Page 39 of Forced Alpha Bride
I have enough length in the chain to toss and turn a bit, and I’m so anxious, I feel like I’ll never get to sleep. Heat runs under my skin, and my fear of Damon is twisting into something far more intense. The horrible realization dawns on me that even if I could get away, I would want to see him again.
I can’t imagine never feeling this way again. As fucked up as this is, I’ve never felt more alive.
It’s the last clear thought I have before exhaustion finally creeps up on me, and I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
***
The smell of coffee teases me awake, and I sit up to find myself alone in bed. I hear Damon’s footsteps in the hall and look towards the doorway eagerly, reminding myself at the last second that I’m supposed to be mad at him.
Am I really happy to see him?
When his face appears in the doorway, he looks even more handsome than I remember. His thick, night-dark hair is combed back from his face, and in the full light of the morning, his eyes look deep brown instead of black.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, trying not to smile. He sets the tray down on the bedside table, and my mouth waters when I see the fresh, buttery croissants. I reach out and grab one, tearing pieces off it and shoving them into my mouth without looking at him.
Damon takes a step back and sits down on the floor across from me, dropping to the ground in one graceful movement. He keeps his distance, sitting quietly with his arms on his knees as he watches me eat.
Kind of like a cat watching a bird in a cage.
A shiver runs through me, that intoxicating mix of fear and desire that I’m beginning to get used to.
No. I’m not just getting used to it. I’m starting to crave it.
“Good?” Damon asks, and I look over at him, shrugging because my mouth is full. He chuckles and waits for me to finish.
“Yes,” I answer, picking up the cup of coffee. “Thank you.”
“We need to get going soon,” he says. “The council meeting is this morning, and it’s important. I’m assuming you’ll want to shower and change after breakfast?”
“Yes,” I answer with relief. “If you could just take these off—”
“No.”
“What?”
“I told you, I can’t risk you running away. I’m not taking off your cuffs.”
“But you can stand at the bathroom door!” I protest. “What, you think I’m going to jump out of a second-story window?”
He shrugs. “You might.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“I’m not disputing that. The whole situation is fucking bananas. I’m still not taking off the cuffs, though.”
“So, what do you suggest? Both of us getting in the shower like this?”
A faint glimmer of gold shimmers across his eyes, and I hear a low growl.
His wolf.
“If you insist,” he says very softly.
I watch his lips as he speaks, unable to look away from the delicate curve of his dark red lips. He gives a small smile, and I’m not sure if it’s a friendly, comforting smile or something more sinister.
Doesn’t matter. I’m loving it either way.
