Fated: The Alpha's Unwanted Luna-Chapter 109: The undeniable attraction

After the house was cleared of Angela and the workers who had witnessed and supported Angela’s claims, everything fell silent again, with only the faint humming of the mansion’s air conditioner and house system audible.

Sebastian stared at Viola, who still refused to look at him, and after a few moments, she pushed herself up to her feet. She limped as she turned away to leave, roughly kicking his shoes off her feet and grabbing her broken phone in one swift motion, stunning Sebastian, who nearly got smacked in the face by one of the shoes she had flung without warning.

Just how stubborn was this woman? Sebastian thought, watching her limp away, intending to leave without talking or acknowledging him. He didn’t know what he had done wrong to make her this angry or what exactly had happened here before his arrival, but he was certain he couldn’t allow her to leave his quarters in such a state of fury.

He rose to his feet, where he had been crouching beside her before, and strode after her. He caught her elbow and turned her around, but she yanked her arm back, hissing as if in pain. Sebastian hurriedly loosened his grip, belatedly realizing she most have bruised her elbow, but he didn’t let go.

"We need to treat those bruises. Come with me," Sebastian said gently, but she stubbornly turned away from him, scowling at the wall, her brows furrowed tightly and her lips pressed into a grim line, cheeks flushed rosy. Despite her angry expression, Sebastian couldn’t help but find her unbelievably gorgeous. What was she, an angry little bird?

"Let go of me. I have to return to the city in time to meet with Zoe for my fitting," she remarked flatly. Zoe had been the one calling her before the phone screen broke, and she didn’t need to be told that it must have been about the fitting they had already agreed on.

Furthermore, she didn’t want to stay in his main quarters another second, having just realized something: letting herself become attached to him enough to feel even slight displeasure at the fact he had other women wasn’t good. It would only risk reverting her to her old self, the woman who schemed and manipulated to get attention.

He might have dismissed Angela and punished her just now for Viola’s sake, but he wouldn’t do that if the woman turned out to be another mate. Viola knew that would force her to resort to scheming and cheap tricks to earn his favor and avoid punishment.

Every pack had a punishment system where offenders were subjected to hard labor until they were broken. Viola had endured enough tutoring and discipline for a lifetime already and had no desire to face it again.

She knew that, in order to avoid similar situations with his other women in the future, she would need to keep herself distant and protect herself from becoming a target. If she didn’t give anyone a reason to treat her as a threat, no one would scheme against her. Angela had been a maid; the others were daughters of powerful werewolves whose schemes could have far-reaching consequences, especially someone like Laila.

She had fought for the position of his Luna and wife not because she wanted to possess him, but because she had her own goals, entirely separate from romance. Her responsibility was to produce an heir, and that didn’t require forming any sort of personal relationship with him.

Not to mention, she wasn’t fond of men with too many women around them, especially men who couldn’t control themselves to the point of having a woman among their household staff. She glared at him grudgingly.

"Let go of me," Viola repeated when he refused to release her elbow, where he held her firmly and yet gently. "You are—" she began, but he let out a sigh, moving in front of her, and before she knew it, he bent down and gathered her into his arms, carrying her in a princess-style hold like she weighed nothing at all.

"You are so light, amor. I should feed you more," Sebastian said with a smile, gently rocking her in his arms as though she were made of soft cotton, clearly enjoying the subtle, delightful spark that came with holding her so close.

She gasped in surprise, not expecting him to carry her, let alone dare to rock her like a baby, and immediately began to wiggle, trying to free herself and get down. "Put me down!" she gritted out furiously, her pride more wounded than her body, but Sebastian’s reply remained infuriatingly calm.

"Not a chance. If I put you down, you’ll run straight to the doors and disappear from here before I look at your wounds. Just like I said, I need to check the extent of your injuries, so stop struggling."

Viola struggled even more, wanting him to set her down, but the more she struggled, the tighter he held her. She was fuming with rage but forced herself to relax, knowing he wouldn’t put her down. She gave him a forced smile and said,

"Okay fine, I won’t run away, so can you put me down? My legs are working perfectly, and I can walk."

