CHAPTER 36

 Beatrice’s POV

Unspoken TenSion. 

As I stepped onto the balcony of the hotel’s relaxation center, the cool night air — spiked with the ocean’s smell — hit me. The quiet murmur of conversation came from a few guests lounging in the area, but I didn’t engage, leaning against the railing and staring at the city lights below.

It was strange being here.

Funny how my whole life had split in two, so suddenly.

Seven days ago, I went from being an omega fighting for my life. Now I was flying on private jets, staying in presidential suites, and sharing a room with Xander Thane.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, needing a reprieve from my runaway thoughts.

Sarah answered on the second ring.

“Hello, you,” she said, warmly.

A smile tugged at my lips. “Hey. How are they?”

A rustling sound followed and then the unmistakable giggles of my children. My chest ached at the sound.

“Mama!” Charlotte’s voice came first, the loudest and most energetic.

“Mommy, are you coming back home soon?” Caleb said, with a hopeful tone.

I pressed the phone closer to my ear, swallowing the knot in my throat. As soon as I heard their small voices, my chest filled with heartache.

“Not yet, babe, but soon,” I murmured, smiling one they couldn’t see. “Are you all behaving?”

“Yes,” Cooper said, excitedly, but before I could answer, he added, “But Caleb and Charlotte were fighting over the last cookie today.”

I bit back a laugh. “Oh, really?”

Sarah’s voice chimed in, amused. “They resolved it with rock-paper-scissors. Very civilized, I must say.”

I breathed out slowly, my lips curling at the thought of them in our cramped apartment—tucked side by side, arguing about something as trivial as a cookie, their laughter ringing out. It was the kind of chaos I needed, the kind that provided a wholeness in our little world.

“How’s Cape Town?” Sarah asked after a pause.

I paused, looking over my shoulder at the enormous hotel entrance. It had a grand lobby, marble floors shining with warm lighting, chandeliers hanging above, the staff gliding around within the polished gleam. This place shouted luxury top to bottom. A world so unresembling that which I had crafted for myself, over time.

“…Different,” I confessed finally. “Luxurious. But also exhausting.”

“And Xander?”

My stomach clenched.

How could I possibly describe what was going on between us?

I had known one version of him for so long—the cold, untouchable Alpha. The man who had blotted my life like a shadow, determining my fate through terse orders and uncaring glances.

But now?

Now he wasn’t being cruel. He wasn’t being distant.

And somehow, that felt so much worse.

Because this Xander — the one who stood too close, who brushed against me as if he couldn’t help himself, who looked at me with an intensity that did things to my breath — was dangerous in a way I hadn’t been ready for.

I cleared my throat. “He’s… tolerable.”

Sarah snorted. “That’s progress.”

I exhaled a little laugh, shaking my head.

“But Beatrice,” she went on, her voice warming, “remember who you are. Whatever the outcome, don’t lose yourself. You’ve come too far.”

I nodded, though she wasn’t able to see me. “I know.”

And I did. Or at least I wanted to believe I did.

I talked with the triplets for a few more minutes, reassuring them that I was safe and that I’d be home soon. Their giddy little voices, their barrage of questions about Cape Town, about the “big scary Lycan King” who had kidnapped me — it all made me chuckle, but when the call was over, the familiar leaden weight returned to my chest.

Home felt so far away.

And yet, here I was. In a luxury suite, cocooned in a life that wasn’t mine, with a man who’d spent years putting distance between us.

And now? Now it was him closing that distance.

I rubbed my hand down my face and sighed, before heading back to the suite.

But as soon as I stepped in, I stopped dead.

Xander was already there.

He was standing beside the dining table, his hands in his pockets, while hotel staff arranged trays of food. The scent of the freshly cooked steak and roasted vegetables filled the air, but it did not help the tension I could feel instantly coiling in my stomach.

“You called food service?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.

He didn’t look up. “You need to eat.”

I hesitated.

It wasn’t a request.

It had been a statement, an order, delivered in the same calm, nonchalant tone he always used when he had already made up his mind.

But this time was different.

Something softer.

I swallowed and made my way over to the table, sitting across from him. The staff finalized setting everything up, quick and efficient as they left the room, leaving us alone.

And suddenly, in an instant, the silence became huge between us.

Thick. Heavy.

I looked down at my plate, stirring my food with my fork. His presence was suffocating, though not from fear of him.

No, the problem was that I didn’t.

I sneaked a glance at him.

His jaw set, his face inscrutable as he carved into his steak with practiced ease. His hands — strong, calloused — worked with precision, but his posture was stiff, as though something were boiling under the surface.

