Lila’s POV
"Even after a cold shower, I’m still hot," He honestly confessed. His tone was so frank it made want to bite Him. "Putting on clothes just makes it hotter."
I stiffly turned my head just a little, catching a glimpse of His profile, so close, from the corner of my eye. The line of His jaw was tense, and in the dim light, His Adam’s apple bobbed distinctly.
"So you just ca over here naked?!" I kept my voice down, practically roaring. "You call this cooling down?! This is... this is arson!"
He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating down my spine and bringing with it a more intense, tingling itch.
"Lila," He said, His voice laced with amusent yet exceptionally serious, "look, you’re wearing pajamas."
His hand around my waist tightened ever so slightly, a gesture for to notice the thick layer of cotton between us.
"We won’t have any skin-to-skin contact," He said, His voice low and carrying a strange, soothing power. "I just... need a little warmth."
I opened my mouth, wanting to retort, to curse Him for His sophistry, to kick Him out of the bed.
But just then, against my rear, I felt a hard, scorching, and vibrant bulge, clear and impossible to ignore.
It was pressed right there.
Though separated by two layers of cotton, it felt like a red-hot dagger branding itself precisely onto my nerve endings.
"But..." My voice went completely soft, filled with a flustered embarrassnt and bewildernt that bordered on collapse. "But your... down there... it’s still sticking up!"
The mont the words left my mouth, I wanted to bite my own tongue off.
’Too blunt.’
’Too crude.’
’So unlike .’
But that damn, scorching, stubborn "down there"—which completely disobeyed its master’s commands—was just... there, insolently declaring its dominion, its desire, its damn, vigorous life force that no cold water could extinguish.
Behind , I heard an extrely light, helpless sigh.
"Yes." His voice was hoarse, each word seemingly squeezed out from the depths of His chest with great difficulty. "It doesn’t listen to ."
He paused, His gaze falling on the corners of my eyes, which were slightly red from my mortification.
"It’s testing ."
My heart slamd against my ribs, heavy and erratic.
It wasn’t because of sha.
It wasn’t because of anger.
It was because of the... desperate, almost hopeless restraint contained in that single sentence.
He was using every ounce of His willpower to fight the most primitive, most violent beast within Him.
And the reason for His struggle wasn’t for the dignity of the Wolf King, nor for so mission of his bloodline.
It was just for .
For my still-unhealed wounds, for my shaky trust, for the fact that right now, I was still wearing these clumsy, conservative, cotton pajamas.
I looked at Him, at the bottomless exhaustion and tenderness in His eyes, at the fine beads of sweat forming on His temples, at the taut line of His jaw that seed to be enduring imnse pain.
In that mont, all my mortification, all my panic, all my doubt, receded like a silent tide, leaving behind a quiet, soft beach.
I took a slow, deep breath.
Then, I did sothing even I hadn’t expected.
I didn’t push Him away.
I just... relaxed and leaned deeper into His scorching embrace.
My back was completely flush against His bare chest. The heat shot through my entire body like an electric current.
I closed my eyes. My voice was very soft, but exceptionally clear.
"...Then continue the test."
Behind , the hand He had around my waist tightened abruptly.
The force of it carried a sense of preciousness, almost a greedy cherishing, as if recovering sothing lost.
He didn’t speak again.
He just buried His chin deeper into the crook of my neck.
His breathing beca slow and deep, its reassuring rhythm brushing against my skin with each exhale.
Outside the window, the night breeze still blew gently.
Inside the room, all that remained were the sounds of our mingled breaths and the silent, fervent, yet firmly caged-by-reason... life pulsing from that scorching body.
————
I woke up in a strange warmth, feeling completely enveloped.
His breath was on the side of my neck—warm, deep, and rising and falling with the steady rhythm of the tide. My back was pressed tightly against His bare chest. The heat was no longer scorching, but had beco a reassuring, constant warmth that soothed every one of my weary nerves.
I shifted slightly, wanting to turn over.
He noticed at once. The arm He had around my waist tightened, like a silent chain, gentle yet inescapable. His chin nuzzled against my shoulder, and He let out an extrely soft, contented sigh.
Then, He lifted His head.
No words were spoken.
He simply lowered His head, gently brushing the shell of my ear with the tip of His nose, then tracing a path up along my jawline, finally landing on the cool corner of my lips.
It was a kiss.
Very light, very shallow, like a feather brushing across the surface of water. It left only a barely-there touch and the clean scent of cedar mixed with morning dew. It wasn’t deep, not demanding, just a declaration—announcing the end of the night and the beginning of the morning.
I kept my eyes closed, not pulling away.
But as He pulled away, my eyelashes fluttered like a newly awakened butterfly.
"Good morning, Lila." His voice was still low and hoarse from sleep.
I didn’t open my eyes, just let out a vague syllable from my throat in response.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating down my spine and bringing with it a faint, tingling itch. He released the arm around and pushed Himself up. In the dim light, His naked body looked like a sculpture with cold, hard lines. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to my forehead, this one lighter and briefer than the last.
"I have to go." There was a hint of imperceptible apology in His voice. "There’s a new lead over at Black Water Town. I have to go there myself."
I finally opened my eyes and looked at Him.
He was standing by the bed, looking down at . There wasn’t a trace of haste in His eyes, only a settled, almost tender focus.
"Zoe will co stay with you," He continued. "She’s received the latest surveillance report on your uncle’s family and will tell you the details."
I nodded, not saying a word.
He leaned down and gently brushed the corner of my eye with the pad of His finger, where a bit of moisture had gathered without realizing.
"Don’t worry," He said in a low voice. "Everything is under control."
He didn’t say "I’ll protect you," nor did He say "You’re safe now." He just said "Everything is under control."
Those four words felt heavier and more real than any promise.
He turned and walked to the closet. The door closed, then opened again. When He ca back out, He was dressed in a sleek, black combat suit that made His figure seem even more tall and straight. He picked up the pocket watch from the nightstand. He didn’t open it, just rubbed His thumb over and over against the two overlapping wolf heads on its cover.
"Wait for to co back," He said.
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