Page 79 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“That’s not—”
“When you called me pathetic,” I continue, the laughter finally dying down into something rawer, “that was the first true thing you said to me.”
His lips press together before he says, “You’re not pathetic.”
“I am.” The words sound final. “I fell for a human who wanted to sell me so I could be bred like a farm animal. So my children could be sold as exotic pets to powerful humans who wanted shifters as slaves.”
Lucian goes completely still.
“I’m stupid and pathetic, and you were right all along. I was annoying. I kept trying to find the good in life when the truth is that there is none.”
Silence stretches between us. Luna purrs against my chest, the only sound in our little clearing.
Finally, Lucian speaks. “You trusted Andrew because he said he cared about you.”
“Yes.”
“Would you trust me if I show you that I care about you?”
Anger flares in my chest, and my voice turns sharp, cutting. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” I start to stand up, and Luna hops off my lap. “If you want a charity case, go find someone else to save.”
His expression darkens instantly. “That’s not what this is.”
“What is it, then?” We’re both on our feet now, and I back away from him. “Why else would you—”
He moves fast. In the blink of an eye, his hand is cupping my jaw, and then, out of the blue, his mouth is crashing down on mine.
The kiss is fierce, desperate, nothing like the gentle touches I remember from Andrew. This is all heat and hunger and barely controlled desperation. His lips move against mine with bruising intensity, both his hands now tangling in my hair to hold me in place.
Fire explodes through my veins. Every nerve ending lights up like I’ve been electrified. My body responds instantly, traitorously, melting against him despite everything. Heat pools low in my belly, and I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but feel.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard. My lips feel swollen, tingling from the pressure of his mouth.
Shock courses through me—not just at what he did, but at my reaction. At the way my body is still humming with energy, still wanting more.
I hit him in the chest with both hands. “Let me go!”
He releases my head immediately, stepping back with his arms falling to his sides.
The loss of his warmth makes me feel hollow again. But the anger—the anger is real and bright and better than the emptiness.
I slap him.
The sound reverberates through the clearing, sharp as a gunshot. My palm stings from the impact, but he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t get angry. Just stands there, watching me with that intense gaze.
“Did that kiss feel like pity to you?” he asks quietly.
My head is spinning. My lips are still tingling, my body still buzzing with a desire I don’t understand. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you.”
I study his face, looking for the lie, the catch, the angle. Then, I feel a bitter smile spread across my lips. “You want my body.”
For the first time since I’ve known him, I see genuine shock on his face.
“Do you want to sleep with me?” I continue, my voice turning clinical. “Is that what this is about?”
“Astra—”
