Chapter 5

Lucian's Point of View

Bad idea. This was a bad idea.

I slid under the covers in nothing but my underwear, and the second I did, she moved.

Pressed right into me.

Her breasts squished against my arm. Soft. Warm. That flimsy silk nightdress doing absolutely nothing to hide them.

My whole body locked up.

What the hell.

Heat slammed through me. Fast. Brutal. The kind I hadn't felt in fifteen goddamn years.

She shifted again, leg tangling with mine, breath fanning across my chest. Slow and steady. Completely knocked out.

And I was wide awake. Every nerve on fire.

Her scent hit me next.

Red wine from the wedding. Something sweet underneath. Flowers, maybe. But there was something else too. Something deeper that made my wolf snap to attention like he'd been shocked.

No. No way.

Mate.

The word crashed through my skull.

I almost laughed. Almost. Because this had to be a joke. Some cosmic punishment for every bad thing I'd ever done.

‘She's ours,’ my wolf growled. ‘That's why we couldn't say no. That's why we took her hand at the altar like a damn fool. The bond. It's her.’

I stared at the ceiling. Heart going crazy. Head spinning.

He was right. The bastard was right.

When she'd pointed at me, when our eyes locked, something had snapped into place. I'd felt it. This pull in my chest. This need to say yes even though every logical part of my brain screamed to refuse.

She was supposed to marry Caleb. My son. The kid I'd raised since he was eight.

I should've told her no. Should've laughed it off. Suggested a cousin or something.

But I didn't.

I took her hand. Slid my ring on her finger. Kissed her like she'd always been mine.

Because my wolf knew. Even when I didn't.

Fifteen years. Fifteen years I'd been walking around half-dead, convinced I'd never have a mate. Never have that bond everyone talked about. The attack had taken that from me. Taken everything.

Or so I thought.\

“Lucian…”

Juliette mumbled something and burrowed closer. Her arm tightened across my chest. Her thigh slid up, brushing against—

I choked back a groan.

Hard. I was hard.

Actually, genuinely, painfully hard.

Fifteen years of nothing. Fifteen years of dead weight between my legs. And now this girl, this twenty-year-old girl who should've been my daughter-in-law, had me straining against my underwear like a teenager.

Unbelievable.

She rubbed against my hip. Unconscious. Just seeking warmth.

My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

Don't move. Don't wake her. Don't do something stupid.

But Goddess, she felt good. All soft curves and warm skin. That scent wrapping around me, making my head fuzzy. Making me forget why this was a terrible idea.

Because it was. A terrible idea.

She'd been engaged to my son this morning. The whole pack had watched her walk down that aisle expecting to become Caleb's wife.

Now she was mine.

Mine.

My wolf liked that word. Liked it a lot.

I'd had women before. Plenty of them. Being Alpha came with perks. But none of them ever did this to me. None of them made my wolf howl. Made my chest tight. Made me want to flip her over and—

Stop. Just stop.

Juliette sighed against my shoulder. Her lips brushed my skin.

My cock throbbed.

I was going to die. That's what was happening. I was going to die from blue balls in my own bed while my new wife drooled on my chest.

Great. Fantastic. What a way to go.

The whole pack thought I was impotent. Hell, I thought I was impotent. Caleb definitely thought so. That's why I adopted him. Because I couldn't make heirs of my own.

Except apparently I could. With her. Only her.

My wolf practically purred. Smug bastard.

I tried thinking about other things. Pack budgets. Border disputes. That leak in the east wing roof I kept forgetting to fix.

Nothing worked.

Every time I started to calm down, she'd move. Or breathe. Or make some little sound that sent blood rushing south all over again.

What would she do if I woke her up? If I told her what was happening? What she was doing to me?

She looked peaceful though. First time all day that the tension had left her face. All that anger and fear and fake bravado, gone. Just soft. Vulnerable.

She'd been through enough.

I wasn't about to add more.

So I stayed still. Stared at the ceiling. Tried not to think about how good she smelled or how her body fit against mine like she was made for it.

Hours passed. Felt like years.

She shifted. I gritted my teeth.

She sighed. I dug my nails into my palms.

She nuzzled into my neck, breath hot against my throat, and I had to bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood.

Goddess help me.

I could wake her. Tell her. Show her what she was doing to me.

But then what? She married me for revenge. For protection. Not because she wanted me. Not because she felt this insane pull that was making me lose my mind.

She didn't know about the mate bond. Didn't know any of it.

And if I told her now, half-drunk and hard as a rock, she'd probably think I was lying. Or worse, taking advantage.

No. I had to wait. Had to figure this out when my brain wasn't drowning in her scent.

This was hell. Actual hell.

Gray light started creeping through the curtains. Dawn. Finally.

Felt like I'd been lying there for a hundred years.

My eyes burned. Body exhausted. Still hard. Still aching.

I turned my head to look at her.

Messy hair everywhere. Makeup smudged under her eyes. A little bit of drool at the corner of her mouth. Not exactly the picture of elegance.

Beautiful. Stupidly, unfairly beautiful.

My mate.

Funny how two words could change everything.

The word settled in my chest. Heavy. Right.

Something in my chest cracked open.

Dangerous. This was dangerous. Feeling things for her. Wanting her. When she'd only chosen me to spite my son.

But I couldn't stop.

Didn't want to.

I pulled her closer, arm around her waist, and finally let my eyes close.