Freya’s POV
…
:
65
s
When Ss leaned closer in the car, whispering his vow that I could only ever be interested in him, my cheeks burned hot. I was not the type of she–wolf who spilled tender words in front of others, especially not with the driver sitting stiffly in the front seat pretending not to hear. But I could not let Ss’s unease fester any longer.
“Yes,” I told him, steadying my voice even as my pulse thundered. “I’m only interested in you.”
The moment those words left my lips, his expression shifted–storm clouds breaking into rare sunlight. A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his mouth. He caught my hand, lifted it with reverence, and pressed a kiss to my fingertip. His lips were hot, searing me with a im as primal as any mate mark.
“Then from now on,” he murmured, his voice low andmanding, “you can only be interested in me. No other male.<b>” </b>
I knew the driver’s ears were burning, but Ss did not care. Who would believe that the Irond Alpha–cold, ruthless, feared even among Alphas–could sound like an anxious young wolf desperate for reassurance?
Even back at my apartment, my fingertips still tingled from where his lips had touched me. The echo of his words clung like a phantom bond.
I drew a steadying breath and turned to him. “Ss, don’t ever pull something like that again. If you don’t like me watching certain performances, just tell me. There’s no need to stir up chaos to drag me away. I don’t want our issues spilling onto others.”
He tilted his head, eyes unreadable. I pushed on, softer now. “And you need to trust me more. Respect that I’ll spend time with my friends. I’m not going to fall for some dancer on a stage. To me, it’s nothing more than performance–form, grace, movement. Nothing deeper.”
We were still in our fragile stage, I knew. Every couple had to endure the grinding of stones before sparks became me. This was our trial by fire,
His dark eyes gleamed faintly. “Fine,” he said atst, his voice softer than I expected. “I’ll listen to you. I won’t do that again.”
Relief washed through me, but it didn’tst. His gaze sharpened again, a flicker of possessiveness beneath his calm. “But, Freya… I need you to give me confidence too.”
“Confidence<b>?</b><b>” </b>I blinked at him.
10:15 <b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>16 </b>
:
<b>65 </b>
<b>+5 </b>Free Coins
“Yes.” His tone was velvet, edged with steel. “Look at me more. Let me feel that I’m the only male who draws your attention. Make me believe you’ll not just love me, but love me deeply.”
When his voice dipped low like that, it sent a shiver racing down my spine. It was a wolf’s growl softened into seduction, and my body responded before my mind could resist.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I asked, wary but curious.
Instead of answering, he surprised me with a question. “Did you enjoy tonight’s performance?”
I hesitated. “It was… good. Those shows are professional. There’s beauty and strength in the movements. If it makes you uneasy, we could even watch together next time.”
Ss lowered hisshes, shadows darkening his face. “Rather than watch together, I’d prefer this–if you want to see a male dance, I’ll dance for you.”
I froze. “What?<b>” </b>
“I’ll dance,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I gaped at him. “You? Dance?”
“Why? You think I can’t?” His eyes sparked with challenge.
<b>I </b>swallowed hard. I had never imagined the Irond Alpha of the Coalition–the wolf whose name alone made rivals hesitate–saying something so absurd.
Before <b>I </b>could gather myself, he tugged at the tie at his throat. The silk slid loose, and he began unbuttoning his jacket.
Every inch of clothing he shed tightened a coil in my stomach. I’d seen plenty of half–dressed males in training yards, even tonight on that stage, muscles gleaming under spotlights as strangers screamed for them. But none of that prepared me for this.
Ss stripped down with unhurried confidence, each motion deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. By the time his shirt hit the floor, my breath was shallow, my heart mming against my ribs like <b>a </b>trapped thing.
He came closer, heat radiating from him, the raw scent of Alpha dominance threading the air. His gaze locked with mine, molten and unrelenting. “What kind of dance do you like?”
“You’ve… trained?” My voice cracked.
“No,” he admitted. “But I can learn. I’ve always been a quick study. If you want to see me dance, I’ll master it.”
<b>10:16 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>16
65
s
His wolf stirred, brushing mine with the weight of his intent. My throat tightened. This untouchable Alpha was offering to stumble through something so far beneath his station, just to please me.
“Though…” his eyes flickered down, shadows crossing his expression, “I have <b>scars</b>. If they ruin the sight for you, I can remove them. There are healers<b>–</b>scars can be erased now. I’d do it if you want.”
I sucked in a breath. “Ss!” My voice cracked sharper than intended.
He looked startled.
I reached up, cupping his face, holding him still. “I don’t care about scars. They’re proof you’ve fought, survived. Proof you’re strong. The only male I care about–the only one I’m interested in–is you.”
Hisshes trembled, and for the first time, I glimpsed uncertainty beneath his armor.
I didn’t give him room to doubt again. My arms slid around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. His lips were fire against mine, tentative at first, as though he feared I’d recoil. That hesitation nearly broke me.
He was Ss Whitmor, Alpha of the Irond Coalition, a wolf whomanded armies and forged alliances with nothing but his presence. Yet with me, he kissed like a male who thought himself unworthy, who feared his mate would leave him at any moment.
The taste of him, the feel of him, sent something cracking in my chest. My nose stung with sudden heat.
“Ss,” I whispered against his mouth, trembling, “I want you.”
The words spilled out raw, unguarded, pulled straight from the depths of my wolf.