All Chapters of The Alpha's Proxy Bride : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Scout’s POV"You will probably not believe me," I said, looking straight into his dark eyes.The candle on the small table between us flickered, casting long shadows across his sharp jawline. He did not blink. He just sat there, keeping his face totally blank."But I will be honest," I added, crossing my arms over my chest to stop myself from shaking.Nixon leaned back in his heavy wooden chair. He did not say a word. He just waited for me to mess up."There is no point protecting people who threw me to the wolves," I said. The words tasted like ash in my mouth. I rubbed my palms against my skirt, trying to erase the memory of my family. "I read the letters because Simone did not. I was just being a good sister.""Really?"His voice came out flat and cold. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing to tiny slits."And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have been plotting to have me from the very beginning?"I let out a sharp laugh and pushed my chair back. The metal legs made a h

Nixon’s POV"Move another inch and you will sleep in the hall," I said, my voice cutting through the heavy quiet of the bedroom.Scout froze on the edge of the mattress. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the silk of her pink robe, her back stiff enough to snap. "The sentinel said this was where I belonged tonight.""The sentinel does not sleep in this bed." I dropped onto the opposite side of the mattress, keeping my eyes fixed on the ceiling plaster. The sheets between us felt like a thin strip of neutral territory in a war zone."I can leave," she muttered. She shifted her weight, the fabric of her nightgown rustling against the blankets. "Say the word and I am out the door.""And tell my mother what?" I turned my head on the pillow, watching her profile in the dim moonlight. "That the new mate cannot stand the sight of her Alpha for eight hours?"Scout bit her lower lip. Her chest rose and fell in a quick, shallow rhythm that told me exactly how terrified she was, no matter

Scout’s POV"You can enter," the sentinel said, his voice dropping to a low, tight rasp as he pulled the heavy oak door open.He refused to look at me. His focus stayed glued to the stone floor, his jaw tight enough to crack. I pulled the silken edges of my robe closer together, but the thin material did nothing to block the sudden chill of the hallway. The fabric clung to my skin, a cheap shield against his silent judgment. I stepped past him, my bare feet sinking into the plush, dark carpet of the private lounge. The door clicked shut behind me with a sharp, final snap that echoed in my chest.Everything in the room was suffocatingly perfect. Heavy leather chairs sat at precise right angles. Not a single throw pillow was out of place. It was a cold, calculated display of control, a physical extension of the man who ruled this wing. I moved silently through the dark wood lounge, my chest tightening with every step I took toward the open bedroom door.I stopped on the threshold. This

Scout’s POV"Get on your knees, Scout."The command sliced through the thick, warm fog of my sleep. It did not sound like a question. The deep tone wrapped around my spine and sent a sudden shiver straight down to my toes. My eyes remained shut, but my body moved before my brain could even process the words. The heavy blanket slid down my back, leaving my bare skin exposed to the cool air of the room. I pushed myself up on the mattress, my knees sinking into the soft fabric of the sheets. I did not turn around to face him. I did not need to see him to know exactly where he stood. The heavy weight of his gaze burned into the back of my neck like a physical touch."You listen so well," he murmured.His rough fingers hooked beneath my chin, tilting my face up toward the ceiling. The scent of pine and rain filled my nose, thick and intoxicating. His thumb dragged across my bottom lip, slow and heavy, pressing down until my mouth parted for him. My pulse throbbed in my ears. When he slippe

Scout’s POV"Get your hands off me," I hissed.My voice was too thin, a jagged scrape against the heavy silence of the bedroom. I didn't move. I couldn't. Nixon's arm was an iron bar clamped across my ribs, his broad palm splayed flat against my stomach. Every time he exhaled, his chest expanded against my shoulder blades, hot and thick through my thin shirt.He didn't stir. A low, gravelly twitch rattled in his throat, his fingers tightening just enough to dig into my hip bone."Let go," I whispered, the words pressing flat against the dark green wall ahead of us.Moonlight cut across the paint, a cold silver stripe that was rapidly thinning. Morning was bleeding into the room, turning the deep shadows into a dull, hostile grey. If he woke up like this, the trap would snap shut. He would think I crawled into him. He would think I wanted the weight of his thighs tangled in mine.I braced my palms against the mattress, freezing when the springs gave a microscopic creak. Inch by inch, I