Chapter 41
41
~Elara’s POV
I woke up groaning, my head pounding like someone was drumming inside it. My eyes fluttered open and the first thing I saw was Darlon—staring at me. My heart jumped, and I scrambled upright.
“How… how did I get here?” I asked, my voice cracking a little.
He smiled, that damn smile that made my stomach twist. “You drank a little too much last night. You don’t remember p>
I shook my head, trying to recall. Nothing. Blank. “I… I don’t think I did anything wrong, did I p>
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the bed. “Try to remember,” he said softly, his voice low and warm, making my heart flutter. My head throbbed, and the sunlight peeking through the curtains made it worse, but I couldn’t look away from him. He looked… too good. Too calm. Too in control. My stomach twisted with nerves and something I didn’t want to name.
I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what had happened, but a maid appeared in the doorway, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. She bowed, polite and careful.
“Good morning, Alpha Darlon. Good morning, My Luna,” she said.
Darlon took the bowl effortlessly from her hands and turned to me, that faint, unreadable smile curling on his lips. “My wife’s soup,” he said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “From now on, she will be staying in my room. Get all her things here at once p>
I froze. “Wait… my… my wife?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “You mean… me staying here p>
He chuckled, stepping closer with the soup. “Yes. I decided last night. Don’t say no p>
“But… why?” I asked, my head spinning with confusion and disbelief.
He brought the bowl closer, fanning it gently with his mouth to cool it, his eyes never leaving mine. “Because I want you here. Simple as that p>
I reached for the bowl instinctively. “I… I can manage it myself,” I murmured.
He tilted his head, amusement in his eyes. “I’ll feed you if I want to p>
I shook my head, stubborn. “No. I can handle it p>
Finally, he handed it to me, and I whispered a quiet, uncertain “thank you,” still staring at him. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the last night. Did I do something wrong? Did I embarrass myself?
Before I could dwell further, I heard the soft thuds of my belongings being brought in. Shoes, bags, clothes, accessories, everything I owned was arriving in his room, carried by the maid and placed neatly beside his things. My eyes widened. Did this mean… everything I had, all my life, was now part of his world too?
Darlon leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely, his eyes studying me like he could see right through my hesitation. “Finish your soup. Then we get ready for work. You’re coming with me, from today,” he said, his voice calm but carrying that quiet authority I’d come to know so well.
I shook my head, feeling my stomach tighten. “No. I p>
He cut me off, holding up a finger, calm yet firm. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll only be seen as boss and secretary anyway, just like you wanted. Now eat p>
I swallowed hard, staring down at the soup in my bowl, unsure where to even start. The steam curled gently into the air, carrying a faint scent of herbs. Tentatively, I brought the spoon to my lips and took a small sip.
Darlon’s lips curved into a faint, approving smile. “Good,” he said softly. “Now finish it p>
I nodded, taking another small spoonful. His gaze never left me, quiet and unrelenting, making me feel both seen and exposed at the same time. I kept my eyes mostly on the bowl, though I could feel his presence, the heat of him, and it made my heart skip in a way I hadn’t expected.
After a few minutes, he stood and walked toward the bathroom. The sound of running water soon filled the room, and I tried to focus on finishing my soup, but my mind wandered to him. What would it be like to actually live here, in this room with him? The thought made my hands tremble slightly as I set the empty bowl down.
A few moments later, the water stopped, and I heard him move around. When he emerged, the bathrobe clung slightly to his shoulders, leaving his chest bare. My breath hitched without warning, and my eyes followed him as he walked toward his wardrobe, reaching for clothes. He moved with that effortless grace, as if he owned every space he stepped into, and in a way, he did.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to pay attention to myself. Slowly, I slipped into my bathrobe, feeling shy, exposed. My body felt suddenly heavy with self-consciousness. I wanted to hide, to cover every curve, every line that didn’t match the perfect images I’d imagined of women like him.
He looked up at me, his smile soft and genuine, and my chest skipped again. “You look… beautiful,” he said. The word landed in the room with weight, a quiet command and a gift all at once.
I froze, my cheeks heating up. “You… you mean that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” he replied firmly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Why are you covering all your curves p>
My hands tightened on the edges of my bathrobe. “I… I don’t want you to think p>
He shook his head, cutting me off gently. “I’m not thinking anything bad. Now, go and take your bath p>
I hesitated, swallowing back the knot in my throat. Slowly, I made my way to the bathroom and then to my closet. My fingers hovered over the clothes Janae had helped me pick, unsure if I could pull myself together enough to wear them. Finally, I selected a pair of tailored trousers and a soft, fitted shirt, hoping the outfit could hide the parts I felt embarrassed about. I paired it with simple heels and the clutch I thought was discreet but stylish enough.
Darlon’s eyes followed every movement, soft yet intense. “You look so gorgeous. So beautiful,” he said.
I turned to look at myself in the mirror, shaking my head. “No… this isn’t true,” I whispered to my reflection, to him, to myself.
He stepped behind me, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. “Yes, it is,” he said quietly, gently, like a teacher coaxing a child to see what was already there. “Look at yourself. Really look. Don’t just see the clothes. See you. See how amazing you are p>
I blinked, my reflection now not just clothes or form but his words echoing in my ears. I felt my cheeks heat up, my lips parting slightly. I wanted to argue, wanted to say he was exaggerating, but his hand, his gaze, the way he held the room around me, it was impossible to ignore.
I shifted uncomfortably, still unsure, but his calm voice, his presence, made me want to believe. “I… I don’t know,” I murmured, almost to myself.
“You don’t have to know,” he said softly.
I swallowed hard, trying to follow his instructions. He leaned closer, voice soft. “Every line, every curve… it’s perfect. Don’t hide it. Don’t doubt it. You’re incredible, Elara p>
I blinked, feeling warmth spread through me, a mixture of disbelief and something tender I hadn’t let myself feel before. “I… I don’t know what to say p>
“Say nothing,” he said gently. “Just believe it p>