The Alpha Playboy Is My Mate. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

°Amy’s POV°Christian’s arms tightened around me, and I didn’t even bother to argue. What was the point? He’d already scooped me up like I weighed nothing, as if carrying me was as natural as breathing. My body still felt heavy, like I’d been dragged through fire and mud all at once, but I wasn’t worried. I knew I’d heal. That’s the thing about being a wolf—we break, but we don’t stay broken for long, but healing had it's own different kind of pain. The bigger the injury, the longer it takes to heal and the bigger the pain as well.But I was sure I was going to get through this, I've gone through the worst and still, here I was, still broken within, but still I was growing out of that dark space of self pity, betrayal…fear?Still, being pressed against his chest like that made me aware of every single beat of my heart. And it was too damn loud. I was pretty sure he could hear it, too. Wolves always hear things they shouldn’t.The air shifted as he pushed the door open with his shoulde

°Amy’s POV°Julie had this way of talking that just… eased the edges off everything. Like she’d been born knowing how to make people comfortable. I didn’t even notice when the dress I’d been holding slipped over my arm and a pile of clothes started forming in my hands. She was quick, thoughtful, and so unbothered about the fact that I was clearly out of place here.“You’ll need more than one pair of jeans,” she was saying, flipping through a rack like it was second nature. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”I smiled faintly, hugging the stack against my chest. “I think I’m already at ‘later.’”Julie chuckled, the sound light and easy. “Good sign. Means I’m doing my job.”Her presence made me forget, at least for a moment, about the weight of Christian’s gaze across the store. I could feel him there, leaning against a shelf, arms crossed, scanning the room like he didn’t know how not to. Protective. Watchful. Too much.Julie noticed my glance and tilted her head. “Is he with you?”“Yea

°Amy’s POV°The house was quiet when we pushed the door open. Too quiet, actually. I half expected everyone to be asleep already, but as soon as we stepped into the living room, I spotted her.Lydia.She was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her, a ball of yarn rolling lazily at her feet. Needles clicked together like she’d been sitting there for hours just waiting for us to show up.She didn’t even look surprised. Just lifted her head, peered over the edge of her glasses, and went, “And where are you two coming from this late?”Christian and I froze like little kids caught sneaking in after curfew.“Uh—” Christian started, scratching the back of his neck like he’d already been preparing an excuse.But Lydia didn’t even wait. She flicked her wrist, yarn bouncing. “Don’t bother lying. I can smell trouble on you, Christian. And Amy—” her gaze slid to me, sharp but soft at the same time, “your eyes are too red for it to just be from the wind.”I blinked, realizing my face probably

°Jeremy’s POV°I sank into the couch, the soft kind that swallows you whole if you sit long enough. My phone was in my hand again, and for maybe the fiftieth time today, my thumb hovered right above the call button. Just there. Not moving. Not pressing. Just stuck in that little space between doing it and backing out again.Should I call him, or shouldn’t I?That question had been haunting me all afternoon, bouncing around in my head like an annoying ringtone you can’t get rid of.I’d been living on my own since senior year of high school. Mom died, and suddenly the world got cold. Like, really cold. Dad? He wasn’t even around. He was somewhere in the UK—doing business, sitting in boardrooms, making decisions for people who wore suits and ties and for packs that bowed to him like he was some kind of savior. Alpha billionaire. That’s what the world saw. That’s what everyone else called him.But me? I just called him absent.He sent money, sure. He made sure tuition was paid and that I

°Jeremy’s POV°The drive home felt longer than usual. Maybe it was because my thoughts wouldn’t shut up, or maybe because every turn reminded me of something I didn’t want to think about.By the time I pulled into the driveway, the sky was dark. The house was glowing from inside — that warm, soft light that always made it look alive, like it was breathing. For a second, I just sat there in the car, staring at it.That house used to feel like safety. Now it just looked like a lie I didn’t know how to live in anymore.I ran a hand down my face and got out, the night air cold against my skin. My chest still felt heavy — like grief had built a home inside it and refused to leave.When I opened the door, the smell of food hit me immediately. Garlic and butter. A little burnt, but still good. Julie always cooked when she was waiting for me…said it calmed her down.“Jeremy?” Her voice came from the kitchen.“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding like someone else’s. “It’s me.”She appeared around