<h4>Chapter 271: Don’t Want to Share You</h4>
<strong>****************</strong>
<strong>Chapter 271</strong>
<strong>~Valerie’s POV~</strong>
There was a pause. And then he exhaled. "But I won’t lie and say I’m not... a little disappointed."
That hurt more than I thought it would.
I slowed to a stop and turned to him, my voice stiff and hoarse. "Disappointed?"
His eyes met mine, unreadable. "It would’ve been awesome, you know? To meet the final block thatpletes our quint as Alpha Heirs of the werewolf kingdom’s five heirs."
He shrugged casually, but I sensed theyers beneath it. "Five regions. Five heirs. We’ve waited years to see her. To see if the words were real."
He nced at me then, his gaze softer. "But I was also d it wasn’t you."
That confused me. "...Why?"
Dristan ran a hand through his hair. "Because that would’ve meant more pressure. More eyes watching your every move. More expectations on your shoulders." He paused again. "And... I don’t want to share you with the whole damn world like that."
Something fluttered in my chest, sharply but bittersweet.
"But if I ever see her," he added, gaze trailing toward the horizon.
"If..." I cut in. "If she is alive."
Dristan nodded. "If... but I honestly have no idea how I’d react."
I didn’t answer. And neither did he.
The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was quiet. Like we were both caught in a moment neither of us knew how to name.
We reached the front of the hotel. I stepped onto the stone walkway, and that was when the ache in my leg caught up with me again.
I winced, trying to hide it, but I stumbled slightly, my foot dragging against the ground.
Dristan noticed immediately.
Before I could brush it off, he reached for me without a word, bent slightly—and then scooped me into his arms, bridal style.
My breath caught. "Dristan—!"
He didn’t look fazed at all. "You’re limping."
"I can walk," I muttered, face burning as I gripped his shirt.
"Don’t care," he said, already walking. "I’m carrying you."
I stared at him, stunned for a moment, my pulse racing. The world seemed to blur past us as he carried me up the steps, his arms were warm and solid around me.
I didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, the exhaustion, or the quiet way he held me like I wasn’t heavy at all... but something inside me shifted.
I let myself rest against him, just for a little while.
And for the first time since the truth had been dragged into the firelight... I felt like maybe... just maybe... I wasn’t going to shatter.
The lobby lights were bright—too bright—after the dark forest. But that wasn’t what made my heart hammer.
It was the way everyone looked at us.
Dristan didn’t slow his steps as he carried me in his arms, shirtless save for a tight, fitted ck singlet that clung to every inch of his sculpted chest and arms. The material outlined his muscles unfairly—each movement of his biceps drew more stares than the broken ss chandelier above the front desk.
I could feel the heat of their gazes even as my face flushed.
A few women whispered and giggled behind manicured hands.
"Oh my goddess, he’s so hot."
"Did you see those arms?"
"I wish I could pretend to limp..."
I nearly groaned out loud. My face was on fire.
"Put me down," I muttered, fingers gripping his chest weakly.
"No," Dristan replied smoothly,pletely unfazed by the attention. "You’re injured. You’re mine. I’ll carry you."
I buried my face against his corbone, partly in embarrassment, partly because I didn’t want anyone to see just how red I’d turned.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. We stepped in. The doors closed.
Only then did I risk a re up at him. "I can walk. This is ridiculous."
He raised a brow. "Your limp says otherwise."
I huffed. "At least let me go once we’re on our floor."
He didn’t reply.
Which should’ve been my first clue.
Because the second the doors opened, he strode forward... and didn’t stop at <i>my</i> room.
Instead, he turned left. His room.
"Dristan." I stiffened. "You’re going the wrong way."
"No, I’m not."
"Yes, you <i>are</i>." I shoved at his chest. "Put me down. I need to go to <i>my</i> room."
He didn’t even pause. "You’re staying with me."
"What? Why?!"
"Because I’m going to bathe you. And then I’m going to take care of you."
I stared at him, mouth agape, heartbeat spiking so hard I forgot how to speak. "W-What?"
"Stop acting like you didn’t hear me."
He kicked the door open with his foot, walked in like this waspletely normal, and set me down gently on the bed.
The suite was warm, dimly lit by soft golden sconces, and smelled faintly of pine, cedarwood, and... him.
I instinctively covered my chest with both arms, even though I was still wearing the oversized shirt he gave me.
His eyes darkened slightly. "You can hide your body from me..." His voice dipped low. "...but you had no problem kissing a guy who isn’t even your mate?"
My breath hitched.
My fingers tightened on the hem of the shirt.
"That was a dare," I mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "It... wasn’t like that."
He stepped closer.
"And if it was me they dared you to kiss?"
I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust myself to.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing my chin until I had no choice but to look at him. "Look at me," he said quietly. "I want you to look at me when you speak."
So I did.
I lifted my gaze.
His eyes locked on mine—and then dropped briefly to my lips.
And then, very faintly, he cursed under his breath. "You don’t know what you do to me when you look at me like that..."
My stomach flipped.
His voice was strained now, huskier. "Biting your lip like that. Those big, round eyes staring up at me like you’re ready to be devoured."
"I’m not—"
"Yes, you are," he cut me off, his voice rough.
I hadn’t even realized I was still biting my lip until his thumb lightly brushed over it, easing it free. His eyes lingered there.
And then I heard it—a deep, low growl—not from him... but from within.
<strong>Soren.</strong>
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