CHAPTER 7: Breakfast And Boundaries

I woke at six thirty after another sleepless night. The mark on my neck alternated between burning heat and a dull ache, the mate bond pulling me toward Darius’s quarters down the hall. I ignored it. At six fifty, I threw on jeans and a sweater, refusing to try and impress someone who had already decided I wasn't good enough.

The pack house dining room was mostly empty. Darius sat at a corner table, alone, reading a tablet. Even at seven AM, he looked perfectly put together in tactical gear.

"You are late," he said without looking up as I sat down.

"It is six fifty-eight."

"Early is on time. On time it is late." He finally looked at me, his eyes lingering on my messy hair. "Sit."

I grabbed my coffee. "Do you always wake up this charming?"

His jaw tightened. "I need to go over ground rules. One hour together every morning. Breakfast and conversation. Nothing physical. No expectations beyond civil interaction."

"Okay," I said, surprised by his bluntness. "But I have rules too. You treat me like a person, not an obligation. No humiliating me in public. And no lying. I’d rather deal with honesty than fake politeness."

Darius studied me. "I can do that."

"Can you? Yesterday you ignored me until you needed to order me around."

"I was trying to give you space," he admitted, the words sounding forced. "I am not good at this. Caring about how people feel."

"Then learn," I said gently. "The silent treatment isn't space. It’s cruel."

We ate in silence. Everything about him was mechanical and precise.

"Why did you become Beta?" I asked.

"I was raised for it. My father was the previous Beta. It was expected."

"Did you want to?"

"Want was irrelevant. The pack needed a strong Beta."

The matter-of-fact , his tone made me sad. He had locked his feelings away ten years ago when Maya died. "That sounds lonely," I whispered.

"It is practical," he countered. "Why do you bake?"

"Because people are happy when they eat something good," I said, bristling when he asked if I had "bigger ambitions." "My bakery isn't small. I built it from nothing at eighteen. I control it. No one can tell me I’m not good enough for it."

The barb hit home. Darius’s expression tightened. "I handled the marking poorly," he said finally. "I have spent ten years making sure I do not care about anyone. It keeps them safe and makes me functional. Then you appear, and suddenly I am supposed to feel things I cut out of myself a decade ago."

It was the most vulnerable he had ever been.

"No one is asking you to suddenly care," I said. "But we could start with basic respect."

"I can show respect."

His mouth twitched in something almost like a smile. "You do not let anything slide, do you?"

"Why should I?"

The next week fell into an uncomfortable routine of stiff morning conversations. I felt trapped; my bakery sat empty, and I couldn't leave pack territory without permission. On the eighth day, everything changed.

I was in the library when Sienna appeared. Her expression was predatory.

"We need to talk," she said, moving closer. "You are destroying him. Darius was disciplined before you showed up. Now he’s making mistakes. You’re an omega who got lucky with a mark, but eventually, he’ll see you for what you are—a mistake."

The words echoed my deepest fears. I stayed seated, trying to look calm, but my heart raced.

"Get away from her."

Darius stood in the doorway, his rage barely leashed. He walked forward, forcing Sienna to step back. Sienna spun around. "Beta Darius. I was just..." "You were threatening my mate."

The possessive weight of those words sent heat through my chest.

"Let me be clear, Sienna. Lila is under Alpha Marcus's protection. She is also under mine. If you threaten her again,

"If you threaten her again," Darius growled, "I will have you assigned to border patrol until you remember how to behave."

Sienna turned pale and fled.

"You didn't have to do that," I said once we were alone. "I was handling it."

"She called you weak. I will not allow anyone to treat you that way."

"Why do you care? You don't want this bond."

"I do not know," he admitted. "But when I felt your fear through the bond, I wanted to tear her apart."

"That’s just the bond talking."

"Maybe. But the feeling was real." He studied me. "I am trying, Lila. To see you as more than an obligation."

"Then tell me about Maya," I challenged. "Tell me why you can't let yourself feel."

His body went rigid. "No. That is the past. It does not matter."

"It matters because it’s why we’re stuck." I stepped closer. "Give me something, Darius."

For a second, the armor cracked. I saw old grief and pain in his eyes. Then he stepped back, the mask slamming shut.

"I need to get to training. Same time tomorrow."

He left before I could respond. I stood alone, touching the mark on my neck. We weren't working. And I was terrified that by the time he figured out how to let me in, it would be too late for both of us.