Ss POV
+8 Pearls
I set Freya Thorne’s phone on the bedside table, my eyes tracing her even in slumber. The sedatives had her deeply asleep. but even in this unconscious state, she wasn’t entirely peaceful. Her pale skin glowed with a faint flush, her body radiating heat that seemed to fight against the medicine coursing through her veins. asionally, soft, broken murmurs escaped her lips.
It was the drug metabolizing through her system–normal, and nothing to worry about.
I nced at Wren, who had been standing silently behind me. “Tell me, Wren… why would she refuse me? There’s an easier way to ease her suffering, isn’t there?” My voice echoed in the quiet of the VIP ward.
Wren stiffened but chose his words carefully. “Miss Thorne is still married. She may have reservations… out of respect for hermitments.”
I hummed thoughtfully. Of course, by my standards, morality is a convenience, not a rule–but even I had to consider appearances sometimes.
And if she were single… would she ept then?” I asked, tilting my head, letting the question linger.
Wren hesitated, unsure how to answer. But I didn’t wait for him. I leaned forward slightly, brushing a light hand over the sheen of sweat on Freya’s forehead. My chest tightened at the thought of having her near. How much more mischief could this woman stir before I lost my restraint entirely?
In Wren’s eyes, I knew the truth. To me, people fell into two categories: useful… or not. But now, it seemed, there was a third: desired. And Freya Thorne had justnded squarely in that category. Whether that was good for her<b>, </b>I wasn’t sure.
When Freya awoke, her body <b>a </b>sticky sheen from sweat, fatigue pressing down on her, she startled at a voice from beside the bed.
“Awake, finally<b>?</b><b>” </b>I murmured, leaning back in the chair near the sofa.
Her eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly<b>, </b>taking in my presence. “Why… why are you here?”
“I brought <b>you </b>to the hospital. You <b>were </b>asleep, so naturally, I stayed,” I said calmly, as if nothing unusual had happened.
She frowned, recalling the events in <b>the </b><b>car</b><b>, </b>the treatment, and the sedatives. “How long have I been <b>asleep</b><b>?</b><b>” </b>
“Eighteen hours<b>,” </b>I replied simply.
She <b>froze</b>. “What<b>?</b><b>” </b><b>Her </b><b>gaze </b>flicked to me<b>, </b>suspicion sharpening.
<b>“</b><b>I </b>stayed with you the whole time. Eighteen hours. I think a simple thank–you is in order,” I added, letting a faint <b>edge </b>of amusement <b>trace </b>my words,
Freya was silent for a beat. Our rtionship was <b>far </b>from ordinary; barely even acquaintances, and yet here she was, and I had remained. No wonder the rumors <b>called </b>me unpredictable<b>, </b><b>a </b>wolf whose actions rarely followed the rules anyone <b>else </b><b>expected</b>.
I raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“…Thank you<b>,</b><b>” </b><b>she </b>finally muttered, <b>her </b>voice <b>small</b>, tinged with embarrassment.
After a thorough check, the doctors confirmed she was fine. <b>She </b>could be discharged. Her phone, drained of power, required a temporary charger from the hospital. Once it powered up, the screen lit with over a hundred <b>missed </b>calls and messages- from Lana, the police, even Caelum Grafton.
Before she could navigate them, her phone rang again. Freya answered. “Finally! I was worried sick! Ss… he didn’t let <b>me </b>into the hospital to see you. He didn’t-”
“Nothing,” she reassured, her voice steady. “He just made sure I got treatment. I inhaled some smoke at the <b>hotel</b>, that’s all.
<b>I’m </b>fine now,”
<b>1 </b>
PAY P
+8 Pearis
Lana breathed out in relief.
“I’m about to leave the hospital now,” Freya continued.
<b>“</b>I’ll wait at the entrance. You’ll see me the moment you step out,” Lana replied.
“Okay,” Freya said, ending the call. Then she turned toward me. “By the way, about the clothes you lent me from the mall… I got them dry–cleaned. I had nned to return them at the banquet yesterday, but that didn’t work out. Should I just have them shipped to Whitmor Manor?”
I tilted my head, a faint smile ying on my lips. Watching her carefully, I noted how she still carried herself with that stubborn spark even after everything. It made the idea of sending her clothes back seem secondary–almost trivial.
Somewhere deep in me, a wolf stirred. Protective. Territorial. Intrigued. Freya Thorne might not realize it yet, but she had stepped into my den–and into my attention. And I had no intention of letting her slip away easily.
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