Chapter 6: The wolf in my bedroom

“What?”

He was an Alpha. A man who likely had a penthouse that cost more than my entire neighborhood. And yet, he was standing in the middle of my cramped, one-bedroom apartment as if he’d just been invited for tea.

“Do you intend to sleep like that?” he asked, as his eyes swept over my rumpled office clothes.

“You’re… you’re just going to sit here?” I managed to choke out. My fingers were still twitching against my thighs.

“Act as though I am not here,” he replied nonchalantly.

I stared at him, absolutely speechless. Act as though a six-foot-four supernatural predator wasn't currently looming over my thrift-store rug? Was he insane?

Yeah, right!

Lucien didn't care to wait for my approval. He moved toward the small couch near my bed—the only furniture in the room beside a desk and a dresser—and sat down with a grace that felt entirely wrong in such a confined space.

He looked frustrated, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for a reason why he couldn't bring himself to leave.

It was nearly comical, but I still couldn't breathe.

I could smell him from across the room. It wasn't a rosy smell. It carried that intoxicating, dangerous mix of bourbon and wild forest. It was getting harder for me to think.

“You can’t stay here,” I insisted, my voice rising, my heart hammering. “This is my house. Are you seriously suggesting you’re going to stay here while I… while I bathe and go to bed? How is that normal?”

“What about anything that happened tonight is normal?” he countered calmly.

I froze. The damn bastard. He had me there. I’d seen a man turn into a monster. Normal was a luxury I’d lost the second I kissed him.

“Still!” I said, my hands twisting together in a frantic knot. “You can’t stay. What are you going to do, watch me sleep? Like some kind of… supernatural stalker?”

“Yes,” he said.

My mouth fell open. A cold, yet exciting chill slithered through my spine.

“Please,” the word escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

It was soft, trembling, and carried a vulnerability that made me want to kick myself!

“If you aren’t going to harm me… if you aren’t going to eat me either… then why punish me like this? Just let me have one night of peace.”

“You think I’m punishing you?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He seemed to be studying the way I flustered, his golden-flecked eyes tracking the rapid pulse in my throat.

“T-Then what is this? Is this a Snow White situation? Is this your first kiss? Did I…what? Trigger some twisted ancient spells?”

“I can hear everything you’re muttering, rabbit.” His deep voice ravaged through me, and I jerked.

I stopped mid-stride. “Super hearing? Seriously? This isn’t some teen drama on N*****x.”

“You are currently arguing with a werewolf,” he reminded me, arching an eyebrow in the sexiest manner I had seen. “A little consistency would be nice.”

He wasn't even trying, yet my resolve was faltering.

I swallowed my retort. He was right.

Why was I questioning the logistics of his hearing when he’d literally grown fangs an hour ago?

I turned to face him. “Fine. Then was it a magical kiss? Did it break your heart or something?”

Lucien broke into a sudden, deep laughter. He leaned back against the couch, the sound vibrating through the small apartment and my chest.

For a second, he looked human. He looked vibrant and painfully handsome.

It was a lie, of course. No human looked like that.

“You think I’ve never kissed a woman because I’m obsessed with you?” He stood up, the space suddenly feeling five sizes too small. “Will you also think I’ve never bedded one if I decide to bed you?”

What?

I nearly choked on my own saliva. The heat rushed to my face so fast it felt like a physical burn.

“What are you talking about? You’re the one acting like a fairytale princess because of one kiss! Besides, I kissed you!”

“And you’re quite proud of that, aren't you?” He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me like an oversized coat. “Go. Bathe. Do whatever it is you do. I just told you I wouldn't harm you. I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“Fine!” I snapped. I grabbed my towel and a change of clothes, storming toward the bathroom.

Usually, I’d be careless. I’d walk around in my underwear or change in the middle of the room. But with the King of the Wolves sitting five feet away, I was suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of skin.

I locked the door and stayed in the shower until the steam made my head spin, trying to scrub the feeling of his eyes off me.

When I realized I’d forgotten my actual pyjamas and only had my towel, my heart nearly stopped beating.

“Ariana…you stupid, stupid girl!” I murmured with frustration.

I peeked out, seeing him distractedly playing with a Rubik’s Cube from my nightstand.

“Can you… turn around?” I mumbled through the crack in the door.

“Why?” He didn't even look up, his voice dripping with his usual cheeky arrogance.

“Forget it,” I hissed.

I stepped out, my towel tucked tightly around my chest, and practically sprinted to my wardrobe.

I could feel his gaze darkening, a heavy, burning weight on my back. My legs wobbled, and the constant pounding of my heart made my stomach twist.

I didn't look at him until I was safely dressed in a modest, two-piece nightset.

I completely ignored him after that. I went into the galley kitchen, boiled some water, and made a bowl of noodles.

I ate alone on the tiny balcony, staring out at the Magma City lights, trying to pretend the man on my couch was just a hallucination…a really, smoking hot hallucination.

When I came back in, Lucien had removed his jacket and loosened his tie. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. He looked relaxed. Too relaxed.

“No dinner for me?” he asked casually as I climbed into bed.

“I don't know what you eat,”

“I like to eat women,” he said.

I stiffened. “Go ahead then,” I challenged, my voice shaking but defiant.

The air changed. The playfulness vanished, replaced by a thrumming tension that made the room feel electric and claustrophobic.

Lucien got up from the couch. He moved with a slow, deliberate intent that made me want to scream. Every step literally made my bones feel weaker.

He climbed on the bed, and it sank, lower than my trembling heart.

Before I could gasp, he reached out and pulled me into his chest. He settled above me, pinning me down with his weight.

My bravado shattered.

I was trembling so hard I thought I might break into two.

“I don't mind if I do,” he whispered, his deep voice igniting a twisted passion I never knew I had.

“Get off!” I protested, my face turning a deep, humiliated red.

“But you said I could.” He chuckled darkly, his eyes searching mine. He didn't move. He stayed there, dangerously close, his heat seeping into my bones. “Why did you kiss me that night? It can’t be a habit of yours, can it?”

“I told you in the car!” I snapped, trying to push against his shoulders. It was like trying to move a fucking mountain.

“I wasn't listening,” he admitted. “Tell me again. If the story is good, I’ll get off.”

I looked away, my embarrassment warring with the heart-wrenching reality of my boss's body on mine.

I explained it all again. The fight with Selene, Caleb’s smug face, the desperate need to prove I wasn't alone.

“A massacre of words,” he mused, recalling the restaurant. “And you chose me as your weapon.”

“I didn't know who you were,” I whispered, avoiding his sizzling gaze.

Lucien looked at me for a long time, his eyes stormy and curious. Finally, he nodded and rolled off me.

I immediately curled into a ball, pressing my back to him. My heart was racing a mile a bloody minute!

But he didn't leave.

He lay there beside me, staring at my back. I didn't sleep for a long time, painfully aware of the King lying in the dark, his presence a hungry, silent storm in my tiny room.