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39. In the Woods
Last Updated:
2025-09-10 22:20:29
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Alpha’s Little Plaything 44. Missed Calls
Loriah’s PoV “Homewrecker!” Marla’s shriek was a blade, cutting through what little peace I had left. I barely had time to clutch the sheet tighter before she stormed into the room, her manicured hand already holding up her phone. “I knew it!” she hissed, angling the camera at me. “I’ll ruin you, Loriah Dee. No one will hire you again once they see you spread out like a whore in another woman’s bed.” Before I could even breathe, Draco shot up from the mattress, all muscle and fury, and in a blur, the phone was no longer in Marla’s hand. He smashed it against the wooden floor, shards scattering across the rug. “You’ve gone too far, Marla!” His voice was guttural, shaking the walls. “You have no right barging in here, no right to my and Loriah’s cabin!” Marla screamed something back, but I didn’t hear it. Shame burned through me hotter than fire. My legs shook as I scrambled for the nearest escape, bolting into the bathroom. Thank the Goddess I’d slipped on Draco’s shirt l
Alpha’s Little Plaything 43. Surrender
Draco’s PoV I carried her in my arms to the jeep, refusing to let her walk on her shaky legs. She clung to me, her face hidden in my chest, trembling from what had just happened. My man drove us to a larger cabin—away from the chaos, away from the danger. When we arrived, she finally lifted her head. “Wait, Draco? Where did you bring me? Brea is still back at the cabins.” “She’ll be fine, baby girl. Leon’s with her, and you know how persistent he is.” Even through her fear, she chuckled softly, leaning her head back on me. That small sound was enough to ease the storm raging in my chest. “Why were you shirtless in the forest?” she asked, eyes narrowed despite the softness in her voice. “Looking for you,” I answered truthfully. “Why did you wander so far away from the cabins?” She stiffened, her gaze sliding away. “I wanted some fresh air and I… got lost.” My gut twisted, but I didn’t press her now. Not when she was still shaking. I helped her down from the jeep, my han
Alpha’s Little Plaything 42. The Black Wolf
Loriah’s PoV had spent most of the day locked inside my cabin, avoiding Draco like the plague. His wife was here, and whatever pull there was between us, it wasn’t right. When a knock startled me, I brushed my hair back into a messy bun. When I opened the door, Greg stood there, drenched—his shirt plastered to his chest and his shoes mud-caked. “What happened?” I asked, surprised. “The worst of the rain is over,” he said, pushing wet hair from his forehead, “but air patrol grounded the helicopters. Too much fog, strong winds. We’re stuck for the night.” I nodded. He didn’t come in—too wet, too muddy—but he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against my cheek. “Get some rest. I’ll be in my cabin if you need anything.” Then he jogged through the drizzle, leaving me with a pang of guilt I couldn’t name. Brea had already retired for the night, shaken by whatever had happened with Leon earlier. Alone, I changed into cotton pajamas, pulled on a hoodie, and that’s when another
Alpha’s Little Plaything 41. Keeping Her Safe
Draco’s PoV I’d been tightening like a coiled wire all morning, every polite smile I’d given Marla at the gates a knife in my gut. The forest should have been mine this morning — my sanctuary, the one place I could breathe when the world closed in — and instead it felt like a chessboard where she moved all the pieces. “You don’t have to be here, Marla,” I said, low enough that only she could hear. The equipment hummed around us. The crew shuffled props, oblivious. “You’re making this shoot impossible.” She turned with that rehearsed smile, which had charmed half the city and hardened the rest. “Oh, Draco, don’t be dramatic. I’m helping. Dad wanted everything perfect. You know how important this commercial is. It is for the new cell phone that promises services even in the most remote of places.” Perfect. As if her version of “perfect” didn’t include maneuvering every little thing to her advantage. I watched the fabric of her dress ripple as she walked, and I noticed the imper
Alpha’s Little Plaything 40. The Alpha Males
Loriah’s PoV The SUV door opened, and out stepped Draco and Leon. They walked toward us with the swagger that screamed alpha males on parade. My stomach dropped—half dread, half thrill. Brea’s reaction was instant. She crossed her arms and scowled. “Why are you here?” she snapped at Leon like he was gum stuck to her shoe. Leon smirked, unbothered. “I didn’t know you owned these woods, Ms. Mae,” he said, voice dripping with mockery. Brea huffed so hard I thought she’d blow the SUV back down the road. “Unbelievable.” She spun on her heel and marched off toward her cabin. Leon jogged after her like an annoying little brother who couldn’t take a hint. “Brea, wait!” I almost laughed, but then my attention caught on Draco—oh, sweet heavens—Draco. Jeans and a plain t-shirt should not be allowed to look that good. He pulled off his sunglasses in slow motion, like he was auditioning for the cover of some Alpha Bachelor Monthly. “Draco,” I breathed, hating how nervous my voice sounde
Alpha’s Little Plaything 39. In the Woods
Loriah’s PoV I folded another silk blouse into my suitcase, though my hands weren’t steady. My mind wasn’t on the trip—it hadn’t been since Draco’s arms wrapped around me and shattered every wall I had built over the last five years. Brea sprawled across my bed, chin propped on her palm, her eyes sharp as blades as they tracked my every move. She had silently watched me for minutes, but I knew she was winding up for the strike. “So you forgave him just like that?” she finally asked, her voice clipped with irritation. I sighed, pressing my palms to the rim of the suitcase before turning toward her. “I didn’t say I forgave him. But Brea… he was so sincere. For all the lies, for everything he kept from me, I can’t deny that every time he’s with me, he goes out of his way to make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters to him.” Brea scoffed, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Sincerity doesn’t erase five years, Loriah. And it sure as hell won’t erase Marla. A divorce like th
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