Fated: The Alpha's Unwanted Luna-Chapter 99: Warmth

Sebastian noticed her shiver as though she were cold, and his sharp eyes immediately focused on the goosebumps rising along her arms. His gaze shifted toward the air conditioner, which was blasting at full power, as he was known to prefer cold temperatures and could only sleep when the room was blazingly freezing, like the coldest winter night.

She should have turned it down, he thought, looking back at her. Or at the very least, she should have lain down beside him on the king-sized bed and pulled the blanket over herself. Instead, she had chosen to lie on the bare floor without any bedding or blanket at all. How could she have been comfortable enough in such a position to fall asleep so deeply?

Sebastian shook his head, and without hesitation, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her off the floor as though she weighed nothing. She indeed felt far too light, lighter than anyone he had ever carried before. Had she lost weight? he wondered, recalling that she had not felt this light the last time he had held her in his arms.

She was so light that he felt he could easily hold her with only one arm if he truly wished to. He looked down at her face, his brows knitting together slightly as he realized that his instinct to feed his mate was stirring awake inside him, the powerful instinct to provide for her and make certain she never went hungry, to ensure she had more than she could ever imagine. This time, he did not fight it, because he genuinely believed she needed to eat more so she could gain a bit more flesh on her fragile frame.

If she did not start eating properly, she would soon disappear with the wind.

His lips fell into a straight, displeased line as he calculated that she must have been lying here since yesterday afternoon, and now it was 2:08 a.m. which meant she had skipped dinner entirely. The last time they had eaten together was at 11:55 a.m. the previous day, which meant she had likely skipped lunch as well. No wonder she felt as light as a feather in his arms.

That did not sit well with him at all. The male was supposed to ensure that his woman never went hungry at any hour of the day. It was a primal instinct carved into every male werewolf, something deeply embedded in their nature since the beginning of time, when their kind had lived in the wild like animals long before they turned to civilization. The female had always relied on her male, and all she had to do was take care of their pups while he hunted for food and protected their territory.

That was how the Moon Goddess had made them, how she had designed them to live, no matter how much time had passed since their kind had roamed the forests in their most ancient forms.

Sebastian made a mental note to ensure she was properly fed tomorrow before she left this place. Perhaps he should cook the meal for her himself. It had been a while since he had cooked anything personally, and cooking for her did not seem like such a bad idea at all. In fact, the thought felt strangely satisfying.

He carefully began to lay her down on his bed, moving with the caution of a parent trying not to wake a baby they had struggled to put to sleep, wanting her to be more comfortable and warm. But just as he began to pull back after placing her gently onto the mattress, he paused. His eyes dropped to her fingers, which had instinctively grabbed the front of his white shirt, preventing him from moving away.

Sebastian’s expression softened slightly in quiet amusement.

"It seems this will become our habit, love. You always grab onto me whenever I carry you. If you continue like this, I will not have many shirts left in my closet," he murmured softly, teasing her even though he knew very well he could never run out of shirts given his position and wealth.

He spoke as if she could hear him, though he was fully aware she was lost in dreamland. However, he soon noticed her forehead crease as though she were being disturbed in her sleep when he tried to gently pry her fingers away from his shirt, so he immediately stopped.

Viola, on the other hand, was sleeping peacefully at first, caught in a strange and senseless dream of lying inside a freezer. Because it was not particularly frightening at the beginning, she continued sleeping through it.

But slowly, the dream shifted into one of her nightmares. This time, within that freezing atmosphere, she felt utterly lonely and unbearably cold as she watched Evan standing above her frozen body with a smirk on his face, Leni standing right beside him and clinging possessively to his side.

She tried to reach out to him, hoping he would hold her and take her away from the biting cold that was sinking into her skin, but he cruelly kicked her hand away and spat at her.

"Get you dirty hands off me, bitch. You disgust me!"

Viola’s heart felt as though it were breaking all over again. Even though she had told herself that she had overcome Evan’s betrayal and heartbreak, somewhere deep inside her, something still clung to him, because he had been the first man she had ever truly wanted, truly desired, to have and to love.

But that same man was now mocking her. Despite being aware that this was a dream, one she hated having, yet one that never loosened its grip on her because she had never truly found peace with it, she still felt the crushing pain gripping her chest.

Just as Evan took Leni’s hand and turned away from her, leaving her there to freeze to death in that endless cold, another figure suddenly appeared, standing exactly where he had been.

She could not see this person’s face clearly; everything was hazy, like when she was not wearing her glasses. Yet something about his presence instantly gave her a strange sense of reassurance. Why, she could not explain.

Unlike Evan, this unknown figure bent down toward her and pulled her into a warm, comforting embrace that immediately made her feel safe, as though she had been wrapped inside a protective cocoon of warmth. She felt a gentle vibration against the person’s chest where her head rested, as if he were speaking to her, but she could not hear his voice or make out a single word he said.

When he began to pull away from her, she grabbed onto him, unwilling to allow the only source of warmth in her freezing world to escape her. He was so warm, so solid and real, that she did not want him to leave her alone in the cold again.

"I am cold..." she whispered softly.

The words escaped her lips in her sleep, yet they were audible in the quiet room. Sebastian, who had been watching her closely, smiled faintly as he gently began to pat her back the way one would soothe a restless child trying to return to sleep.

"Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Go back to sleep," he murmured softly, his hand stroking slowly from her back down to her arm in a calming motion until she gradually relaxed again. A deep sigh escaped her lips, and she curled onto her side with her face turned toward him.

Her position, however, unintentionally became provocative, pressing her breasts together and causing them to swell slightly above the neckline of her off-shoulder dress. The sight made him suddenly aware of himself, and he felt an unmistakable tightening inside his pants, the front of them growing noticeably snug.

She always managed to make him feel like an uncontrollable teenage boy who had only just discovered his own desires, even though he had long ago learned how to control himself around his mates.

"You are going to be the death of me," he muttered under his breath.

Her grip on his shirt gradually loosened, and Sebastian carefully uncurled her fingers, holding her hand in his for a brief moment. His eyes lowered as he noticed she wore no nail polish, and her cuticles were bruised and slightly rough, yet he still found her hand unexpectedly beautiful in its simplicity.

Was he allowing this mate bond to influence him far more than he should?

She was clearly not his usual type at all, yet he was beginning to realize that he was slowly growing fond of her in ways he had not anticipated. Then he reminded himself that it had nothing to do with preference or type. She would become his Luna, and it was only right that he made peace with her on some level.

She might not be his destined, prophesied mate, the one foretold for him, and he would still have to find that particular woman someday. But the fact that Viola would be his wife was reason enough to let himself soften toward her.

As much as he wanted to slip into the bed and lie beside her to keep her warm, he refrained. He did not want her to call him out for it again and distance herself from him even further. Or worse, get angry and punch him in her frustration.

With that thought lingering in his mind, Sebastian straightened up and gently removed her heels. Then he carefully pulled the blanket up to her chin, tucking her in securely to keep her warm, making sure she was comfortable before stepping back.