Word Count: 2712

~Lavelle

I look down at my food, grimacing.

Despite being off the ferry for a few hours, my body, nor my mind have become reaccustomed to land. It feels as though this sensation will never leave me.

After we got off the ship, Zyre insisted we head to an inn. Once we arrived, we got our rooms, and now I'm in the tavern next door, eating as Zyre instructed.

Or trying to, at least.

He's agreed to meet me here after cleaning up. I told him he shouldn't bother, that he don't need to spend any more time together than necessary, but he insisted.

I stab my fork into the mashed potatoes on my plate, willing my appetite to return. I'm weakening by the minute.

Instead of eating, I watch the patrons of the tavern go about their evening. Laughing, drinking, enjoying each other's company. It makes me yearn for a simpler life, less burdened by the looming cloud that is Zyre's brother.

A hand briefly touches my shoulder, turning my gaze up.

I expect to see Zyre, refreshed and ready to grate my nerves, but it's a stranger, wearing a long cloak and warm smile.

"Excuse me, you dropped this," he murmurs, holding his palm out.

Sitting on it, is a shiny gold coin, gilded below the mellow tavern lighting. A closer look reveals it's engraved with an unfamiliar insignia, meaning it's currency from this pack, not from mine.

I offer a dismissive smile. "Oh no, it must belong to someone else."

Instead of walking away, he steps further into my view, leaning closer.

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink with it?" He positions the coins between his forefinger and thumb, grinning at me.

"Ah, good one," I mutter, laying my fork down.

That is the first time I've been hit on in this way, but it's not exactly subtle. It makes me give him a proper look.

He's handsome in a warm, approachable way. His eyes are a melting pot of blue, green and brown, and they rove over me unabashedly. His auburn hair curls against his forehead and ears, and to look at his face, I have to look decently far up.

"Come on, you don't want a drink?"

"I'm married, but thank you," I say, before I realise what's coming out of my mouth.

His eyes widen a little, but it's not enough to chase him off. He only looms closer, pulling the other chair at my table out.

"Is your husband here?"

"Well...my husband is dead." I wince. My mind is so weak from a lack of food and sleep, I'm forgetting myself, forgetting that I shouldn't be giving all this up to a complete stranger.

His smile vanishes. This has to be what makes him back off, realising I'm more work than he thought I would be.

"Oh." He clears his throat. "Okay..."

Still, he doesn't walk away...I may as well commit.

"He was murdered, and now I'm married to his murderer," I explain with a sigh.

He gapes at me, stunned. "Interesting."

"Not by choice," I amend.

The males mouth slowly closes. It sounds even more ridiculous coming out of my mouth as it does swimming around in my head.

He sinks down into the chair he pulled out, making me straighten. He's persistent, and all for someone who might very well have vomit in her hair.

"Sounds incredibly complicated." He braces his forearms against the surface of the table. "You sound like you're from Alpha Avi's pack, by your voice. Before he died, anyway."

I almost laugh at the absurdity of this conversation.

"Uh huh."

"I've always wanted to visit your pack. If all the females are as beautiful as you, then I must." His smile returns. He's a male who is used to females falling at his feet, all charm and easygoingness.

I glance around the room, feeling a shift in the air that I can't explain. It's best I get this male away from my proximity, for his sake.

"You should probably go. My husband is meeting me here."

He fakes a shudder, still grinning. "Scary. The murderer one?"

"That's the one."

The males smile drops and he turns in his chair. Zyre looms directly behind him, staring, unamused, at his face.

Even if I hadn't told the stranger that my husband was murdered, and now I'm married to his murderer, I think he would still be frightened at Zyre's appearance.

His damp hair indicates he recently bathed, and he changed from the clothing he came off the ferry in, adorning a simple, fitted black jacket and tunic that does little to conceal his imposing stature.

Zyre is undoubtably an Alpha, and all that look upon him can see it.

The strangers chair makes a horrid wail against the wood floor as he scrambles out of it. "I'm sorry, I was just...well, I—"

"He was just leaving." I shoot the stranger a look — best he makes a break for it while he can.

He nods hurriedly, weaving out of Zyre's way. "Right...I was, yeah...leaving."