She reasoned, hoping he would oblige, looking up at his impossibly handsome, perfect jawline. But he looked down at her, returned her fake smile, and murmured huskily,

"No. And don’t argue with me, because it won’t change my mind and won’t make me put you down on your feet, you are clearly limping. Be a very good girl and stay still. You will soon be my wife, and you might want to start getting used to being pampered by me, sweet love."

In spite of herself, heat rose to her cheeks, and she felt the warmth of his words, which only angered her further as it made it clear she had no control over herself and reaction when it came to him. She decided not to speak and simply snorted, looking away to stare at the white walls.

He let out a thick, amused laugh that trickled through her chest in a way that made her heart flutter, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek until she drew blood, warning herself to minimize how much she let herself react to him.

After all, she was human, a woman like everyone else out there who couldn’t be immune to such shameless, flirtatious endearments, even though they were not spoken in terms of anything intimate.

Sebastian, on the other hand, shook his head, biting down on his lips to suppress more of his laughter at the realization that she was throwing a silent tantrum. He hated when women sulked in an attempt to make him appease them; he lost interest immediately and wanted to avoid such women, which was why he had been looking for a Luna who wouldn’t pull that on him.

In fact, he had made it known to many of his mates he had encountered that he didn’t like women who sulk and that they should act mature. It had always been irritating, so why was he finding this one cute and completely captivating? And why, on earth, was he already thinking about ways to appease her before she would leave his quarters in such a terrible mood?

Sebastian bent down, still carrying her in his arms, and retrieved the shoes she had flung away before beginning to climb the stairs to take her back to his room. Wanting to make her talk, he said,

"If you like the shoes you wore around the house, you can take them back with you."

Actually, he liked that she had worn them all this time; he wanted her to keep them, as the idea alone was strangely satisfying to him. If watching her walk around his house in his shoes made him feel this good, he found himself wondering what it would feel like to see her wearing his shirt instead. Especially if she wore it without a bra, the fabric clinging to the curves of her body and outlining the pointed nipples he had already seen and had his mouth on before.

That dangerous train of thought was enough to stir heat through his veins, turning him on far more quickly than anything else before, and he had to mentally rein himself in before his imagination ran any further.

But she burst his bubble by saying,

"I don’t want your damn shoes. All I want is to be put down, right now."

Sebastian’s expression soured again, and he told her,

"As you wish,"

and began to drop her, not gently put her down, but drop, forcing Viola, who had crossed her arms over her chest just so she wouldn’t touch him, to gasp and quickly wrap her arms around his neck to avoid falling.

Sebastian chuckled as he felt her arms wound around his neck, her face coming close to his, her warm breath fanning his skin and sending goosebumps up the back of his neck.

"Much better. I like it when you hold me, and if you remove your arms from my neck, I will indeed drop you. We are so high on the stairs that if you fall this time, you will break your bones, love. So hold on tight," he teased, his voice laced with open amusement.

Viola could only grit her teeth and hold on, not trusting that he was merely joking and that he wouldn’t actually drop her if she dared to let go. To be safe, she kept her arms firmly wrapped around his veiny, corded neck and rested her head against his shoulder, since he was holding her so high in his arms that it was the only comfortable position she could manage.

He didn’t even know how to carry a woman properly, Viola thought, glaring at the tattooed column of his neck as if it had personally offended her, when she felt a small thread of satisfaction inside her at the thought that he didn’t know how to carry a woman because he probably didn’t do it often.

"You are so annoying and infuriating," she muttered, though in spite of herself, she was secretly enjoying being carried, especially since her hip was still throbbing from her dramatic fall down the stairs.

"And you are very stubborn, just like a donkey," he replied without missing a beat.

Viola frowned at being called a donkey, wanting to glare at him properly, but she decided not to reply at all. She didn’t have the energy to exchange more words. Instead, she inhaled deeply, only to be invaded by his intoxicating, strangely soothing scent that filled her lungs with every breath. It seemed to wrap around her senses and settle somewhere inside her.

Did he really have to smell this good all the time?