Married To The Billionaire Alpha King Chapter 39- you are not sober

39

~Darlon’s POV

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Not even for a breath.

The club lights moved over her face in soft colors, and her mask hid half her features, but sohow I still saw everything. The nerves in her fingers. The way she kept rubbing her palm against her dress like she wanted to disappear into it. The way she refused to et my eyes for more than two seconds.

I leaned a little closer. "Elara," I whispered, "are you alright?"

She blinked slowly, like the whole room was spinning far too gently for her to fight it.

"I’m... fine," she murmured, but her voice sounded like she wasn’t sure of anything.

I watched her. Really watched her. And I saw the mont the alcohol finally hit her. The mont her cheeks ward, and her eyes softened, and she stopped pretending she wasn’t overwheld.

She looked at the drink in her hand, frowned at it, then looked at .

"Darlon..." Her voice slipped, softer than the music. "Do you... do you love Lira?"

I froze.

Of all the questions in the world... that one.

"Elara," I said carefully, "no. I don’t."

She squinted at like she was trying to see through my soul. "You do. I know you do. Not ."

"That’s not true."

"It is," she insisted, her voice wobbling. "You... you like perfect people. Perfect won. Slim. Beautiful. Confident. People like Lira. People like..." Her words tangled and she sighed. "Not ."

Sothing inside twisted. Hard.

"Elara." I reached for her hand. "Look at ."

She didn’t. She looked everywhere else. The lights. The floor. Her glass.

So I gently lifted her chin with my fingers.

And I saw it. The fear. The sadness. The years of thinking she wasn’t enough. It hit so suddenly it felt like soone had punched .

"You have no idea what you are doing to ," I whispered.

Her brows pulled together. "What do you an?"

"You an more to than you think."

"It’s a lie." Her lower lip trembled. "Look at , Darlon... what do I even have? I’m not..." Her breath shook. "I’m not beautiful like them. I’m not small. I’m too fat. I’m not confident. I’m not anything you would want."

"Elara..."

"I’m fat," she whispered, almost breaking. "I’m big. People stare. People laugh. And you... you look like soone carved you out of a magazine. Why would soone like you ever be with soone like ?"

I felt my chest pull so tight I had to inhale slowly to steady myself.

She really believed that.

She’d carried that pain quietly. Too quietly.

"Elara," I murmured, "don’t say that again. Please."

She shook her head. "It’s the truth."

"It’s not."

"It is. And I know you’ll say sweet things because you’re Alpha and you’re kind and you don’t want to hurt , but... but I know what I look like."

Her voice cracked.

And sothing inside cracked with it.

"Elara," I said softly, "you’re the only person I have ever looked at and felt... this." My voice dropped without warning. "This heaviness in my chest. This fear of losing your attention. This need to keep you close."

She blinked, confused. "?"

"Yes. You."

She stared at quietly, eyes watery, face flushed from the drink.

"I’ve never experienced love," she whispered suddenly. "Never. Except from Janae. She’s the only person who ever made feel like I mattered. If she wasn’t in my life, I think I would have... broken. I can’t live without her."

Her words slurred a little, growing slower and slower.

She leaned toward , almost resting on my arm.

And then...

She started snoring.

Actual soft snores.

I stared at her for a mont, shocked, then a quiet laugh slipped out of . I touched her cheek gently, my thumb brushing over the warm skin.

"I can’t live without you either," I whispered. "And I will do better. I swear it."

I slid my arms under her and lifted her in a bridal style. She curled into my chest like she’d been waiting for that spot her whole life.

People in the club gasped.

"Oh my goodness, look..."

"It’s the Alpha and his wife...."

"He carried her... that’s so sweet...."

Phones flashed, whispers followed us, but I didn’t look at any of them. I kept my eyes on the woman sleeping in my arms.

Outside, I opened the car door and the cold night air kind of rushed in around us. I didn’t even feel it, to be honest... I was too focused on her. I settled her gently into the seat, guiding her head so it wouldn’t hit anything, then I buckled her in the way you would buckle sothing precious. Her lashes fluttered a bit, like she was fighting the sleep that kept tugging at her, and for a second I just... looked at her. Maybe longer than a second.

Her head tilted slightly, almost leaning toward , and I couldn’t help it, I bent down and brushed a soft kiss against her forehead. Just a tiny thing. Barely there. The kind of kiss you give when you’re afraid of wanting more.

She smiled in her sleep.

It hit harder than it should have.

Then she whispered, so quietly I almost doubted myself, "Darlon... can you truly... fall in love with soone like ?"

Everything inside stopped moving. Like my body forgot how to breathe for a mont. Her face was soft, peaceful, unaware of what she had just done to with those few sleepy words.

I touched her cheek, running my thumb along her skin because I wanted to and because she wouldn’t rember. "I already have," I breathed, barely trusting my own voice.

Then I pulled back, closed her door gently, and went around to the other side. For a mont I stood there, hands on the roof of the car, trying to steady the rush in my chest. Then I drove. Fast. Faster than I usually would. I just needed to get her ho.

When we reached the mansion, I didn’t even think about her room. The idea didn’t cross my mind. I went straight to her side, lifted her again, and she lted against like she had done it a thousand tis. She didn’t stir. Not even when I shouldered the door open and carried her inside.

My room felt warr with her in it. Different.

I laid her gently on my bed, smoothing the sheets around her so she wouldn’t feel cold. Her hair had fallen across her face, so I brushed it back, taking my ti without really aning to.

I removed her heels one by one, careful, almost too careful, like the smallest movent might break the mont. Then I sat beside her and reached for the zipper of her dress. I pulled it down slowly, just enough so she could breathe easily, just enough so she would be comfortable.

For a mont, I just stood there, watching her. Her soft breathing. The way she curled slightly. The quiet innocence of sleep.

Then, suddenly... she opened her eyes.

Still drunk.

She looked at , really looked at , then reached up, grabbed my collar, and kissed .

Soft at first. Then deeper.

I lost myself for a mont, responding, pulling her closer, feeling her lt into .

But then I stopped. I had to.

"Elara..." I whispered against her forehead, "not tonight. You’re not sober."

She blinked slowly, confused.

I kissed her temple. "Sleep."

I removed my jacket, loosened my shirt, changed quietly, then slipped into bed beside her. I pulled the duvet over us both.

She shifted closer on instinct, placing her head on my chest.

My heart... didn’t calm for a long, long ti.