Chapter 393: Alpha’s Sneaky Visit (II)
Draven:
The sound of Lioren shifting in his crib made both of us glance over. We waited until he settled again, his tiny sigh filling the silence.
I slipped my arms around her waist from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. She leaned back against me, her fingers tracing idle patterns over my forearm.
For a long time, we just stood there - no words, no rush. Just the quiet rhythm of two hearts beating in the same space.
"You know," she murmured after a while, "you are reckless."
"I have been told," I whispered against her hair. "But only when it comes to you."
She turned slightly to look at me, eyes shining under the dim light. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Keep me," I said simply.
Her lips curved again, and though she tried to hide it, I saw the affection in her eyes - the kind that melted the edges of every storm inside me.
I tilted her face toward mine again, brushing a kiss to her temple. "You don’t have to say anything," I whispered. "Just let me stay tonight. I won’t cause trouble. I promise."
She hesitated, then finally nodded, the smallest of gestures, but enough.
I smiled against her hair, relief flooding through me. "Thank you."
We didn’t need words after that.
I guided her toward the bed, keeping our voices low, our movements soft so we wouldn’t wake the baby. We lay side by side, her head resting against my chest, our fingers intertwined.
Her warmth soaked through the thin fabric of my shirt, and the steady rhythm of her breathing seemed to slow everything inside me. For a moment, I thought that would be enough... just to have her this close, her heartbeat against mine.
But it wasn’t.
Not tonight.
There was a pull between us that had nothing to do with choice. It hummed like quiet thunder under my skin, urging me closer until the distance between us became unbearable.
She shifted slightly, her hand sliding from my chest to rest at my side. The faint brush of her fingers against my ribs made me draw a slow breath. She must have felt the way my muscles tensed, because her head tilted up, eyes meeting mine in the faint glow that slipped through the curtains.
"Draven..." she whispered, almost like a warning.
The sound of my name on her lips broke every line I had drawn for myself tonight. I traced my thumb along her jaw, tilting her face upward. "I know," I murmured. "But I can’t help it."
Her lips parted, as though she wanted to protest, but no words came. The air between us grew heavy... so heavy that even the smallest motion carried meaning. I brushed a kiss at the corner of her mouth, light enough that it barely counted as one, just enough to feel her breath hitch.
She didn’t move away.
That was all it took.
I kissed her again, slower this time, deep enough that my pulse tripped and the world blurred out of focus. Every thought faded except for her - her taste, her scent, the small sound she made when my hand came to rest at the curve of her back.
I didn’t rush her. I couldn’t. There was something sacred in how she responded - the way her fingers tightened slightly against my shirt, the faint tremor in her breath. It wasn’t wild... it was tender and deliberate, like a promise being rewritten through touch.
When I finally pulled back, her lashes fluttered open. Her eyes caught the light - soft, questioning, shining with something that made my chest ache.
"Still think I’m reckless?" I asked quietly, brushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ear.
Her lips curved. "More than ever."
I smiled, letting my forehead rest against hers. "Then I’ll have to prove I’m worth the trouble."
Her laugh was quiet but it melted straight into my heartbeat. I trailed my fingers down the side of her neck, feeling her shiver under the movement. The air between us seemed to hum again, that invisible thread tightening.
"Draven..." she said again, but this time it wasn’t a warning. It was my name spoken like a secret, like a word she didn’t want to end.
My voice dropped lower. "You have no idea what that does to me."
Her pulse fluttered under my fingertips. She closed her eyes, and I took in every detail - the curve of her lashes, the faint flush rising to her cheeks, the way her hand found mine and held it as if anchoring herself.
The moment stretched.
I pressed my lips to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her mouth again. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, reverent. I wanted to memorize her like this - the quiet of the room, the soft sound of her breathing, the peace that came from knowing she trusted me enough to let the world outside disappear.
Her fingers lifted to trace my face... slowly, carefully... as though she was learning me all over again. When her thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, I caught her hand, turning it over to press a kiss into her palm.
"Do you feel it?" I asked softly.
"What?" she whispered.
"This," I said, guiding her hand to my chest. "What you do to me without even trying."
Her eyes met mine again, and the look there - so full of affection and disbelief and something deeper - made me lose my breath.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then she leaned up, closing the space between us once more. The kiss that followed wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, consuming, and impossibly gentle.
Her hand found its way to the back of my neck, her fingers threading through my hair. I deepened the kiss slightly, just enough to make her sigh into my mouth, the sound so soft it felt like a heartbeat.
When we broke apart, she stayed close, her forehead against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the still air.
"Reckless," she whispered again, her tone somewhere between fondness and surrender.
"Only for you," I breathed. "Always for you."
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, and somewhere in the corner, Lioren gave a small sleepy sigh before settling again. The quiet wrapped around us, gentle and protective.
I drew the blanket over her shoulders and pulled her closer until she rested perfectly against me, fitting as though she had always belonged there.
Her hand found mine beneath the sheets, fingers curling around my own. Slowly, her breathing evened out.
I lay awake a while longer, listening to the rhythm of her sleep, the soft, perfect sound of our son nearby, and the faint echo of her last whispered word still tangled in my head.
Reckless.
Maybe she was right.
But if recklessness meant this - me holding everything I had ever wanted in my arms - then I would gladly be reckless for the rest of my life.