Page 85 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“Why are you growling?” Her voice is thick with sleep and irritation. “You’re bothering me.”
I didn’t realize I was growling, but now I feel the low rumble in my chest. My lips twitch despite my dark thoughts. Even half-asleep, she’s giving me attitude.
“What do you want, Astra?”
“I want you to let me sleep and stop being annoying.”
The word “annoying” hits me like a spark to dry kindling. Before I can stop myself, my hand tangles in her hair, gripping a fistful—not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to force her to look at me.
My voice drops dangerously low. “Is this how you plan to speak to me from now on?”
Her eyes glitter with defiance even as they widen at my tone. “If you have a problem with my attitude, you can always abandon me.”
The casual way she throws that word at me—“abandon”—creates a violent stir in my chest. As if I could ever leave her. As if I’m not bound to her by a bond stronger than steel.
I release her hair and grab her jaw instead, holding her still as I lean down and crush her mouth with mine.
The kiss is fierce, possessive, meant to brand her as mine. Her lips are soft and warm, and when she gasps in surprise, I deepen the kiss, tasting her shock and the faint sweetness that is pure Astra.
When I finally pull back, our lips are still touching, sharing the same breath.
“Every time you speak to me in that defiant tone,” I whisper against her mouth, “I’ll kiss you.”
Her face flushes scarlet, the color spreading down her neck in a way that makes my wolf preen with satisfaction. She tries to sit up, to escape my lap, but I don’t let her.
“Let me go,” she demands, pushing against my thigh.
“No.”
“Lucian—”
I cover her eyes with my hand, plunging her into gentle darkness. “Sleep.”
She struggles weakly against my hold. “I can’t sleep with—with your hand—”
“You can and you will.” My voice carries enough authority to make her stop fidgeting. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
“This is ridiculous,” she mutters, but I feel some of the tension leave her body. “I’m not a child who needs to be tucked in.”
“No,” I agree, stroking her hair with my free hand while keeping her eyes covered. “But you’re mine.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her breathing starting to even out despite her protests. “I don’t understand you.”
“You don’t have to understand me right now. Sleep, Astra.” I press my palm more firmly over her eyes. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I’m not tired.”
But even as she says it, her body relaxes further into my lap. Her breathing deepens, and I feel the moment she stops fighting sleep.
“Stubborn woman,” I murmur, but there’s possessive satisfaction in my voice.
She hums something that might be agreement before going completely limp. Within minutes, she’s breathing in the rhythm of deep sleep, her hand curled against my stomach again, securing herself to me.
I keep my hand over her eyes even though she’s sound asleep now. Something about the gesture feels protective, like I’m shielding what’s mine from nightmares, from the memories that haunt her when she’s awake.
The fire crackles softly, and Luna appears from wherever she’s been hunting, springing gracefully onto my shoulder. She settles there with a satisfied purr, apparently deciding this arrangement meets with her approval.
“At least one of you accepts where you belong,” I tell the cat quietly.
