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Chapter 232:
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Demetri Contreras POV:
I watched Haven’s hasty retreat, a slow smile spreading across my lips.
My wolf was still pacing restlessly inside me, growling with frustration. It wanted me to drag her back, to mark her, to make her mine so completely she could never run again.
Easy, I told it, soothing the beast. You scared her.
I looked down at the armrest where she had been leaning. Her warmth, her scent, still lingered. My smile faded, replaced by a cold, sharp admiration as I replayed her brilliant strategy in my mind.
S𝘩𝗮𝗿𝘦 𝘺𝗼𝘂𝗋 𝘁ho𝘂𝗀h𝘁𝘀 оո 𝘨𝗮𝗅𝗻𝘰𝘃𝘦𝗹s.𝘤𝗈m
My Luna. She wasn’t just my cure, my salvation.
Now, she was my strategist.
This was getting more interesting by the second.
Haven Kramer POV:
I retreated to my bedroom. Lyle had already worked his magic. Everything was in perfect order, and a small vase of calming lavender sat on my nightstand.
I thanked him and sent him away.
I lay down on the bed, my mind a chaotic storm. Demetri’s plan. His wolf’s roar. The burning intensity in his eyes. It was all too much.
I rolled over, pulling a pillow over my head, and began a stern lecture to myself.
Haven Kramer, get a grip.
He is a dangerous man. A predator.
The tenderness, the reliance he showed me now — it could all be part of his act. A calculated strategy to keep me by his side.
I remembered the coldness in his eyes when he ordered Rory to the dungeons, the casual way he spoke of his enemies.
I could not, would not, let my guard down just because of one vow and a few intense moments.
Never get soft for a dangerous man. It was the first rule of survival I’d learned in my dark past life.
I repeated the phrase like a mantra, trying to quell the frantic fluttering in my chest.
This was just “dating.” An experiment. I could stop it at any time. I could leave.
The self-hypnosis eventually worked. Exhaustion washed over me, and I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
Demetri Contreras POV:
I slipped into her room, a silent shadow in the dark. It had become my nightly ritual, to watch her sleep, to assure myself she was safe, before I could find any rest of my own.
I moved to her bedside. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating her face.
She was not sleeping peacefully. Her brow was furrowed, and she mumbled in her sleep.
I leaned closer, my werewolf hearing picking up her whispered words.
“…Can’t get soft… he’s dangerous…”
My body froze. A chill, colder than any winter night, spread from my heart through my veins.
Dangerous? In her dreams, I was still the danger?
The elation I’d felt earlier, the triumph of her brilliant mind aligning with mine, all of it was extinguished. Doused by a bucket of ice water.
A violent, churning mix of hurt and rage swelled in my chest.
.
.
.