Ace’s POV
My body moved before my mind could catch up—muscles coiled, instincts flaring. One swift step and my arms were around Ovelia, catching her just before gravity could drag her down. Her weight settled against , warm and unsteady.
"Ovelia, are you really okay?" My voice ca out rougher than I intended, laced with a protectiveness that surprised even .
She blinked up at , her pupils dilated, a dreamy smile playing on her lips. Her hand rose, her fingertips brushing my cheek with startling tenderness. "Hmmm, I’m okay, Ace," she murmured, her laughter light but unmistakably slurred.
I glanced at her nearly empty beer mug and groaned internally. "She’s drunk," I muttered, realization dawning. "One mug, and she’s already like this?"
Across the table, Ann and Ray exchanged knowing looks, their amusent palpable.
"Ann, take Ovelia—" I began, but Ray cut in, his grin wicked.
"Shouldn’t the husband take care of his mate when she’s had too much to drink?" he teased, waggling his eyebrows.
I shot him a glare, but Ann was already nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, sir! Ray and I will handle the bandit intel. We’ll update you later." Before I could protest, they vanished into the crowd, leaving with a giggling, unsteady Ovelia.
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. Carefully, I hooked an arm around her waist, steadying her as she swayed. Her warmth seeped into , her floral scent mingling with the faint bitterness of ale.
Grabbing the keys from the cashier, I called for help carrying our things upstairs. Every fiber of my being thrumd with a strange mix of exasperation and protectiveness.
"You’re really sothing, Ovelia, "I muttered under my breath, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.
•Inn Room•
The room was modest but clean—a single oil lamp cast flickering shadows across the wooden walls as I guided Ovelia inside.
"Ovelia, still with ?" I asked softly. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck.
"Yeah..." She pawed clumsily at her collar. "Ace, I’m burning up. Need... shower."
I steered her toward the bathroom, my grip firm but gentle. As the door clicked shut behind her, I busied myself with our packs, forcing my thoughts away from the sound of running water.
Focus. I fed the carrier pigeon, its beady eyes watching as I recalled Ray’s ssage winging its way to Shadow Ridge Prison. Hopefully, it’s enough to—
*CRASH.*
The sound from the bathroom sent my heart into my throat. I wrenched the door open—and froze.
Ovelia sat on the tiled floor, utterly bare, her skin glistening under the lamplight. Water sluiced down her shoulders, and for one paralyzing second, my wolf roared to life, hunger surging through like wildfire.
Protectiveness warred with sothing far more primal. My fingers twitched, aching to trace the curves of her body.
I swallowed hard. Control yourself.
I closed the door and, kneeling beside her, gently helped her lean against the wall. Relief washed over as I scanned her body; aside from a lingering cut on her left arm, she seed unhard, and the bruises had faded.
"What happened to you?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.
"There was an earthquake," she murmured, her eyes barely focusing.
A chuckle escaped despite the tension coiling in my gut. "Earthquake? You’re just drunk, Ovelia."
Helping her stand, I tried to ignore the way her body pressed against mine, the heat of her skin searing through my clothes. She turned to face , her fingers brushing my damp shirt, her touch sending sparks through my veins.
"Ace," she whispered, her voice husky. "It’s hot. I need to take a bath."
Her gaze locked onto mine—heavy, unguarded. The air between us thickened, electric.
I turned the shower back on, forcing my eyes to stay fixed on her face as I helped her wash. But then she sank to the floor again, staring blankly ahead, water cascading over her.
"Ovelia, can you cover your chest with your hand?" I asked, a hint of embarrassnt in my voice.
She looked at , her eyes filled with a mix of defiance and sadness. "Why should I? You’ve already seen without clothes," she replied softly, a tinge of lancholy lacing her words.
A wave of guilt washed over as I recalled the monts we’d shared before. I felt weak; even after all these years, I couldn’t control the desires of my wolf.
Ovelia dumping half the shampoo bottle on her head ("It’s snowing!") and her sudden philosophical musings ("Do wolves like baths?*), I was equal parts exasperated and endeared.
An hour later, I was certain I’d earned sainthood.
Then she stilled, her wet lashes lifting. "Ace... do you hate ?"
The question struck like a physical blow. "No," I said imdiately, cupping her face. "Never."
Her smile—soft, trusting—unraveled sothing in my chest.
But as I toweled her off, her fingers brushing mine, the tension returned tenfold. She leaned into , her breath warm against my skin. "Thank you," she whispered.
At this mont, I felt my wolfish desire bubbling inside . My hand slid into her damp hair, tilting her face up. Our lips t, and for one searing mont, she kissed back, her mouth sweet and yielding.
But as the heat of the mont intensified, the image of Eliana flashed into my mind. I recoiled, my heart pounding, a wave of guilt washing over .
I searched her eyes, and she mirrored my gaze, a mixture of confusion and desire dancing between us.
Taking both of her hands, I held them firmly and said, "Ovelia, from this mont on, I want to respect you. As of now we see each other as a friends, right?" My voice was steady, but my heart wasn’t. "Friends don’t... do this."
She studied , then—with a spark of mischief—extended her pinky. "Promise?"
A chuckle escaped . "I can’t promise I won’t want to. You’re my mate, even if I haven’t marked you yet." My pinky hooked around hers. "But I’ll try."
Her laughter was music. For a mont, it was just us—two souls tangled in sothing fragile and sweet.
Suddenly, Ovelia wrapped her arms around in a warm embrace. Just then, a knock on the bathroom door startled us. I stepped back, but the floor was slippery, and in an instant, we lost our balance, tumbling to the floor together.
"Ovelia?! Are you okay?!" I heard Ann’s voice, worry lacing every word.
*Silence.*
"Then—I’ll just—" Ann stamred.
"WAIT, ANN—" I said in panic.
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