บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha's Forbidden Heir: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 6

“Who are you?” Damian asked.His voice sounded rough, like it scraped out of him. He didn’t really want my name. He wanted hell, I don’t even know. He wanted to make sense of whatever just shifted between us.I couldn’t answer. My body God, my body moved on its own. My back came off the wall before I meant to, my legs carried me toward him even as my mind screamed, Stop. You don’t even know him. But the scent of Damian thick, electric filled the air, seeped right into my lungs, my blood, like maybe it was always supposed to be there.“I don’t—” My hands shook as I raised them, pressing my palms flat against his chest. It should’ve made space, but it didn’t. My arms trembled, trying to push him away even as everything else in me wanted to close the distance. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”“Neither do I.”His hand slid around my waist before he even seemed to realize. I felt his fingers clench in my shirt, his heat bleeding into me, and somewhere in my head, alarms blared. Wrong

The restaurant Adrian picked sat on the top floor of a building, looking right over the harbor. Soft gold lighting warmed everything, and there was piano music drifting in, low enough that you hardly noticed it unless you listened for it. Honestly, Adrian had nailed the atmosphere: romantic, with the table set just so and candles that someone had definitely lit before we got there.“I ordered the wine you liked last time,” Adrian told me, pouring it for both of us. I’d be the only one actually drinking, though. Adrian never drank much in public it mattered, the way things looked. “The Barolo. You said it reminded you of your mother’s cooking. I still don't get how wine and cooking have anything to do with each other, but I remembered.”“You remembered.” I lifted my glass, letting his words work the way he meant them to. “That's sweet.”It was sweet. That was the exhausting part. Adrian wasn’t cold or cruel or anything else that might have made this easier. He reached across the table,

( Leon POV )Sleep didn't come.I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling for most of the night. The mark at my throat pulsed in slow, deliberate waves, making it hard to find a comfortable position for more than a few minutes. I tried lying on my side. The ache sharpened. I went back to my back, pressed a cool palm flat against my neck, and it helped only while my hand stayed there.Around two in the morning, I gave up and took one of the sleeping pills Dr. Whitmore had prescribed years ago for a different kind of sleeplessness. It didn't help this time. I lay awake and watched the numbers change on my bedside clock. My whole body felt tight, like a wire someone was plucking from a distance. Around four, I stopped fighting and just let myself lie there, exhausted and awake, until the window went grey with morning.I showered before breakfast because I didn't trust my face not to give away my state. I came downstairs in a shirt buttoned to the collar and sat down at the table across fr