Zyre watches him, hands seated casually in his pants. The defensive posture is at odds with the intensity of which he scrutinises him.

"My wife is beautiful, is she not?" Zyre looks down at me with a short smile, then back at the petrified male.

"Don't answer that," I warn. Not just because I've been throwing up for days, and really don't feel like I look my best, but because I don't know what Zyre will do if he's entertained by this line of questioning.

The male inches further away. "I should go."

"No, stay. Eat with us." Zyre gestures at the table, his offer dripping with a dark and terrible warning.

I pin the male with a look. "Leave, if you have any sense."

He doesn't wait for permission from Zyre. He immediately turns and melts into the tavern crowd.

Laughing huskily under his breath, Zyre takes the seat the male was in moments ago. He's all grace and easy movements, painfully aware of his inherent authority and confidence.

I ball my fingers into fists under the table as his scent washes over me — he smells freshly washed, like citrus soap and mint.

"You ruin my fun," he murmurs, sweeping that heavy gaze at me.

"You were antagonising him." I take a small sip of my wine. "He was nice."

Had that male been stupid enough to sit back down at the table with Zyre present, I have no doubt he would have left thoroughly embarrassed and ashamed.

"I'm not getting in your way, am I?" A line appears between his brows.

I roll my eyes. "Oh please."

"You don't believe you're expected to be loyal to me, do you?" He cants his head. "If he pleases you, go for it."

This feels like a challenge, to see where my head is at.

Of course, I would never admit to him that I haven't craved another male since I met him. Seducing that stranger doesn't appeal to me in the slightest — even less so since I was pulled into Zyre's bed and given the best orgasm of my life.

I adjust in my seat, crossing my legs. "I'm still mourning Avi."

He stares at me, unrelenting.

"No you're not," he whispers, eyes tracking the way my tongue moves across my lower lip, collecting a stray drop of wine.

I blink. How does he know with such unfiltered confidence?

While he awaits my response, he leans over to take my glass of wine by the stem. I watch quietly as takes a sip, gaze snagging on the way his jaw flexes.

He is far too attractive for me to just be sitting here. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of conceding.

"Fine, perhaps I will seduce him."

I barely lift myself an inch off the chair before Zyre lays a hand over mine on the table.

He looks up at me, offering the barest shake of his head.

I sink back down into the chair. "Don't say what you don't mean."

He shrugs smoothly. "I didn't realise I was possessive until now."

"You told me you were letting go, leaving me be," I remind him, a little breathless.

"I am," he muses. "I don't want you to flirt with that male in front of me, is all."

I'm glad he didn't call my bluff, for I wouldn't have been able to go through with seducing that male. Even if I did, there is only one person my thoughts we be on, and it wouldn't be him.

"Can I invite him to my room, later?" I smile sardonically.

He exhales slowly, whisky coloured eyes burning. I can hear the tension in his breath — I'm winding him up.

"If you need to take the edge of, allow me." His fingers tap on the table in front of him.

"I don't fuck murderers," I say bluntly.

"Who said anything about fucking?" He flashes a smile. "Call it a favour."

My mind returns to our night together, to the way he touched me, the way he made me beg. It makes my thighs press together, my skin burning. I take another sip of the wine, hoping he'll blame the alcohol for the tint of my cheeks.

"No." I swallow the rich liquid, feeling a slight buzz from it. "Thank you."

I think he's going to push, to make me succumb. But instead, his gaze drops to my plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes and green beans.

"You haven't eaten," he notes disapprovingly.

"My appetite is yet to return," I say, although this is the hungriest I've felt since we stepped onto the boat. "I have some questions for you that I need you to answer."

He leans back in his chair. "I'll answer any question you have, if you eat."

My eyes narrow, but I pick up my fork regardless. It's a fair trade, and there has been a lot on my mind recently, but we haven't been in the proximity to discuss.

"Why do you despise your brother?" I ask.

He nods down at my plate, his mouth remaining irritatingly closed.

With an exaggerated sigh, I pick up a green bean with my fork and pop it into my mouth. The food has gone a little cold since sitting here, but it will do.

"There are far too many reasons to list now," Zyre exclaims, watching me eat with unnerving intensity.

"Give it a go." I hover my fork over my mashed potatoes, both a threat and a promise.

