Chapter Four

SYRA

“Are you serious right now?” Neema yelled the second they walked in.

I kept packing. “Getting a divorce makes sense since he’s a douchebag,” she continued, “but marrying the guy you dumped ten years ago today and moving in with him?!”

I chuckled. “Yeah, classic, right?”

“No freaking way!” Neema cried, grabbing my bag. “Agness, talk some sense into her!”

Agness just giggled and flopped onto the bed. “This is so epic! I’m putting it in my next novel!”

“Seriously, girl?” Neema groaned.

“It’s fine, Neema. She’s grown now—she can make her own questionable decisions,” Agness teased as I took my bag back.

She eyed me with a grin. “But for real, how did this even happen? Adrian’s not the type to just... agree, especially after everything.”

There was no backing out now. These two were MoonClaw wolves—my only ties left—and powerful ones at that.

I dropped the last of my clothes into the bag. “He wants to mark me at the upcoming Mate Ceremony.”

“What?!” Neema screeched. “You ran from MoonClaw and now you wanna join Moonhart? Syra, have you lost your damn mind?”

“Wait—you agreed?” Agness gasped, bouncing like a kid. “Spill! Give me the spice!”

I exhaled heavily. “I’m desperate, not stupid. I suggested a game.”

“A game?” Neema echoed, suspicious.

Agness started dancing on the bed, squealing, “This keeps getting better!”

“He has three months to seduce and flirt with me. If I fall, he gets to mark me. If not—I use him for a year to get what I want.”

Agness grabbed my shoulders, eyes sparkling. “What kind of flirting? Wordplay? Physical? Both?”

“That’s enough!” Neema barked, throwing up her hands. “Is that why you’re moving in?”

“Exactly.” I checked my watch. “And I’m running late.”

I rushed toward the door—and into the living room where Mike waved from the couch.

“Hi, Syra.”

“What’s with the look?” I asked, grabbing my pet fish.

“We heard everything,” Jake said, approaching. He was my father’s adopted son, one of the few constants after the fallout. “You’re rushing into this. You can’t just accept that man.”

“I can handle it,” I said sharply.

Neema scoffed. “Still stubborn. Do you really think the Steinhart Corporation will just welcome you? That his family will accept you?”

“No,” I said honestly. “But they’re giving me a chance... if I complete a project. The Solace Heights Development Project.”

Silence. Heavy. Their faces dropped—and I smelled trouble.

“What’s going on, Neema?” I asked, a chill creeping in.

“Oh, God,” she muttered. “They’re using you.”

“Using me? What are you talking about?”

Mike stepped in grimly. “Syra... MoonClaw and Moonhart packs aren’t exactly on friendly terms anymore.”

I froze. “What?”

Neema exhaled shakily. “After you ran, things between the packs... fell apart. Now they’re rivals. Always at each other’s throats.”

“It so happens that the two packs are after this project.”

_______________________________________________________________________

“Oh, that!” Adrian smirked when I brought it up, stretching lazily against the sofa as I tossed my bag onto it.

“Oh that?” I echoed, shooting him a glare. “Seriously? You didn’t think maybe giving me a heads-up would have been, I don’t know... common decency?”

He chuckled low and deep, rubbing his chin like he found me entertaining. “I see now.”

“See now?” I snapped, stepping in front of him, one hand on my hip, the other gesturing wildly. “Are you even trying to take this seriously, Adrian?”

He grinned shamelessly. “My bad, sunshine. Honestly, when you suggested this whole marriage thing, I figured you were still in that... adorably reckless phase. Still, you cut ties with them, I didn’t realize they cut you off completely.”

I huffed loudly, letting my head fall back slightly as I rolled my eyes  throwing in a playful side tilt of my head.

When I looked back at him through my lashes, his smirk had deepened.

“God help me,” he groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “The way you roll those eyes... pure torture.”

I barely bit back a smirk.

“Huh! Wordplay really doesn’t suit you,” I said with a sweet, fake smile.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping lower. “Oh, sunshine... you should know by now I’m much better with my hands than my words.”

Heat prickled across my skin, but I masked it with another eye roll, this one slower, more teasing.

He clutched his chest and gasped like I’d shot him. “Enough! You’re going to kill me with those damn eyes.”

“You’re seriously messed up!” I huffed. “Now tell me — where the hell is my room?”

He blinked at me, genuinely confused. “Room?”

