Lila’s POV
His kisses trailed down from behind my ear, carrying a heat that spread like wildfire, igniting every inch of my skin. My body went limp, like a pool of melted snow, held firmly in his embrace. I couldn’t even muster an ounce of strength in my fingertips.
"Don’t hide..." he whispered in my ear, his voice impossibly hoarse. "Look at me, Lila."
I was forced to tilt my head up and meet his deep gaze. Gone was the usual dominance and plunder in his eyes. All that remained was a raw, almost fragile plea. He gently caressed my cheek with his thumb, the gesture so tender it made my heart ache.
"I’m sorry," he said suddenly. His voice was soft, but every word was clear. "I shouldn’t have bribed Eleanor. I just... I can’t help but want to protect you."
I froze. ’The high and mighty Wolf King, who holds the power of life and death, is apologizing to me right now?’
"I know you want to be independent," he continued, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling. "But every time I see you compromising for others, it feels like my heart is being torn apart. I’d rather you hate me for controlling you than watch you get hurt."
His confession was like a key, unexpectedly unlocking the hardest part of my heart. So this was the deep-seated fear hidden behind his domineering exterior.
My heart skipped a beat, then began to race wildly. A strange, sweet ache spread through my chest. ’Have I... really started to fall for him?’
’No, I can’t let this happen.’
’The moment I fall for him, it means I’ll start depending on him again. I’ll go back to being that weak person who needs protecting. It took me so long to finally stand on my own...’
Just then, he lowered his head and kissed me. This kiss wasn’t aggressive anymore; it was filled with reassurance and tenderness. His hand slowly slipped under the hem of my pajamas, his palm scorching hot as it brushed against the sensitive skin of my waist, sending a series of fine shivers through me.
My mind was screaming at me to push him away, but my body honestly drew closer to him, even arching my back slightly to meet his touch. His fingers deftly undid the clasp of my bra, covering that soft flesh. I sucked in a sharp breath as a wave of pleasure washed over me, drowning all my thoughts.
"Jasper..." I murmured unconsciously, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. I don’t know if I gripped too tightly or if the material was too thin... A sharp RIP, and a dangerous golden glint flashed in the eyes of the man before me.
His desire, already hard as iron, pressed against my core, grinding against me through the thin fabric and sending a wave of knee-weakening tingles through me. "Tell me you’re mine."
I was too shy to speak, only able to tremble gently in his arms. He didn’t press me further, instead staking his claim with his actions. His lips traveled down my collarbone, leaving scorching marks on my chest. One hand supported my waist, pulling me even tighter against him. I could clearly feel the tension in his every muscle, feel the desire he was suppressing to its absolute limit.
Just as he thrust forward, ready to possess me completely—
BZZZ—BZZZ—BZZZ—
The phone on the nightstand suddenly began to vibrate wildly, the sound exceptionally jarring in the quiet night.
We both froze.
Jasper’s eyes instantly turned dangerous. He cursed viciously but didn’t let me go. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of my neck and took a deep breath, trying to calm the desire about to erupt. I could feel his entire body trembling, like a wild beast being forcibly reined in.
"Ignore it," he commanded, his voice raw with suppressed anger and frustration.
But the phone kept vibrating persistently, its screen flashing in the dark like a baleful eye.
I bit my lip, a strange sense of unease rising within me. "What if... it’s an emergency?"
He was silent for a few seconds before finally, and very reluctantly, releasing me to grab the phone. The screen lit up, and the caller ID made my heart clench—Aunt Elizabeth.
She’s my adoptive mother.
Jasper glanced at it, his expression darkening, and immediately declined the call.
But less than three seconds later, the phone rang again.
"Answer it," I said softly, a bad feeling creeping over me.
He stared at me for a few seconds before finally swiping to answer and putting it on speaker.
"Lila! Lila, are you there?" Aunt Elizabeth’s voice came through the receiver, thick with tears and nearly cracking. "I’m begging you... you have to come back! Caleb... something’s happened to him!"
My heart sank.
"What’s wrong with him?" I asked instinctively, my voice trembling.
"He’s in a coma! The doctor said it’s acute encephalitis, and his fever won’t break!" Her sobs were heart-wrenching. "He keeps calling your name, Lila... Lila... He doesn’t recognize anyone else, he just calls for you! Please come back and see him, won’t you? Just for a moment! Mommy is begging you!"
On the other end of the line, there were only choked sobs.
A chill ran through me, and my fingers tightened unconsciously on Jasper’s arm. ’Caleb... is in a coma? And he’s been calling my name?’
I looked at Jasper, hoping to find some guidance in his expression. But his face had turned completely cold, his gaze terrifyingly grim, like an enraged lion whose territory had been invaded.
"Hang up," he ordered me coldly.
"But..." I hesitated, my voice weak. "He’s... he’s very sick..."
"So what?" Jasper’s voice suddenly rose, laced with undisguised fury. "What does it matter to you if he lives or dies? Lila, don’t you forget how he treated you!"
"I know..." I looked down, tears welling up in my eyes. "But Aunt Elizabeth... she’s my mother..."
"She’s not your real mother!" Jasper shot up, snatched the phone, and roared into it, "Listen here, Mrs. Goodrich! Lila is my wife, and she won’t be returning to your hypocritical home! If you dare to call and harass her again, I won’t hesitate to have the Goodrich Corporation delisted from the New York Stock Exchange tomorrow!"
With that, he viciously ended the call and hurled the phone to the other side of the room.
The room fell into a dead silence.
He turned around and looked at me with a complex expression in his eyes—a mix of anger, disappointment, and a hint of... hurt.
"Are you going to go?" he asked, his voice terrifyingly low. "For the man who abandoned you, humiliated you, and is now using a pity ploy to trick you into going back?"
I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it was blocked. I couldn’t say a single word.
’To go, or not to go?’
The question hung over my head like a knife.
He suddenly leaned in close, bracing his hands on either side of my head and trapping me between himself and the bed. His breath was hot, his gaze sharp as a blade, as he pressed me, word by deliberate word, "Lila, answer me. If you walk out that door right now, don’t ever come back. I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you—my patience has its limits."
His voice held no roar, yet it was more terrifying than any shout.
I stared at his face, so close to mine, and watched the storm brewing in his eyes. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest.
On one side, my critically ill "brother"; on the other, my furious husband.
On one side, the debt I owed for fifteen years of upbringing; on the other, a budding affection I didn’t dare to admit.
What should I do?