He sighs, rubbing his jaw. I can practically see the shadow of his dark childhood cast over him.

"My brother and I have a long, sordid history. One that does not bear repeating right now," he states. "I will tell you, though. In time."

I take a bite of the mashed potatoes, relieved my stomach doesn't immediately heave. I'm slowly returning to normal again.

"What if Avi never intended to fill me with an heir on behalf of your brother? What if you took his title and his pack to bind me to you, and now you will fulfil your brothers wishes?"

It's been playing on my mind for a while now. It feels good to ask, to know I'll get my answer.

Something akin to hurt flashes across his face. "You believe I am working under a ruse? Lying to you about my intentions?"

"I suppose I am." I cut into the beef.

"Were my intentions to impregnate you, would I not have fucked you the night you came to my room to kill me?" His brows raise. "Instead of gratifying you with my fingers, would I have not instead used my cock?"

His crass choice of words turn a few heads from tables next to us, but thankfully, everyone is too intimated by Zyre to comment on it.

"Well..." I pause, caught up on his logic. "Perhaps you're playing a long game. You want my trust."

"I can assure you, I am not intending to fulfil my brothers wishes. Him getting what he wants would be incredibly dangerous." He sweeps a hand through his hair, now completely dry. "Yes, he wanted me to complete the mission, due to our shared bloodline. Of course I refused."

"I can't trust you."

"You must," he insists. "I am certain you know by now that I do not align with my brothers goals."

I scan his face before blowing out a long breath, my head bowing.

I do believe him. Nothing he has done in recent time has given me any reason to believe he's doing anything but spiting his brother.

But I needed to ask. Both for my own safety, but I couldn't handle being so attracted to someone who had bad intentions all along.

"Are you fucking Elowen?" I question, thinking back to the moment in his office with her. "This is the last time I'll ask."

He leans forward, the air around us thick with tension.

"No, Lavelle. I am not," he murmurs.

"Do you want to?"

"No."

My fingers are shaking a little as I reach for the stem of my wine glass. "Why not? She's beautiful, and she really likes you."

"One does not choose where their feelings end up. I am powerless to attraction, which for me, has landed somewhere entirely unexpected," he breathes.

A chill shivers up my spine, and the urge to lean over the table to him is unbearable.

"With me," I whisper.

He nods slowly.

"Eat, sweetheart. All of it," he instructs smoothly, leaning back, breaking the trance.  "And then I will walk you to your room."

I don't have the energy to argue. I finish my entire plate while he watches, and don't ask any more of the questions buzzing around in my mind. They will come later.

Once I'm finished, he pays for my meal and wine and walks me through to the inn. We don't speak as we climb the dark stairwell and into the narrow corridor.

I stop in front of my door, fishing the key out of my pocket.

I've just managed to take hold of it when Zyre grabs me suddenly, turning me. My back hits the door, Zyre crowding me, pressing his entire body against mine as he kisses me.

It's so sudden, so unexpected, I barely get the chance to breathe.

His tongue slides into my mouth, claiming the space, stealing the gasp in my throat. He kisses me languidly, passionately, like he's making love to me.

A small moan sounds from the back my throat as his hands slide up my waist, bunching the material of my sweater. He tastes like wine and mint, and I swear I can feel his rapid heartrate against me.

I clutch at him desperately, my fingers digging into his shoulders then down his back. There is no space between us, yet it doesn't feel close enough.

He groans into my mouth, a male brought to my mercy from a kiss alone. It makes me want to shove open this door, to drag him down onto my bed with me.

His hands sweep through my hair before they cradle my face. It's tender and it's desperate, and I know not a day will go by now, where I won't crave this.

When he pulls away, I whimper, immediately missing his touch.

"What was that for?" I whisper breathlessly, fingers raising to brush against my swollen lips.

He looks down at me longingly. "For being my wife, Lavelle. For being utterly perfect."

I don't get a chance to reply as he presses one last chaste kiss to my lips, and turns, walking off down the dark hallway.

I hastily unlock my door, pressing inside. Then, I pull the dresser in front of it, barricading myself in.

Because if I don't, I don't trust what I'll do tonight.

🖤••🖤

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~Midika 💜🐈‍⬛