Matheo’s expression darkens, every word spoken with deadly precision. “I’m the man who’s about to kill you if you don’t immediately back away from my omega.”
Egret’s jaw slackens as he processes Matheo’s words. He turns back to me, disbelief written across his face. “This is one of your alphas?”
I lean back against the couch, body relaxing with relief. “Egret, this is Matheo. You can go now.”
Before Egret can respond, Matheo crosses the room in three long strides. He grabs Egret by the collar of his expensive shirt and hauls him to his feet with frightening ease. The movement is so swift that Egret doesn’t even have time to resist.
“Listen carefully,” Matheo says, his voice low and controlled despite the fury radiating from him. “I’m looking forward to the big day. Congratulations, by the way.” His grip tightens, bunching the fabric of Egret’s shirt. “But if you don’t leave this room right now, you’ll be getting married with a face so swollen your own mother won’t recognize you.”
Egret’s face flushes with anger, but he holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Then he hesitates, glancing between us. For a moment, I think he might rethink his decision not to say something challenging, but he just slowly backs toward the door.
“The doctor is on his way,” he says, addressing Matheo without meeting his eyes. “Try not to let her fall asleep.”
When the door closes behind him, Matheo immediately turns to me, his expression shifting from murderous to concerned in an instant.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” He kneels beside the couch, his hand gently cradling the back of my head.
When his fingers find the swelling, I wince. “It’s just a bump.”
He urges me to lay back down on the couch, careful to keep me from pressing the injured part of my head against the cushion. “Please tell me your asshole ex didn’t have anything to do with this. Because if he did, I’m going to have to work a little harder to hide his body after I kill him so I can get away with it. Pretty sure Indonesia has the death penalty for murder.”
I laugh, the sound escaping before I can stop it. The absurdity of his comment cuts through the throbbing pain in my skull.
His expression remains grave as he continues to stare at me.
“You’re not actually serious?” I ask, studying his face.
His expression doesn’t change, but then I catch the slight quirk at the corner of his full lips. Not quite a smile, but the ghost of one.
“Probably not. Your ex is likely safe as long as nothing else happens to you on his watch.” His hand gently brushes a strand of hair from my face, careful to avoid the tender spot at the back of my head. “Though I can’t make any promises if I catch him yelling at you again.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his protectiveness. It’s been so long since anyone outside of my family looked at me with that kind of concern—like my wellbeing actually matters to them. The feeling is so unexpected, so disarming, that I can’t help but lean slightly into his touch.
“Then I guess you’d better not let me out of your sightagain this week,” I say playfully, though my voice comes out softer than intended. “For Egret’s safety, of course.”
Matheo’s eyes darken as they lock with mine. “Deal.”
The word hangs between us, weighted with something neither of us acknowledges. His gaze drops to my lips for the briefest moment before returning to my eyes, asking a silent question.
My heart pounds against my ribs as he leans closer, slowly enough that I could pull away if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. The pain in my head recedes, replaced by a different kind of dizziness altogether.
“Is this okay?” he whispers, close enough now that I feel his breath against my lips.
I nod, my eyes already fluttering closed in anticipation. The dizziness from my injury is long forgotten, replaced by lightheadedness that has everything to do with Matheo’s proximity.
I feel him shift closer, the warmth of his body radiating against mine. His hand gently cups my cheek, tilting my face up toward his. My breath catches as I wait for the press of his lips against mine?—
BANG BANG BANG!
The violent pounding on the door shatters the moment. We jerk apart, Matheo cursing under his breath as he rises to his feet.
“That must be the doctor,” he says, his voice rough with frustration that matches my own.
I watch him go to the door, feeling simultaneously frustrated and relieved. It’s only been a few hours and I’m already letting myself forget that none of this is real.
If I can’t keep him, I would be an idiot to let myself get attached.
FIFTEEN
