Chapter 10: Close Encounters

As Waverly trailed behind Sawyer, she took in the splendour of areas of the mansion she had never seen before. He led her across the entry way into a large sitting room, donning a white sectional and coffee table that faced out a glass wall, looking out towards Trinity Mountains. It was the most beautiful view Waverly had ever seen. All along the opposite walls were large paintings of past generation Alpha's.

Waverly stopped in front of one, studying the portrait. It was of a man, who had the same unique eye colour as Sawyer, and who held his same sharp jawline.

"Who's this?"

Sawyer turned and met Waverly at the photo. "My Grandfather," he answered. "He built up the Crimson Shadow's, making us the most represented pack in the state."

Waverly's gaze fell over the painting, taking it in. "My Grandfather was the same. He brought our pack down from San Francisco after the Great Wolverian War. He was a great Alpha, but I didn't know any of this until he had already died."

There was silence as they both examined the frame. "He looks just like you," Waverly said, softly.

"People say that," Sawyer responded with a tiny smile. "I hope to have a legacy like his."

"Is that your last name?" she pointed to the name plaque at the base of the frame: Kane Einar.

Sawyer nodded. "It's Scandinavian. It means 'bold warrior'."

Waverly looked towards Sawyer, who's admiration was fully displayed while he studied his grandfather's stance. She then made her way to the frame beside it. "And this?"

Sawyer followed her voice and his eyes became focused as he approached the image. "My father."

She watched and saw a glimpse of hopelessness wash over him. She waited for him to continue, only he said nothing else. They stood in silence as his eyes examined the portrait. Then abruptly, he moved away and began ahead. "It's this way."

Waverly kept closely behind, realizing that she had hit a nerve of some sort. Yet, it always seemed that each time she got closer to the truth, she was pushed a step back.

They walked down a set of three stairs to a lowered room consisting of several ceiling high bookshelves and multiple small armchairs and loveseats. A fireplace stood as the focal point, warming the entire space.

Sawyer led her through a set of double doors into a third room, which had a large steel desk sitting in front of it. The desk was covered in office supplies and the wall was decorated in shelves consisting of current photos of Sawyer, Christopher and some other people she did not recognize.

"Wow," Waverly said, heading towards the grand window that stood behind the desk with a perfect view of the town. "This is…something else."

Sawyer walked up and stood beside her. "It reminds me of the importance of my position," he said, not removing his gaze from the view below.

Waverly turned her eyes towards him. He stood with one hand in his pocket and his reflection bounced off of the window pane as the evening sun set in.

He then took a step back and began moving around the papers on his desk. "You said at dinner that you didn't believe I was protecting my pack."

At this, Waverly brought her attention to Sawyer. "I never said that."

"But you believe it."

"I just believe in the old saying, 'you never know till you try'."

Sawyer let his fingers trail along each piece of paper before stopping on a specific one. "This one," he stated. "Is the original notice of The Mating."

"The Mating?"

"That's what it was originally called," Sawyer began. "When the curse happened, I tried to discover a mate within my pack. Then, I created The Mating, to find a match from a differing pack."

He picked up the sheet and handed it to Waverly. At the top of the document, much like the letter Lycan pack had received almost a week ago, sat the Crimson Shadow's sigil. Underneath, were the outlines of the Sacrifice, noting only a 3-year period.

"The Sacrifice was supposed to only last for three years?" she asked in disbelief. She looked to Sawyer, who nodded. "But the packs have had to present a candidate every 4 years for the past decade…"

"That was never my intention," Sawyer noted as he took the page out of her hand. "I tried to stop it from happening, but the packs wouldn't listen. They continued sending me potential mates."

Waverly looked at him, astonished. "Why would they do that?"

However, Waverly's curiosity was cut short when the door to the office opened.

"Sawyer, you have to help me."

Christopher entered the room with a stack of papers and a pen in hand. He set them on the desk in front of them and looked up as he saw Waverly standing beside Sawyer in her evening dress. A smirk crossed his face, emphasizing the dimple on his left cheek. "My, my, don't you look stunning. It's a nice change from the hoodies and sweats, I imagine."

