Page 86 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
Luna’s purring grows louder, and she begins grooming my hair with her rough tongue. The sensation is oddly soothing, domestic in a way I’ve never experienced.
This is what I want. Astra sleeping in my lap, Luna perched on my shoulder, both of them exactly where they should be. It’s simple and perfect and everything I never knew I needed.
But tomorrow will bring complications. Andrew’s broken body, Astra’s desire for revenge, the question of what comes next, once we’ve dealt with her past. Eventually, I’ll have to tell her who I really am. Eventually, she’ll have to face the truth about the mate bond, about what we are to each other.
For now, though, she’s mine. Sleeping trustingly in my arms even though she denies it, her soft weight anchoring me in waysI can’t begin to explain. Her warmth seeping into my bones, her scent filling my lungs with every breath I take.
Mine to protect. Mine to possess. Mine to keep, for however long it takes to make her understand.
Let the Council scheme about concubines and political alliances. Let Lady Zari’s father rage about broken engagements. Let the King demand my immediate return to court.
None of it matters. Nothing matters except the woman in my arms and ensuring she never leaves my side again.
I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone take what’s mine.
The next morning, I wake up from a quick nap to find Astra sitting up, staring at the trees around us with a frown. Luna is curled in her lap, but her fingers aren’t moving through the cat’s fur like usual. She’s completely still, tense.
“Where are we?” she asks without looking at me.
I stretch, working the kinks out of my neck from sleeping against the tree. “About a day’s walk from Turnville.”
She’s quiet for a moment, processing this. Then she turns to face me. “Where did you find the healer? The one who treated me?”
“He owed me a favor.”
Her eyes narrow. “What kind of favor?”
“The kind that saves lives.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I shrug. “It’s the only one you’re getting.”
She glares at me but doesn’t push. Instead, she asks the question I’ve been dreading. “Why did you come looking for me in the first place?”
The words hang between us like a challenge. I could lie. Make up some story about professional obligation or delayed payment. But the way she’s looking at me—wary but hopeful—stops me.
“I was worried about you.”
“Why?”
The simple question cuts deeper than any blade. Why? Because you’re my mate. Because the thought of you in danger makes my wolf claw at the inside of my skull. Because I’m bound to you by something stronger than blood or bone.
“I just was.”
Her expression shutters instantly. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”
The disappointment in her voice hurts, but I can’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when she’s still so weak.
“I’m not the only one with secrets,” I say instead.
She goes very still. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why did you tell me you have a latent wolf when you can clearly extend your claws?”
Her mouth falls open slightly. “What?”
“I saw the claw marks on the faces of your attackers. Deep gouges across their cheeks and jaw lines. Those weren’t made by fingernails.”