“Yes. My room. You know, the place where I will be sleeping. Alone.”

He burst into laughter like I had just cracked the joke of the century. “Sunshine, you’re hilarious.”

I glared daggers at him while he struggled to breathe through his laughter.

“We’re husband and wife now,” he said between chuckles. “Even without a dumb wedding ceremony. One room. That’s the deal.”

“What? Are you insane?” I snapped.

“Oh, absolutely,” he grinned. “And before you get any ideas about the sofa  no can do. I need you close, remember?”

I turned and looked around the colossal house, two stories towering above us. Two damn floors... and he’s claiming there’s only one room?

“In this house?” I asked, pointing upward.

He nodded, absolutely serious. “Yep. One bedroom. Rest are study rooms, game rooms, storage.”

I huffed, snatching up my bag in frustration. He’s a damn piece of work!

What happened to the cold, self-centered man everyone talks about?

The Adrian who used to avoid me like the plague at parties — wouldn’t even toss me a passing glance?

I needed the cold-hearted Adrian...

"Hey?"

A light tap on my arm made me snap my eyes open.

"What now?" I snapped, turning over, only to find Adrian lying on his side, head propped up on his palm, watching me.

"I get you're pissed about the whole room situation," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But... was the pillow barricade really necessary?"

I clutched the pillow tighter, shoving it back into place with a dramatic slam between us.

"Sorry playboy," I grumbled. "That’s how it’s going to be. You stay on your side, I stay on mine. Don’t like it? The couch is free."

He chuckled — a slow, amused sound that made my skin prickle.

"What?" I growled, tossing him a glare.

"Anyone ever told you how insanely hot you are when you're all worked up?" he said, flashing a grin.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" I clapped sarcastically. "Nice try, Romeo. Doesn’t work."

"Oh, sure it doesn’t," he rumbled, voice dripping with mock sincerity — then his gaze dropped lower. His smirk widened.

"Oh my. I like the view."

My blood froze.

I looked down — and felt my soul leave my body.

Four buttons.

The oversized shirt I had thrown on had popped open, revealing a scandalous amount of skin.

"You—!" I shrieked, grabbing the nearest pillow and whacking him square across his stupidly handsome face.

"Perv!" I hissed, yanking the duvet up to my chin and turning my back to him.

His laughter rumbled behind me.

 And before I could calm down, I felt a tug on the duvet.

"Hey, Sunshine," he said, mischief dancing in his voice.

I ignored him, clutching the covers like a lifeline.

Another tug.

Another, more forceful pull.

Burning with fury, I turned around, ready to throw another pillow —

Only to find he'd already obliterated my precious pillow barrier.

And somehow he grabbed my pillow too, using it to yank me straight into his chest.

"What the hell!" I gasped, squirming, trying to push away.

But Adrian only smiled — a slow, lazy, devastating thing — as his arms locked around me tighter, trapping me against him like a damn teddy bear.

"Couldn't resist," he murmured, pressing my head flat against his chest with infuriating gentleness. "Much better."

He had the audacity  to pat my head like I was some grumpy cat.

I fought like hell, shoving, wriggling.

"Adrian! Let me go!" I growled, thrashing uselessly.

Finally, he loosened his grip just enough for me to pull back and glare at him —

Only to find his expression had shifted.

Gone was the teasing smirk.

What replaced it was darker, heavier, almost predatory.

"Sunshine," he rasped, voice a low growl that raked down my spine. "There are only two ways this night’s ending... and you’re choosing which."

I blinked, throat dry.

His hand brushed up, fingers tilting my chin toward him. His lips ghosted against mine — the lightest, slowest, most dangerous tease.

"Option one," he murmured, "you stay right here. Head on my chest. I pet your pretty little head all night."

My heart hammered violently.

"Or..." His voice dropped even lower, lips brushing along mine again — hot, feather-light, maddening.

"I pin you down, sunshine," he whispered, "and kiss you so hard you forget your own damn name."

His nose brushed mine, a breath away, his hand slipping around my waist, drawing me even closer.

"Honestly," he rasped, almost to himself, "I can still taste you from last time... and it’s driving me fucking crazy."

He hovered there, barely touching — his warmth curling around me like smoke, his mouth so close I could almost feel it again. His fingers tightened just slightly at my hip.

"So," he whispered, "what’s it gonna be, Syra?"