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Chapter 8

Author: Nancy Grey
last update Last Updated: 2025-02-04 14:24:10

I gasped and stumbled back, barely managing to keep hold of the tray.

A woman rushed out, nearly crashing into me. She looked to be in her early twenties, her long blonde hair a tangled mess, her makeup smudged as if she had slept in it—or rather, hadn’t slept much at all. She was clutching a pair of high heels in one hand while using the other to adjust the thin strap of her dress. The wrinkled fabric barely clung to her curves, and the scent of expensive perfume mixed with Alpha Ronan’s scent clung to her skin like a lingering memory of the night before.

I didn’t need anyone to explain what had happened. The evidence was clear.

Something twisted in my stomach, and I braced myself for the pain—the sharp, unbearable agony that was supposed to come when a mate was unfaithful. It was said to feel like your soul was being ripped apart, like a fire burning inside your chest.

But… nothing.

There was no fire, no overwhelming pain. Just a dull, strange ache. A small pang of jealousy, maybe, but nothing like the pain I had heard about from others. Maybe it was because I didn’t have a wolf. Maybe that connection—the one that should have tied me to my mate—was broken.

The woman didn’t even spare me a glance. She strutted past me like I didn’t exist, her heels clicking against the floor as she hurried down the hallway.

I exhaled slowly, trying to push away the strange feelings swirling inside me.

Then, with my hands still trembling slightly, I turned back to the door. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and stepped inside the room.

I expected Alpha Ronan to be standing by the window or maybe sitting in a chair, ready to yell at me for being late. But instead, he was still in bed.

My breath hitched.

He wasn’t completely naked, but he might as well have been.

The black silk sheets covered only his lower half, resting low on his hips, barely hiding anything. His upper body was completely exposed, and I found myself staring before I could stop myself. His chest was broad and covered with a few scars, a reminder of the battles he had fought. His muscles were defined, every ridge and contour of his body standing out against the dim morning light that streamed in through the windows.

His dark hair was messy, falling over his forehead, and his strong jaw was dusted with light stubble. Even while asleep, he looked powerful—like a man who could command an entire army with just a single look.

And then my eyes drifted lower.

The sheets weren’t exactly doing a good job at hiding what was underneath. A huge bulge was visible beneath the fabric, and my face instantly heated up.

I swallowed hard, feeling like I had just seen something I wasn’t supposed to.

I forced myself to look away and take in my surroundings instead.

The room was massive, much larger than I expected. The walls were painted a deep charcoal gray, giving the space a dark, intimidating feel. The ceiling was high, with a black chandelier hanging in the center, its crystals catching the dim morning light. The furniture was all sleek and expensive-looking, mostly black with silver accents.

To my right, there was a large fireplace, unlit, with an intricately carved stone mantel. Above it hung a massive portrait of a wolf—its eyes a striking silver, just like Alpha Ronan’s. It looked almost alive, its gaze intense and watchful.

A seating area was positioned near the fireplace, consisting of a black leather couch and two matching armchairs. A glass coffee table sat in the middle, and on top of it was a half-empty bottle of whiskey and an empty glass, as if he had been drinking the night before.

To my left, floor-to-ceiling windows were covered by thick black curtains, only slightly parted to let a bit of light in. The faint glow of the morning sun barely softened the dark atmosphere of the room.

Near the windows stood a large, black wooden wardrobe, its doors slightly ajar, revealing neatly hung clothes—mostly dark shirts and pants. Next to it, there was a long dresser with a few items scattered on top—cologne, a watch, and what looked like a silver dagger.

And then there was the bed.

The massive four-poster bed was the centerpiece of the room, draped in black silk sheets. The headboard was made of dark leather, with silver studs lining its edges. The bed itself looked like it belonged to a king—fitting for someone like Alpha Ronan.

Everything about the room screamed power, wealth, and dominance.

And yet, it also felt cold. Emotionless.

Just like the man lying in the bed.

I looked back at Alpha Ronan, who was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling steadily. His breathing was deep and even, and I hesitated, unsure of what to do next. I tried calling out to him softly, but he didn’t stir.

My heart was racing. This was probably the most nerve-wracking thing I had done in a while.

I walked cautiously toward the bed, trying not to make any noise. The tray felt heavy in my hands, but I managed to set it down gently on the bedside table next to him. As I did, my eyes wandered over his bare chest again, the muscles there rippling even as he lay still. He was intimidating in the most beautiful way.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do next, but I knew I had to wake him up.

I tapped his shoulder lightly, just a soft nudge, but as soon as my fingers made contact with his skin, a shock of electricity shot through me, all the way down to the pit of my stomach. I gasped, trying to pull my hand back, but before I could, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to him.

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