Chapter 9

                                    

                                          


                          
Charlie's POV
                          
Waking up from my heat was an event on its own. Presley was asleep, his arm covering his eyes, trying to escape the sunlight that peaked through my windows. He was perfect. Despite being in my heat-filled stupor, I remembered him being gentle with me. He was patient with me even while he was in his rut. 
                          
I reached up, touching the mark he placed on the crook of my neck; tears welled in my eyes, not from sadness, far from it, I was so happy I couldn't contain my emotions. Presley marked me, he really marked me. 
                          
From what my mama told me, there was a possibility he wouldn't mark me our first time. I was prepared to be disappointed, but he didn't do that. 
                          
I was his, and he was mine.
                          
"You know, you don't have to stare at me, angel." My mate spoke, taking his arm off of his face, revealing that he was awake. I blushed red, tucking my head into his chest. He chuckled, gingerly rubbing my arm. I didn't know what he was saying, but the teasing tone in his voice was very apparent. 
                          
I looked up at my mate, a smile on his lips, green eyes boring into mine. His once clean-shaven face now had stubble, his black hair was greasy from days of not showering- like it was anywhere on either of our plans anyway. There were times when Presley would leave and come back and clean me as much as he could without standing under running water. It was weird, I hadn't even known him for a week, and he was taking care of me as if I were his lover for many years. 
                          
"Così bello." (So beautiful.) Presley muttered before pressing his lips onto my forehead. 
                          
"Grazie." (Thank you.) I blushed, trying to burrow myself further into his embrace. 
                          
We enjoyed the last bit of time alone that we could have together, in silence. Presley just held onto me, running his hands on my bare skin as if he were trying to memorize every nook and cranny of my body, now that we were no longer in the stupor of our wolves. I enjoyed the electric feeling of his fingertips touching me. 
                          
Someone knocking on my door brought us back to reality. I grumbled, upset that someone was trying to steal the last bit of time I would have with my mate alone till we went to bed tonight. But, of course, that was if everything went alright and my papa didn't try something stupid, because he was good at that as of late. Presley growled lowly at the door, probably thinking the same thing I was. 
                          
"Uncle Charlie." Emeilio's small voice called from the other side of the door. 
                          
I sighed, pulling Presley's arm off of me, begrudgingly getting out of the bed for the first time in days. My legs shook, feeling like jelly from not being used or being used too much the past few days was the question that I had no answer for at the moment.  I then realized how much of a mess my room was; things in their place were now askew around the room. I chuckled, not even realizing how much of a blur the past few days were. 
                          
Another knock from my adorable but slightly annoying nephew sounded, and he called for me again. "One minute," I called back to him, trying to scramble around my room to find a comfortable pair of shorts and a loose-fitting shirt. I glanced back, making sure Presley looked decent before I opened the door for my nephew. He was covered from the waist down with an amused look on his face. 
                          
I opened the door. My nephew stood with his little arms crossed, his brows furrowed, and his lips jutted out in a pout. 
                          
"May I help you?" I placed my hand on my hip. 
                          
"Daddy said to come and get you because he couldn't stand the smell of the yucky alpha man." He pinched his nose, pointing behind me to Presley. "You smell like him now, gross. You smelled so much better last time I saw you." He complained. "Like lemons."