Ruthless Alpha, and his Curvy Saint-Chapter 23

Angel’s POV

We walked back to the camp in silence, our hands still clasped together. The warmth of his palm against mine was both comforting and unsettling, making my heart do strange, fluttery things. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

When we reached the tent, Uriel released my hand slowly, as if reluctant to let go. The loss of contact left my skin feeling cold.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his intense eyes searching my face with genuine concern.

"Yes," I whispered, though I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

I glanced around the camp, noticing for the first time that I was the only one with a tent to myself.

"Why am I the only one with a tent?" I asked, guilt creeping into my voice.

Uriel followed my gaze, then smiled slightly. "The priestess insisted on it. She said after everything you’ve been through, you deserved at least this small comfort."

The priestess. The woman who had come into the church and delivered that disastrous announcement that destroyed my life.

"But everyone else..."

"Everyone else is a warrior, trained to sleep anywhere," Uriel interrupted gently. "You’re not. And you’re injured. You need the rest more than we do."

I wanted to argue, but exhaustion was pulling at me like weights tied to my limbs.

"Alright," I conceded quietly.

Uriel nodded, taking a step back. "Get some sleep, Angel. Morning will come quickly."

He turned to leave, and I felt panic surge in my chest.

He was leaving. Walking away. And I’d be alone again, trapped in the dark with my thoughts and memories and grief.

"Wait!" The word burst out before I could stop it.

He turned back, eyebrows raised in question.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. What was I doing? What was I thinking?

"If... if you’re not comfortable outside..." The words tumbled out in a rush, barely coherent. "You could... you could join me. In the tent. I mean, there’s enough space, and it’s cold, and..."

The look of surprise on his face stopped me mid-sentence.

His eyes widened. His lips parted slightly. For a moment, he just stared at me like I’d suggested we sprout wings and fly to the moon.

The silence stretched for three horrifying heartbeats.

Then reality crashed down on me like a collapsing building.

Oh God. Oh no. What have I done?

"I... I’m sorry!" I stammered, my face erupting in flames. "I didn’t mean... that was inappropriate... I shouldn’t have..."

I dove for the tent opening, practically throwing myself inside, my hands fumbling with the zipper as I yanked it closed with shaking fingers.

I collapsed onto the bedroll, my hands covering my burning face, mortification washing over me in waves so intense I thought I might actually die from embarrassment.

How could I suggest such a thing?

Not only was it a sin - a terrible, unforgivable sin that would have the nuns crossing themselves and praying for my damned soul - but it could get Uriel killed.

I was supposed to be the Alpha’s mate. Even if that monster didn’t want me because I was fat, I was still technically his by the Moon Goddess’s decree. For another man to share a tent with me, to be alone with me in such an intimate setting...

That would be treason. At worst, a death sentence. At best, severe punishment.

And I’d just casually offered it like I was inviting someone for tea.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing sleep to come, willing morning to arrive so I could apologize properly and explain that I wasn’t some wanton prostitute trying to seduce him.

I was just lonely. And scared. And he’d been so kind that I’d forgotten myself completely.

Uriel probably thought I was disgusting now. Thought I was trying to use my body to manipulate him, like the women in Hawkins’ castle who’d learned to trade favors for scraps of mercy.

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Instead, I curled into a ball under the thin blanket, my face still burning with shame, and prayed for unconsciousness to claim me quickly.

******

The sound of voices and movement dragged me from uneasy sleep.

I lay still for a moment, disoriented, before memory came flooding back. The escape attempt. Uriel. My mortifying invitation.

Oh God.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what awaited outside.

Face it with dignity.

I opened the tent flap. The camp was alive with activity. Warriors moved about, packing supplies, checking weapons, preparing horses for travel.

The smell of bread wafted through the air, making my empty stomach clench with hunger.

I looked around, a fire had been rebuilt, and someone was passing around bread for breakfast.

And there, by the corner, stood the devil himself.

The monster. The Alpha. The scarred beast who’d taken my knife strikes without flinching.

He was discussing something with a group of warriors, his massive frame dominating the space around him. Even from this distance, I could feel the aura of power radiating from him, making my skin prickle with instinctive fear.

What would he do to me for those stab wounds? Would he retaliate? Punish me? Kill me?

Then I spotted Uriel among the group of warriors.

He stood slightly apart from the others, his posture relaxed. He said something that made the group laugh - annoying, masculine sounds that grated against my ears.

He didn’t belong there. Not with them. Not with their casual cruelty and violence.

Uriel was different. Better. He’d shown me kindness when everyone else had shown me only pain.

I watched him for a moment longer, my traitorous heart doing that strange flutter thing again, before forcing myself to look away.

I needed to wash. Desperately.

The monster’s blood had dried on my skin, crusty and foul-smelling. My hair was matted with it. My dress - what remained of it - was stiff with dried gore.

I looked around the camp, searching for any sign of water. A stream. A river. Anything.

Movement caught my eye - the priestess, leading a horse past the edge of camp. Her hair was damp, water droplets glistening on the dark strands.

She’d obviously just bathed.

I hurried over before I could lose my nerve. "Excuse me?"

The priestess turned, her knowing eyes fixing on me with that same unsettling intensity from that morning of doom. Now that I wasn’t blinded by grief ot pain, I noticed she looked beautiful, but in a severe otherworldly way. Ageless. Powerful.

"Where can I wash?" I asked, suddenly feeling small and foolish under her gaze.

She studied me for a long moment, and I had the distinct impression she was seeing far more than just a dirty girl in rags.

"I’ll take you," she said finally.

She tied her horse to a nearby tree and moved to take my arm.

"I’ll take her."

We both turned.