Chapter 032

“I just—” The words stuck in my throat, useless and trembling. What could I even say? That the silence was too heavy? That I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts, with the ache in my body and the chaos in my chest?

“I just don’t want to be alone right now,” I managed, voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn’t turn immediately. For a long, unbearable moment, the only sound in the room was the faint rustle of wind against the curtains. Then his hand slipped from the doorknob.

When he finally turned, his expression was unreadable again, but his eyes…..gods!, those eyes were softer than before.

Without a word, he crossed the room and sat back down in the chair, the same one he’d occupied before. Only this time, he wasn’t hiding in the shadows. The sunlight caught him fully, painting the edges of his jaw and his silver hair in gold.

I exhaled, a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

He leaned back, arms folded loosely now, gaze fixed on me. “You shouldn’t ask that of me,” he said quietly. “I’m not good company.”

A faint smile curved my lips. “I don’t need good company,” I murmured. “Just someone who won’t leave.”

Something flickered in his expression something sharp and fleeting, like pain. Then he looked away. “You shouldn’t get used to me staying, Rain.”

“Then don’t make it so easy to want you to.”

That made his head snap toward me, eyes darkening, a muscle ticking in his jaw. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The air between us thickened that same pull I’d felt during the dance, that unspoken electricity that made breathing harder.

He rose slowly from the chair and crossed the space between us, stopping at the edge of the bed. I could feel the heat radiating from him, could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“You’re trouble,” he said, his voice low enough to make my pulse jump.

“So I’ve been told,” I whispered back, meeting his gaze despite the way it burned straight through me.

He hesitated, as if weighing a decision only he understood. Then, instead of leaving, he sat on the edge of the bed not close enough to touch, but close enough that the air between us hummed.

“Get some rest,” he said finally, voice softer now.

I turned my head on the pillow, studying him in the half-light. “You’ll stay?”

His eyes met mine, steady and unreadable. “For a while.”

That was enough.

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his presence anchor me.

I was almost asleep when Darius’s boots made a quiet thud against the floor as he walked back toward me. I didn’t move — just watched him from the corner of my eye as he stopped beside the bed, the shadows shifting over his face.

Then, without a word, he sat down. The mattress dipped under his weight, close enough that I could feel the heat of him seeping into me.

My pulse stuttered.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice small, uncertain.

He didn’t answer immediately. He leaned forward, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe. Our faces were so close I could count the flecks of silver in his eyes. His breath brushed my lips, warm and slow, and my stomach fluttered in betrayal.

I thought he was going to kiss me.

I wanted him to.

But instead, his hand shifted away, and the soft creak of the drawer broke the spell. He reached inside, pulled out a small jar, and twisted the lid open. The sharp scent of herbs and mint filled the air.

“Hold still,” he murmured.

I did. My whole body froze as his fingers dipped into the ointment. Then came the first touch — a light press against the bruise on my cheek. I flinched, not from pain but from the surge of warmth that followed.

His touch was careful, slow. Almost reverent. He traced the line of a cut near my jaw, then brushed over the tender skin of my neck. Each stroke left a trail of tingling heat that had nothing to do with the medicine.

“Darius…” I breathed, barely able to form the word.

His gaze lifted to meet mine, dark and unreadable. “You should’ve fought smarter,” he said quietly. “Not harder.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice, I have never fought a day in my life” I murmured. “She would’ve ripped my throat out if I hesitated.”

The corner of his mouth twitched not quite a smile, but close. “Hmmm……And yet here you are. Throwing your first punch like you mean it.”

His thumb brushed the edge of my collarbone, spreading the last of the ointment there. My skin burned beneath his touch, every nerve alight with something I couldn’t name.

“Darius…” I whispered again, this time softer, uncertain if I was asking him to stop or continue.

He stilled. His eyes lingered on my lips for a fraction too long before he drew back, closing the jar with deliberate slowness.

“Try not to get yourself beaten again,” he said, his voice low but rougher than before.

He started to rise, but my hand shot out on its own, catching his wrist. His skin was warm beneath my fingers, the pulse beneath it steady but quick.

“Thank you,” I said.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then his hand turned under mine, fingers brushing my palm before he gently pulled free.

“Get some rest,” he murmured.

But he didn’t move far. He stayed there on the bed, head bowed slightly, as though leaving wasn’t as easy as he’d told himself it would be.

The room was quiet too quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the storm still raging inside me.

“If the bruises are still there by morning,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, “then we’ve got a problem.”

My brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back a little, eyes narrowing as they trailed over the faint marks on my neck and shoulder. “You’re not healing like the others,” he said slowly, almost accusingly. “By now, those cuts should be gone.”

My stomach knotted. I swallowed hard, forcing out a shaky laugh. “Maybe I’m just… a slow healer.”

He didn’t look amused. “You’re a Lycan’s mate, Rain. Even the weakest bloodlines mend faster than this.”

The air between us thickened, his gaze sharp, searching my face for something — a lie, a tell, anything that would explain what he was seeing. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat.

“It doesn’t matter, mate or not I haven’t been marked yet so it doesn’t count.” I said in one breath.

His nostrils flared at the statement, eyes pining me on the spot . “I can help with that, right here right now.”

My breath hitched, I could feeling my heartbeat increase, “I told you, I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping my voice didn’t betray the fear clawing at my chest. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all. Maybe that slowed it down.”

He tilted his head, studying me, his expression unreadable. “Lack of sleep doesn’t change anything Rain, you are not healing as you should.”

“Maybe I’m different,” I said quietly, gripping the sheet to keep my hands from shaking.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to press further to demand answers I couldn’t give but then he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Different,” he echoed, his tone unreadable. “That’s one word for it.”

He rose from the bed, the tension still thick in his shoulders. “Get some rest. You’ll need it if Amelia throws you into another fight.”

I nodded wordlessly, not trusting myself to speak.

Just as he reached the door, I whispered, “Darius… please don’t tell anyone.”

He paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. His eyes softened only for a heartbeat before his mask slid back into place.

“I won’t,” he said simply. Then, quieter, “But don’t give me a reason to regret it. Get. It. Checked. Out. By. morning.”

And with that, he was gone leaving me alone with the ache in my chest and the growing fear that my secret wouldn’t stay buried for much longer.