Waverly smiled at Christopher and was about to reply when Sawyer interrupted.

"What's this?"

Christopher placed a finger on the paper, containing numerous triple digit numbers. "The upkeep of the land. I have it planned in a specific way that we can cater to almost everything, even if…" he looked up at Sawyer, who glared at him. "Anyways…I just can't seem to get the numbers right to help repair the roof on the Tillbury's restaurant down on the strip."

Sawyer stared at the pages in front of him as Christopher continued.

"We could take away from the –"

Sawyer raised a hand to stop him. "No, no, the Tillbury's shop has been around since my Grandfather. Here, let me see."

Sawyer took the pen and began writing on the papers; his eyes focused. Waverly observed as he explained the process to Christopher. He narrowed in on the numbers, scrunching his eyebrows. Although he seemed confused, he was calculating the figures as if it were second nature.

He set down the pen. "There."

Christopher looked over the documents and a grin crossed his face. "And this is why you're the Alpha," he said. "Truly, a god."

Sawyer laughed fully; his features emphasized by each breath as he placed a hand on Christopher's shoulder. "I wouldn't say—"

"Did you not see the way you handled that?" Christopher said, enthusiastically. Sawyer continued to chuckle; the most Waverly had ever seen.

"Look," Christopher started, once the tone had settled. "Some of the staff want to set up a meeting tonight, around 8 before they head out for the night."

Sawyer nodded. "What about the town visits?"

"All taken care of this afternoon."

At this, Sawyer smiled. "Thanks, man."

Christopher bowed his head. "Anything for a god." Sawyer shook his head and laughed under his breath. "Okay, I'll take these down to Ruby and get started. Thanks again, Sawyer." Christopher said. He shot a respectful nod and smirk Waverly's way before closing the door to the office behind him.

Sawyer's eyes loitered on the door frame for a few moments after Christopher left.

"Who's Ruby?" Waverly curiously asked. Sawyer looked at her, his eyes still sparkling from the previous conversation.

"Oh, our Accountant," he casually replied. "She takes care of the finance end for me."

Waverly grinned. "You could take care of that yourself by the way you handled that." She waved her hand at the desk where the papers Christopher brought were earlier.

"Math is something I can do," he replied. "Not enjoy."

Waverly snickered and when she looked back up, she saw Sawyer staring at her. His expression was intent.

"What if it doesn't work?" he asked, his voice lowered.

Waverly let out a breath. "I don't know—" she said. "But I think your pack is worth the shot."

Sawyer's gaze remained on her, almost studying her. Within this proximity and such a confined space, she could smell the musky scent of his cologne emitting from his unbuttoned collar. His necklaces dangled to the middle of his chest, highlighting the bits of muscle she could see underneath.

Sawyer's eyes trailed from hers to her cheeks and then finally, her lips. His body inched closer to her and with each step he took, the fine freckles that crossed the bridge of his nose became more prominent. Waverly's body quivered as she closed her eyes and felt the heat of his breath get warmer and warmer…

Then it was gone. Waverly opened her eyes to see Sawyer standing near the shelving unit, his fists clenched together. He was staring at the ground, his face contorted.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, calmly. Sawyer stood still and kept to himself. "Sawyer?"

"Leave."

"What?" Waverly said, that pit in her gut opening again. "I—"

"Leave," he repeated, his voice menacing and cold. Waverly looked at him, absorbed in shock. He's the one who brought her here, approved of her conditions and seconds ago, was, she thought, about to kiss her and now…

Waverly waited a moment. Sawyer kept in his place, his eyes raising to meet hers. His body was tense, but his gaze was weak. "Please," he said.

Waverly bit her lower lip and agreed. She picked up her feet and headed towards the door. When she looked back, Sawyer was in the chair at his desk, with his back to her. She sighed and left the office, with the sound of the shutting door resounding in her ears.