Page 60 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“And how exactly do you know he loves you?” Each word is sliced off, sharp as glass.
My jaw drops at his tone. “Because he told me so.”
“He told you so.” There’s disbelief in his voice, contempt even. “And that’s enough for you?”
“What else would I need?” The question comes out defensive, sharper than I expected.
“Actions,” he snaps, his temper finally breaking free. “Proof. Something more than pretty words spoken by a man who hardly knows you.”
“He does know me—”
“Does he?” Lucian steps closer, so close that I have to tilt my head back to meet his burning gaze. “Does he know that you hum when you’re happy? That you talk to your cat like she can understand every word? That you’d rather die free than live as a slave?”
My breath catches in my throat. Those are things Andrew doesn’t know, details about myself that I’ve never shared with him during our brief, weekly meetings.
“Does he know how reckless you are?” Lucian continues, his voice rough and intense. “How you venture into dangerous woods to gather herbs where others won’t go? How you savedmy life without hesitation, even though I was a stranger who could have killed you?”
His hands come up to grip both sides of my jaw, fingers firm against my skin, and the touch sends electricity racing through my veins. This close, I can see the gold flecks in his blue eyes, can feel the power exuding from him.
“Does he know that you experiment on yourself with dangerous poisons, testing cure after cure until you’ve developed remedies no one else has?”
“Lucian—”
“If I told you I loved you right now,” he says, his voice raw with desperation, “would you marry me instead?”
The question staggers me. My entire world tilts sideways, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. The answer should come immediately: a clear, resounding “no.” I love Andrew. I’m going to marry Andrew. But the word sticks in my throat, refusing to be uttered, and I find myself staring into Lucian’s blistering eyes with my heart hammering so hard I can’t even think.
“I—” I see a shift in his expression as he reads the confusion and uncertainty that I’m sure are written across my face.
He releases me brusquely, stepping back as if I’ve burned him. The loss of his touch is devastating, leaving me cold and aching.
“Shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. He looks uncomfortable, angry—at himself, at me, at the situation. “Let’s just get on with it.”
But I can’t let this go. “Lucian—”
“Forget I said anything.” His voice is sharp, cutting. “You’re right to want safety. You’re right to choose someone who’ll protect you and give you a quiet life.” He looks at me with something that might be pity, and it cuts deeper than any blade. “I just don’t understand how someone like you can believepeople so easily. How you can trust pretty words from a man who doesn’t even know the real you.”
The criticism stings more than it should. “I’m not naive.”
“Aren’t you?” There’s cruelty in his voice now, a deliberate attempt to hurt. “You’ve known this human for what, a few years? Spent maybe two hours total with him during all that time? He says he loves you, and you’re ready to believe him. You don’t even know what love feels like, but you’re convinced that’s what this is because he told you so.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s completely fair.” His voice turns harsh, almost vicious. “You’re so desperate to be wanted that you’ll settle for the first person who shows you basic kindness. You think gratitude is the same thing as love.”
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “At least Andrew wants me. At least he thinks I’m worth loving, unlike some people who find me nothing but annoying.”
The words hang between us like a challenge, and I see something flicker across his face—pain, maybe, or regret. But then his expression hardens again.
“You are annoying,” he says, his voice flat and cruel. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met. You argue with everything I say, you never listen to perfectly reasonable orders, you have no sense of self-preservation, and you talk constantly about things that don’t matter.”
Each word is like a knife to my chest. I can feel my composure cracking, the tears I’ve been fighting finally beginning to well up despite my efforts to hold them back.
“You chatter endlessly about a man who doesn’t deserve you, who couldn’t protect you if his life depended on it,” Lucian continues. “You’ve convinced yourself that settling for scraps is the same thing as being in love.”
The tears are threatening to spill over now, blurring my vision. With shaking hands, I dig into my knapsack and pull out the small pouch of coins—every silver piece I have to my name.
“Here,” I say hoarsely, thrusting the money toward him with trembling fingers. “Take it. All of it. You’ve more than earned it, dealing with someone as annoying as me.” My body feels cold, a numbness settling within me.
