Page 136 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
I’m trapped beneath him, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his face inches from mine. For a heartbeat, his eyes are wild—the eyes of a beast ready to kill whatever threat dared to wake him.
Then, awareness flickers in those blue depths. His grip on my wrists loosens slightly, and relief floods his features so completely, it’s almost painful to watch.
“Astra.” My name comes out rough and grateful. “You’re awake.” His gaze roams over my face like he’s cataloging every detail, making sure I’m real. Then, “Why did you hit me?”
“I’m going to do it again.”
The threat probably doesn’t carry much weight, considering I’m pinned beneath him and completely at his mercy. But something in my voice must convince him I mean it, because instead of looking concerned, he laughs.
It’s a rich, warm sound that does terrible things to my resolve. “Go ahead,” he says, his mouth curving into that infuriating smirk I know so well. “Hit me as many times as you want. I deserve it.”
Before I can respond, his head dips down, and he captures my lips in a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. It’s desperate and demanding and full of everything he can’t say. I can taste relief in it, gratitude, possession—like he’s trying to pour his entire soul into me through this connection.
When he pulls back, we’re both breathing heavily.
“I’m never letting you go,” he says against my lips, his voice rough with promise. “Never again. I don’t care who tries to take you from me.”
The words should terrify me. The possessiveness in his tone, the way his eyes burn when he looks at me—it’s intense beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. But instead of fear, I feel something hot and raw unfurling inside me.
I push against his chest, and he goes obediently, releasing my wrists. Before I can sit up, though, his hands are on my waist, and suddenly I’m being pulled up and over until I’m straddling his hips.
The position sends heat rushing through me like wildfire. I can feel every hard plane of his body beneath me, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. His hands rest on my thighs, not confining me but claiming me nonetheless.
“Much better,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction.
I try to glare at him, but it’s difficult when he’s looking at me like I’m everything he has ever wanted. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You said you were a mercenary.”
“You assumed I was a mercenary. I just never corrected you.”
“That’s lying.”
“That’s omission.”
“Same thing.”
A look of guilt crosses his face. “Maybe it is.”
“I was barely a match for the mercenary,” I say quietly. “I’m definitely not a match for the crown prince.”
His hands tighten on my thighs, his eyes flashing fiercely. “You’re everything.”
The simple statement takes me aback. There’s no hesitation in his voice, no doubt. He says it like it’s the most fundamental truth in the universe.
“Lucian—”
“You’re my fated mate.” His hands slide up to frame my face, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “You were created for me, and I was created for you. You’re everything to me, crown prince or not. You’re the other half of my soul.”
“I can’t even shift.” The words come out broken, all my insecurities laid bare.
“I don’t care.” He pulls me down until our foreheads are touching. “I would choose you over anyone, over everyone. Prince or pauper, it doesn’t matter.”
“Your father—”
“Can go to hell if he thinks he can take you from me.”
