Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most-Chapter 87: Finally... I Win...

The silence of the street is a living thing, wrapped in the soft, steady hush of falling snow. Under the shared shelter of the umbrella, the world narrows to the space where our shoulders almost touch.

I watch our feet move in tandem, leaving twin sets of prints in the pristine white.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

His voice, when it comes, is as soft as the snow settling around us.

"Where’s your driver?"

I look up, feigning confusion.

Then —

A perfect, wicked idea blooms. I let it shape my face into smooth, innocent lines.

"He texted me," I lie, the words flowing with practiced ease.

"He’s stuck somewhere because of the snow. Can’t come."

Deniz’s eyes stay on me, searching. Trying to find the crack in the performance.

"Is that so?"

I nod, the picture of helplessness. "Yes. Now... I don’t know where to go."

I look away, letting a carefully calculated note of forlorn worry color my voice. A thrill of excitement blooms in my chest. I slide my hand, aiming to intertwine our fingers.

"Maybe I should stay at my friend’s pla—"

Before I can finish, before my seeking hand can even brush his free one, his steps halt.

"Yes."

I stop dead. Look at him, my eyes wide with shock that isn’t entirely fake. A brilliant, hopeful smile breaks across my lips.

"Really? I can stay at your place?"

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls his phone from his jacket. My eyes track the movement, my heart sinking before he even speaks.

"I’ll quickly book a cab for you," he says, his fingers already tapping the screen.

The words are a bucket of ice water thrown over my clever, hopeful little plan.

I stare, watching it shatter on the cold street between us.

"No!" The protest is too quick, too sharp. I grab his wrist.

"The roads are blocked. Because of the snow."

He looks at me, a faint, knowing skepticism in his dark eyes.

"I don’t think—"

"They’re blocked," I insist, my expression shifting into one of petulant fury.

I can’t lose this chance.

He looks down, thinking.

"Then... I know a five-star hotel nearby. I’ll check for rooms."

No. No, no, no.

Before he can type another word, I snatch the phone right out of his hand.

"Zyren!" His eyes widen in genuine shock.

"What are you doing?"

I clutch the phone to my chest, turning away from him stubbornly.

"I don’t want to stay at a hotel."

It sounds childish even to my own ears. I don’t care.

"Give it back." He steps forward, hand outstretched.

I step back, right out from under the umbrella’s shelter. The snow immediately dusts my hair and shoulders. I cross my arms, the phone safely tucked against me.

"I want to stay at your place."

"You can’t." His voice is firm, edged with exasperation.

He steps forward again.

I step back again.

"Why can’t I? I want to!"

I sound like a toddler denied a toy. The great Zyren Kael, brought to this.

"Zyren, don’t—give me back my phone." Another step.

Another retreat.

"No... no... no!"

He stops. Looks at me—a man holding an umbrella in a snowstorm, being defied by a pouting Alpha clutching a phone and a rose.

He sighs, a long, defeated sound that melts into the cold air.

"Fine. First, give me my phone back."

A bright, triumphant smile lights up my face.

"Good!"

I step forward, back into the dry circle of our shared space, and place the phone in his waiting palm.

He takes it, his fingers closing around it securely. Then, without missing a beat, he looks down and starts tapping again.

"You’re going to the hotel. I’m booking it now."

My eyes fly wide open. "Deniz! You lied to me!"

I try to snatch the phone back, but he holds it out of reach.

"Zy—no."

"I don’t want to go to a hotel!"

My voice climbs, whining and childish, like a kid refusing school.

"Zyren—"

I lunge for the phone, my fingers brushing his. In the scramble, my foot slips on a hidden patch of ice.

"Ahh—!"

Time slows. I feel the world tilt. Deniz’s eyes widen in horror.

"Zy—!"

He doesn’t grab the phone. He grabs for me.

A solid thud knocks the air from my lungs.

The umbrella clatters to the street, rolling away. Cold seeps instantly through my clothes from the snow beneath me.

But the cold is nothing.

Because Deniz is on top of me.

His full weight presses me into the snow. My heart isn’t beating; it’s trying to escape my ribs.

Our faces are so close I can see every snowflake caught in his dark lashes, feel the warm gust of his shocked breath against my lips.

His cheeks are flushed a deep, beautiful red. The snow falls on us, melting where it touches our heated skin.

He whispers, his voice rough with concern, "Are you okay?"

My own face is burning. I can’t hold his gaze.

I turn my head to the side, my cheek against the cold snow, and mumble into the white, "I don’t want to go to a hotel."

A beat of silence. Then, a sound I wasn’t expecting.

A laugh.

I look back at him. He’s smiling. A real, unreserved smile that makes his eyes crinkle and his glowing cheeks even brighter.

Snow is scattered in his black hair like stars against a night sky.

I stare, utterly captivated, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat.

"What... what are you laughing at?" I ask, my own voice small, shy.

He looks down at me, his laughter softening into a warm, helpless chuckle.

"Fine," he says, the word a gentle surrender. "You win. You can stay at my place."

A bright, unbidden smile breaks across my face, brighter than any streetlamp.

"Can I?"

He’s still smiling, nodding as he pushes himself up on his arms, still caging me. "Yes."

I smile up at him, the snow falling around us like a blessing.

Finally.

I win.