“You’re just messing with me,” I say, though my voice lacks conviction as I peer at him over my shoulder.
Zayn’s smile fades, replaced by a look of sincerity. “I’m not, Cleo. You deserve better than Deacon. You deserve someone who sees your worth, who values you for who you are.”
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. The thought of being valued, cherished even, is both alluring and terrifying.
“Now go shower, I’ll find you some clothes,” he tells me.
Alpha Zayn leaves the bathroom to fetch me some clothes, and I turn on the water, adjusting it to a warm, soothing temperature. As I step under the spray, the water cascades over me, and I close my eyes, letting it wash over my skin. The tension in my muscles begins to loosen, while my mind refuses to quiet down.
My mind is a whirlpool of confusion and unbidden thoughts about Zayn and the things he just said. The way he moved, his muscles rippling under his skin, had left an imprint in my mind, one I find both unsettling and undeniably alluring. His presence seems to linger in the room, a tangible force I can’t ignore.
As I lather soap over my body, I find myself thinking about Zayn more, about the way his sweatpants had clung to him. It’s a visual that’s both provocative and intimate, and it sends a warm flush through my body.
I shake my head, trying to dispel these thoughts. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this, not now, not with everything that’s happened. It’s like a current I can’t swim against, drawing me in despite my best efforts to stay aloof. Rinsing my face, I open my eyes, and to my mortification, he walks back into the bathroom just as I am about to step out of the shower. His eyes never leaving mine, he strips off his own clothes and I open the door to hop out when he cages me back inside the shower, forcing me to remain in with him.
“Dude, you are getting far too comfortable with me!” I snap, my embarrassment morphing into irritation.
He smirks and steps into the shower with me. I try to hop out, but he reaches for the soap behind me, effectively caging me in. I take a step back, bumping into the cold tiles, letting out a shriek. I lurch forward and slam into him in my haste to get away. His strong arms wrap around me, stopping me from falling. Now, I am flush against him, feeling the heat of his bodyagainst mine and feeling my blood run to my face. I try to pull away. He keeps a hold of me.
“Only the other day, you were saying unshifted females shouldn’t be around unmated males?” I remind him, trying to sound confident despite my awkwardness. “I’m pretty sure you’re breaking your jailbait rule?”
He only smiles, tugging me even closer, making me gasp. “I figured that went out the window when I healed you last night,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks. “With my tongue.” He lets out a soft purr, and this time, his tongue runs along my lips.
Arousal floods me, and instinctively, I lean in toward him, only to realize what I am doing. I jerk away, but his grip on me remains strong. Embarrassment washes over me as he lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over my cheek. That silly smile still dances on his face, clearly toying with me. His scent envelops me, intoxicating and entrancing me.
Before I know it, I am leaning in again, our lips nearly touching as he speaks.
“I’m definitely getting too comfortable around you, but are you uncomfortable because you want me closer or because you’re scared of what Daddy will think if he finds out?” he asks, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Shut up,” I spit, glaring at him, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. The truth is, I can’t deny the strange attraction I have toward him. However that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him make fun of me for it.
“This is your fault because you’ve sired my wolf when you healed me!”
His eyes sparkle with mischief as his smile grows even wider, the sharp points of his canines peeking out from behind his lips. He laughs before releasing me from his grip.
I glare at him, still feeling the heat in my cheeks.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I warn him, trying to regain some control of my body. Instead of taking me seriously, he turns away from me to wash himself. I glare at his back before my eyes follow the trail of water droplets running down his strong shoulders, along the curve of his muscular back, and finally to the swell of his ass. When he turns around, my gaze lands on his cock—long, veiny and thick. I gulp at the size of it.
“Still think you wouldn’t have noticed if I slept with you?” he laughs, clearly enjoying my discomfort. As I lift my gaze to his face, I feel the heat in my cheeks intensify.
All the blood in my body seems to be rushing there, making me lightheaded.
“And she says she’s not a virgin; your blush says otherwise,” he teases, stepping closer and stepping under the water to rinse himself off. Feeling caught out and exposed, I stare at the wall, not knowing where else to look. Moments later, he hops out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. “I left you a towel on the sink,” he informs me, walking out of the bathroom.
I stand there, the water still cascading down my body. My mind floods with conflicting emotions. I can’t deny the fierce attraction pulsing between us, but I am also terrified of what it could mean. For me, for my pack, and for my relationship with my father if he finds out Zayn has sired my wolf before I even have a chance to meet her. The thought of my father finding out lingers uncomfortably.If he truly has, this is bad, he’ll have influence over my wolf, influence over me.
Hopping out, I wrap the towel around my body. I get dressed in the clothes he has left for me, which are men’s clothes that are too big and carry his intoxicating scent. As I step out of the bathroom, I try to regain my composure, preparing myself for whatever lies ahead.
Even with the uncertainty and fear, part of me feels alive, electric. And inexplicably drawn to the puzzling Alpha who has so thoroughly turned my world upside down and is on the verge of getting me murdered by my father.
Trying to explain one run-in with the Alpha was bad enough. How the heck will I explain spending the night with him? My father must be raising the alarm as we speak. What if Deacon went to my house looking for me, or if Lydia saw him take me, and told my father? Panic slivers through my veins at that thought.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I find Zayn waiting for me. The scent of him clings to the fabric, simultaneously comforting and maddening. I know I should be furious with him for siring my wolf, and I find I can’t bring myself to hate him for it, considering he did stop anything from possibly happening to me. It’s the only thing that explains the strange attraction I have toward the man.
“Please tell me we aren’t leaving your pack with me dressed like this?” I whine, tugging at the clothes once I am dressed. As I do, my pants fall, prompting a shriek from me as I scramble to pull them back up. Zayn laughs, his eyes dancing with amusement as he reaches over to help me. He grabs the waistband, hoisting them up so high I can almost tuck my breasts in them. I hiss when he gives me a wedgie, front and back. I glare at him, and he laughs, tying the drawstring again before stepping away, so I can try to pull his sweats from my crack. Great, now I have to walk around with a wedgie and camel toe.
“Come on,” he chuckles, guiding me toward the door. Reluctantly, I follow him, unable to shake the feeling that I am walking straight into the wolf’s den once home. We make our way through the grand hallways of his packhouse, eventually emerging outside, where my car is waiting.