Was he regretting this?

Or had he been as lost as me?

I bit down on my lip, berating myself for not wanting to just eat, to act like this was the norm. Like I didn’t sit across from him, sharing a meal in an expensive hotel suite, twisting my stomach into knots.

But the silence was intolerable.

I sighed, placing my fork down. “Is this what it’s going to be?”

Xander’s gaze rose to meet me, piercing, inscrutable. “What?”

“This.” I gestured between us. “The awkward silence. The… whatever this is.”

He glared at me for a long moment before setting his own utensils down.

Then, to my shock, he leaned back in his chair, expelling air through his nose. “You think this is awkward?”

I blinked. “You don’t?”

A flicker passed through his expression. Amusement? Frustration? I couldn’t tell.

“I am not accustomed to others around during meals,” he confessed. “It’s… different.”

Different.

The same word I had used to describe Cape Town.

The same word I had used to talk about everything on this trip, about him, about us.

I swallowed. “Well, neither am I.”

His expression darkened a little, and I understood a little too late that I wielded words with weight.

I wasn’t used to this.

To being taken care of.

To someone making sure I was eating, to someone sitting across from me with no cruelty, no demands.

For a long while, I had been taking my meals in solitude, in silence, swallowing the food, forcing it down, just to make it through another day.

Xander paused before responding.

Instead, he took a bite of the steak on his plate — stabbing it with his fork — before responding.

“Then let’s get used to it.”

My breath caught.

It was far from a bold announcement. It wasn’t a plea.

It was simply a plain statement.

An offer.

A challenge.

And for the first time I thought maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t the only one scared of what was changing between us.

After dinner, one of the conference rooms was called to a company meeting.

I was relieved.

It meant that I could be with other people, could concentrate on something other than the simmering tension between Xander and me.

But there was something off the moment we walked in together.

People stared.

Some whispered.

Others hardly even pretended to disguise their grins.

And then I heard it.

“They’re sharing a room?”

“Did you notice how he looked at her earlier?”

“Maybe she’s responsible for the change in his behavior over the past few weeks.”

Heat flooded my face; I hurried to mine.

Xander’s face was impossible to read, but I noticed how his shoulders tensed.

Just as people started getting too settled in their tattle-tattle, he coughed and said, “Let’s get started.”

His voice was sharp. Commanding.

The murmurs died instantly.

For the next hour, we talked business proposals, expansion plans and logistics. Xander was blunt and to the point, leaving no room for distractions. Even as we worked, though, I could feel the eyes on us.

As the meeting ended and people began to leave, the whispers began anew.

I had just turned to dash out when I heard someone behind me say, “She probably has him wrapped around her finger now.”

I froze.

Before I could spin around to glare at the culprit, Xander spoke.

Loudly.

“If any of you are even reducing time to speculate about my personal life,” he said, voice slick but edged, “that means you’re not doing enough work.”

The entire room went silent.

I didn’t dare look at him.

I rushed out before I heard more, instead.

Now, by the time I got back to the suite, my head was spinning.

I didn’t understand Xander.

One second, he feigned indifference. The next, he was protective.

And here we were back in this room, just the two of us.

And it was still just a single bed.

The moment Xander came in, I heard the door shut behind me.

As I folded my arms, I turned to him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He arched a brow. “Do what?”

“Shut everyone up like that. Now they’re just going to assume more.”

He moved nearer, his eyes unwavering. “Let them assume.”

I swallowed. “But—”

“You’re my mate, Beatrice,” he said, his voice dropping lower now. “Whether you like it or not.”

I opened my mouth and realized I had nothing to say.

Because I didn’t know whether I liked it.

And I didn’t know if I hated it.

What I had was a heart thrumming, pulse hammering in the second he stepped a little closer.

His smell enveloped me, comfortable and heady.

My breath caught.

He was going to kiss me.

I could feel it.

And I wasn’t sure, for some reason, I wanted him to stop.

But then—

A knock at the door.

We both stiffened.

Xander’s jaw twitched in irritation before he withdrew.

I breathed out shakily as he walked to the door.

There stood a staff member, bowing slightly. “Commander, sir, we just received an urgent call. It’s about the business deal.’

Xander looked at me once and returned to the staff. “I’ll be right there.”

Once the door clicked shut once more, I released a long breath.

I didn’t know what had just happened.

But I knew one thing.

Tonight, we would still be sharing a bed.

And after what just happened…

I didn’t know how I was meant to survive it.”