THE WRONG ROOM

CHAPTER 5: THE WRONG ROOM

ZARA:

Rider looked at me, stunned by my defiance. For a second, the power in the room shifted. I saw the flash of doubt in his eyes—the moment where he realized the entire world wasn't really under his feet. The girl he thought he owned was finally waking up. But then he looked at Serena, and the mask slammed back into place.

"You’re pushing your luck, Zara," he growled. "You think you're the only one who can make a cup of tea?” Rider stepped closer. "I'm going to forgive you this once. But Zara, stop being so jealous of Serena," he said, like he was scolding a child. "You’re my mate, and we’re staying that way until I say otherwise. Now, put the suitcases back in the closet, go down to the kitchen, and brew my herbal tea."

With that, he lifted Serena onto his arms. She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. At the door, he stopped and glanced back at me, his eyes cold and distant. "And Zara? If you leave this house without my permission, don't you dare come crawling back. I won't take you back."

He honestly thought I was nothing without him. He thought I was just a stray dog that needed his scraps to survive.

The door clicked shut, leaving me in the suffocating silence of our suite. I sat on the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. I couldn't go back to my parents. My dad’s heart was too weak, and my mom was already stressed to the limit. I couldn't add this failure to their load. The only option was to stay in the hotel until Mia got back.

I grabbed my phone, booked the hotel room, and realized I couldn't take all my stuff. If I walked out with two suitcases, the guards would definitely stop me. I grabbed a hand bag, packed my passport, a little cash, my phone charger, and a few essentials, and shoved it under my arm.

I didn't wait for Rider to return. I slipped out the back service door of the pack house and hurried to the roadside, waiting for the Uber. When the car pulled up, I didn't even look back at the looming stone walls of the Stormfang estate. I just climbed in and watched the world blur past.

Almost an hour later, the car dropped me at the Grand Oak Hotel. I walked up to the front desk, my heart thumping against my ribs.

"Hi, checking in," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I slid my ID across the counter.

The receptionist gave me a polite, practiced smile, not sensing the storm brewing inside me. "Welcome, Ms Ravencrest. We have you in a deluxe room for two nights." She tapped a few keys on her computer, then handed me a heavy gold-embossed key card. "You’re on the 56th floor. Elevators are just to your left. Enjoy your stay."

I took the key, feeling a weird sense of relief as I stepped into the elevator. I pressed the button for the 56th floor. The ride was smooth, quiet, and private—exactly what I needed to calm my nerves. When the doors finally pinged open, I walked down the plush, dimly lit hallway. The carpet was so thick it felt like walking on clouds. I scanned the numbers until I found my room.

I pressed the key card to the reader. It beeped green. I pushed the door open, but it was already unlatched.

I frowned. That’s weird.

I stepped inside, my eyes widening. This wasn't a standard room. This was a massive, sprawling suite with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. It smelled like expensive cologne and leather. Did the receptionist make a mistake?

I didn't think twice. I was exhausted. I threw myself onto the massive king-sized bed, smoothing the expensive silk sheet with my hands, letting out a long, shaky breath. It felt like heaven after the hell I’d just been through.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, and a man stepped out.

I froze. He was stunningly handsome, but that wasn't what stopped my heart. He was tying a towel low around his waist, and beads of water were still clinging to his broad, tanned chest. His arms were strong and corded with veins, and his abs were so visibly outlined they looked like they’d been carved out of stone.

When I looked up to see his face, my breath hitched. Standing in front of me was Darius Stormfang. President of the Supreme Werewolf Council. Rider’s uncle. The most feared and respected man in our world.

A deep frown appeared on his face as he looked at me, his grey eyes narrowing in confusion and irritation. "Who the hell are you?" he barked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "And what are you doing in my hotel suite?"

"Your… your suite?" I stammered, my face heating up until I thought I’d burst into flames. "I—I’m so sorry, I think I have the wrong room."

I scrambled to my purse, fumbling with the clasp, desperate to find the key card to check again. And that was when it hit me. I looked at the number on my card, then at the brass plaque on the wall. I was on the wrong floor. My face went scarlet with embarrassment. I started to stutter through an apology, but Darius cut me off.

"Get the fuck out of my room," he snapped, his tone cold enough to freeze water.

I rose to my feet, took a deep, steadying breath, trying to regain some dignity. I looked him right in the eye, my voice shaking but firm. "With all due respect, sir, you don't have to be that rude. It was an honest mistake."

I turned on my heel, about to storm out of the room, but a hand shot out and caught my wrist before I was out of the door. He pulled me back until I stood next to him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. “You can't leave without telling me the real reason you barged in on me while I'm half naked.”