do, but when I'm sad, I find comfort in eating chocolate chip cookies!"

Elijah rolls his eyes and covers his face with his gloved hand. He is less disordered than his mate and always seems to wear a suit. Even his hair is styled to perfection, which is weird considering it's in the middle of the freaking night.

"You're not an exemplary role model, Wesley," Elijah complains and grumbles. "Lady Patricia went through something traumatic and life-changing, and you're bringing her cookies?"

Wesley gasps and puts down the tray on the coffee table. "You're right." His eyes meet mine, and his lips quirk up higher. "I brought some alcohol with me—it's in the hallway! I will be right back, sweetheart! We will get extremely drunk before the night is over!"

"That's now what I meant-..." Elijah growls when he realizes his mate is already gone with the wind.

Despite everything, I giggle. "I like Wesley. He is making me laugh when everything is dark and terrible."

Elijah hands me a ghost of a smile—I think it's the first time I've seen him show human emotions. His face cracks like a wall that is finally giving up, and the guarded expression is replaced with a certain gentleness that can only be described as the face of someone in love.

"He is a nice person," Elijah says. "But don't take my word for it—Wesley is my mate, and my opinion might be biased. I'm blinded by love and would probably still love him even if he committed murder."

My lips curl into a dreaming smile. "That's very sweet."

As I say those words, Dior pops up out of nowhere. He probably saw me talking with Elijah as his chance to approach me, and now he is standing right beside the couch. I barely have time to react before the large man tosses his ass next to mine, causing me to slide into his side by the sheer difference in weight between us.

My head awkwardly lands on his shoulder, but Dior doesn't even look at me. He picks up a cookie, stuffing it into his mouth to then pick up another. His entire expression conveys happiness, and when he catches me staring at him, he holds out a cookie.

"You want one?" He asks, smiling down at my shocked face. "Wesley is excellent at baking and cooking—these are delicious. Of course, it's nothing like yours, but I think you should try one!"

I absorb the blue in his eyes and feel warmer. "No, I'm good..."

Dior nods and then continues eating. I didn't know he was such a sugar tooth. Even Elijah seems a bit bewildered by the scene, but his gaze landing on mine shows he is finding more entertainment by watching my appalled face.

"Well then, should we discuss what has happened?" Elijah asks.

Elijah takes a seat in an armchair, then glances over his shoulder to study Alice, who hasn't said a word. Alice doesn't have many fond memories of vampires. I assume she is nervous about having so many people inside our home, and I suspect she is afraid of Elijah.

"You may join us, witch," Elijah nods at another armchair. "I won't bite."

Alice turns incredibly red. "Y-You can read minds?"

Elijah attempts a smile but ends up looking more mad than happy. Still, he is at least trying. "I strive to refrain from doing it, and I apologize for my actions. But you have been staring at me like I might jump at you at any given second, so I felt the need to take a look inside your mind. And I can assure you that I'm not anything like the other vampires you've met thus far—I'm not a savage."

Alice smiles. "Okay, then I would like to be a part of the conversation," she carefully walks over to the Tv area to slump down in another armchair. Her eyes then move quickly from one face to another. She stops at Dior. "So, are Wesley and Elijah your most trusted men? What happened to Marcus? And what about those goons who harassed us at your birthday party?"

Dior freezes, and suddenly his expression turns cold. Even Elijah loses his smile and begins eyeing his alpha with anxiety, which I didn't expect. I get the sense something significant has happened that I'm not informed about, or maybe I'm overthinking.

"Marcus came to my door threatening to kill my mate," Dior speaks in a calm voice and even picks up a cookie. He silently studies it between his digits before taking a bite. "So I took care of him."

Alice narrows her eyes. "How did you do that?"

Dior meets her eyes, entirely serious. "I teleported him to shark-infested waters so I wouldn't have to take care of his bloodied body after I was done beating him to a pulp. This time, however, I refrained from hitting him, but make no mistake, anyone threatening to hurt my mate in the future will die by my hands."

His eyes are blazing with the rage hiding inside. I shudder at the not-expected face he is making. Usually, Dior glows with an inner light so brilliant that it's sometimes hard to face him. But now that his gentleness is gone, I want it back.

I've been through a lot today and lean my cheek against his boulder-like shoulder with my tired gaze meeting his blue. I'm momentarily stunned by his long eyelashes and the severe judgment on his face, but I understand it's not aimed at me. Dior is still worked up over Marcus, and I sink into him further, hoping he will calm down.

Hesitant, like he is afraid I will escape from him, he hooks an arm around me, and by some silent agreement, I let him pull me into him. His thumb strokes my skin, and I hold still, afraid that the slightest movement will end the spell, and we will go back into arguing with each other.

"You didn't have to kill Marcus," I mumble. "We could have figured out a way to handle him."

Dior touches me in a way that makes me wonder if he can even stop himself. He is tender, so much unlike himself that I wonder what happened to the boy. The nasty guy I knew seems to have been replaced with a gorgeous man.

"No, I couldn't take any chances with him, Patricia."

I search his eyes for a hint of corruption, but I only find warmth and gentleness. Dior indeed finished off Marcus because, in his head, it was the only way to protect me.

"Okay," I speak in a soft tone. "Well, thank you."

The others have grown quiet, and when I find Alice brushing a silent tear from beneath her eye, I glare at her. Elijah clears his throat at the exact moment and begins discussing something with Dior. I'm too tired to keep up with their conversation.

I doze off for a minute, only to be woken up by Dior poking me in the ribs. My first instinct is to snarl, but then I realize everyone is looking at me expectantly as if wanting an answer. I come to an understanding they must all have been watching me snore and then wake up, startled by Dior touching me. Shit!

"We asked you a question, princess." Dior tries to hide a grin. The bastard can probably read my mind. He also seems very much amused by my initial reaction to hiss at him.

I stifle a yawn, trying to blush at the grin aimed at me. Hot men and their pearly teeth are so hard to stomach. "And what was the question?"

Elijah speaks up. "Who do you think murdered your parents? Do you have any clue?"

Everyone is awaiting my answer. Even Wesley has taken a seat on his lover's knees, and Alice is still inside the living room as well.

I take a deep breath, finding courage in the presence of my friends and whatever Dior is to me.

"June is our enemy, but I don't think this was her," my eyes grow thoughtful. "A murder is too obvious and non-discrete for her style, and she couldn't have possibly entered Winterbite territory without getting seen—there are too many pack members on guard."

"Which means?" Alice asks.

My eyes travel from one face to another before I speak. "I think the killer is part of the Winterbite pack."