Chapter 12

JACKLA

I sat at the dining table, my skin still humming from how he had pressed himself against my bare back upstairs…forcing myself to chew on a piece of steak that felt like leather in my mouth. 

Around it, the spread was impressive…heaps of eggs, toasted bread, and bowls of fruit…but it all looked stale and grey to me. I had no appetite for anything this house provided.

I pushed a piece around with my fork, stealing glances at Morano and Jake as they talked, my chest tight with a growing heat. We had been sitting here for over twenty minutes, and he still hadn't said the word I was waiting for. 

I had taken my time to help him, yet he sat there treating me like an object he had bought and forgotten in a corner. Why do I even bother? The thought was a bitter sting. Why was I so desperate to hear a "thank you" from a man who saw me as a breeder?

I listened to them discuss the business strategy I had given him the other day. They laughed about how the plan was moving perfectly, but neither of them looked my way. Not once did he acknowledge that my brain was the only reason they had progressed now. 

I wanted to say something, but like he said, don’t speak unless spoken to, so I kept shut. If he couldn't thank me for his life, I was done helping him. I didn't care if his whole empire crashed into the dirt.

This was supposed to be a honeymoon, yet Jake was right there, filling the space with talk of shipments, power, and pack issues. "Not like I wanted it to just be us in this cabin. He’s so pathetic," I whispered, rolling my eyes at the cold food on my plate.

The room went silent. The air didn't just shift… it curdled. I looked up to find both of them staring at me. Morano folded his massive arms, his jade eyes pinning me to my seat with a predatory weight. "Did you say something?" 

His voice was a low, dark growl that made my skin prickle with a traitorous heat.

"No," I replied sharply.

I looked down immediately, staring at my plate as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. 

"We’re done for the day," Morano said. His voice was a flat command that sent Jake scurrying out of the dining room. I watched him chew his steak. There was a primal, rhythmic strength to his jaw that I couldn't look away from. 

It was enticing in a way that made my stomach flutter with a dark, unwanted heat. He shifted in his seat, his jade eyes snapping up to catch mine. He had caught me staring. I subconsciously straightened my back, my heart fluttering with the hope that he was finally going to say thanks.

Instead, a dark chuckle vibrated in his throat.

"I know I’m a gorgeous man," he said, leaning back with a smug, predatory ease. "But don’t you think I’d get pregnant if you kept staring at me like that?"

"Here we go again," I snapped, my face burning. "Praising yourself like I actually care."

"Oh, you do." His gaze dropped to my lips, dragging over them like a physical touch. "Had a change of mind about our talk earlier? Want to know how it feels to be fucked and pleasured properly? It would be nice, being your first."

The air died in my throat. My pulse spiked, a frantic drumming that I knew he could hear. How did he know? I guessed he didn’t know about Jayla’s affair with my stepdad. He thought he was looking at her, but he was looking at me…the untouched shadow.

I forced my expression to stay cold, knowing that as a werewolf, he could hear the frantic rhythm of my heart. "Bold of you to think you’d be my first," I lied, my voice sharp enough to draw blood.

"I know a virgin when I see one." His response was smooth, dripping with a confidence that made my skin itch. He didn't even look at my face; he looked through me, seeing every secret I was trying to hide behind my ribs.

"You’re not my type anyway," he said, the words cutting through the air like a dull blade. "We’re mandated to consummate this marriage because I need an heir. The pack demands it, whether you like it or not."

Did he just say I wasn't his type? The arrogance was staggering. I knew I was beautiful…magnificent, even… and I didn't want to be anything to him. But deep down, the rejection stung. A hot, petty fire flared in my chest.

"Oh, so I’m not your type?" I leaned forward, my fork pointing at him like a weapon. "I’m sorry, is 'ethereal goddess' too much for you to handle? What exactly is your type? Someone who actually enjoys your sour attitude?"

He didn't even blink, just casually took another bite of his steak. "My type is usually a woman with a bit more... experience. Someone who knows what to do with a man like me without needing a manual." He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my reddening face. 

"I prefer women who can actually handle the heat, not little girls who shiver if I breathe too close to their neck. Someone who knows when to keep their mouth shut. And someone who doesn't look like they're about to cry every time I walk into a room."

The petty, arrogant bastard was throwing my virginity in my face. "I am not a little girl!" I snapped, my voice trembling with pure, unadulterated fury. 

"And for your information, I don’t shiver because I'm scared of you. You're just... unrefined."

"Unrefined?" He let out a dry, dark laugh. "Is that what you call it? I think you’re just worried that if I actually touched you, you’d realize your 'type' is exactly the kind of monster you claim to hate."

"In your dreams, Morano!" 

"In my bed, actually. Eventually." He leaned back, a smug, infuriating smirk playing on his lips. "But don't worry, foxy. I’ll be patient. I know how much you virgins like to pretend you aren't curious about how loud I can make you scream."

I wanted to throw my water at him, but my hand was shaking too much to even grab the glass. He was doing this on purpose…poking at the one thing he knew made me feel small…and the worst part was that it was working.

"And for your information, I don’t look like I’m about to cry. I look like I’m about to vomit because I hate your presence so much. My mouth stays open because I have a list of very important insults to get through, and you should be honored to hear them."

"Honored?" He let out a dry, dark laugh. "It’s a headache, foxy. A very loud, very pretty headache."

"Go find a quiet one then," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I’m sure there’s a nice, boring rock outside that would love to hear all about your boring shipments."

"I would," he rumbled, his voice dropping an octave as he looked into my eyes. "But a rock wouldn't look nearly as good as you do when you're trying to pretend you don't want to jump my bones."

"The most important thing is I wouldn’t force myself on you, Jayla," he continued, acting as if he hadn't just insulted me to my face. "But if you keep refusing me, I definitely know where to go to make myself feel good."

"You’re going to cheat on your wife? You’re married, for goodness sake!" My voice cracked like a whip, louder than I intended. The thought of him with someone else… his hands on another woman, his mouth on her skin… sent a jolt of pure, ugly jealousy through my veins.