Page 98 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“Do you think we can’t afford it?”
She stares at me incredulously.
“You have my money.” I lean back in my chair, studying her flushed face. “Do you think I gave it to you without knowing how much there is?”
She fidgets with the leather pouch, not meeting my eyes. “I just—I’m not used to places like this.”
The server approaches, and I order wine and the house special without consulting the menu. When Astra starts to protest, I give her a look that has her snapping her mouth shut.
“Money is no longer a concern for you,” I tell her once we’re alone again. “The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”
“But why?” The question bursts out of her like she can’t hold it back any longer. “Why are you doing all this? The clothes, the book, this dinner—What do you want from me?” Her cheeks take on that deep flush of hers, and she lowers her voice to a hushed whisper. “If you just want to sleep with me, this is...a lot of effort.”
I shrug and then meet her gaze steadily. “I must be quite the scoundrel in your eyes if you think I’m doing all this just to get you into my bed. You must have quite a low opinion of me.”
She gulps and looks down at her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says stiffly. “I didn’t mean to—I don’t think you’re a scoundrel.”
The honest answer to her question would terrify her. I want everything. I want her trust, her smiles, her soft sighs when she sleeps. I want to see her eyes light up the way they did in thatbookstore. I want to kill anyone who ever made her feel like she wasn’t worth expensive dinners and pretty clothes.
But I can’t tell her any of that. Not yet.
“Can’t I want to take care of you?” I ask instead.
She stares at me like I’ve spoken a foreign language. “People don’t take care of me. Not without wanting something in return.”
The confusion in her voice makes me angry. Every interaction she has ever had has taught her that kindness comes with a price. That she’s only valuable for what others can extract from her.
“I’m not those people.”
The server returns with our wine. I watch Astra take a careful sip, and she smiles slightly at the taste. Quality wine, not the swill she’s probably used to.
“This is really good,” she admits reluctantly.
“Everything here will be good. That’s why we’re here.”
She takes another sip, and I see some of the tension leave her shoulders. “I still think this is all too much. And I still don’t know why you’re doing all this for me.”
Because you’re my mate. Because you deserve every good thing in the world. Because I want to watch you discover what it feels like to be cherished.
“Because I can.”
Our food arrives—tender meat in a rich sauce, with vegetables that taste like something other than survival. I watch Astra eat, noting the way she savors each bite like she’s trying to memorize the flavor.
“Good?” I ask.
She nods, swallowing. “I’ve never had anything like this.”
“What did you eat in your pack?”
Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth. “I wasn’t allowed to eat from the pack’s mess hall,” she says impassively. “So, I ate whatever I could hunt or forage myself.”
Rage burns through me, and I control it by studying the fork in my hand. If my mate wasn’t allowed to eat, I muse coldly, then her pack doesn’t deserve to eat. I make a mental note to cut the rations the kingdom sends to the Silver Stone Pack.
Astra is quiet after that, but she finishes everything on her plate. When the server offers dessert, she starts to shake her head, but I order some anyway.
“Lucian—”
“You’ll like it.”
