The Howlcrest Werewolves Legacy-Chapter 30: She knows him, she’s not trusting!

"What—" Her voice cracked, high and sharp. "WHAT are you doing?!"

Fabian froze, caught red-handed. For a heartbeat, silence hung — thick, taut. Then his mouth curved into that damnable grin, slow and wolfish.

"Good morning, the sun’s up."

"Don’t you dare—!" Daisy shot to her feet, clutching the blanket around herself like armor, cheeks flaming. "You—were—" Her voice strangled into disbelief. "You were staring at my legs!"

Fabian arched a brow, entirely unrepentant. "I thought they were your face."

Her jaw dropped. "My—my face?!"

"Yes." He leaned lazily against the arm of the couch, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His crimson eyes glittered with mischief. "Imagine my surprise when instead of a sleeping face, I found..." His gaze deliberately flicked downward, a slow, shameless drag that made her clutch the blanket tighter. "...legs."

Daisy made a sound halfway between a gasp and a growl. "You perverted—!"

"Accidental," he cut in smoothly. "Though," he added, his lips curling, "hardly disappointing."

Her mouth fell open. Hardly disappointing? Heat flared in her cheeks, hotter than the fire in the hearth. "You arrogant, entitled wolf!"

Fabian tilted his head, utterly unfazed by her fury. "Entitled, yes. Wolf, definitely. Arrogant..." He gave a thoughtful hum. "Only when I’m right."

"You—!" Daisy stomped a step closer, jabbing a finger at his chest before yanking her hand back like she’d touched fire. "You think you can just save me... just haul me out of the woods, dump me in your lair, peek under blankets—"

"Lair?" Fabian’s grin widened, flashing a hint of fang. "I prefer ’wing of the stronghold,’ but lair has a nice ring."

"This isn’t funny!" she snapped, though her voice trembled with the edges of disbelief. "Do you—do you make a habit of saving women in the night and ogling their—" She cut herself off, biting down hard on the words.

Fabian leaned in, just enough to drop his voice low, intimate, dangerous. "Only the ones the Moon Goddess sends me."

Daisy froze. Her breath caught.

For a second, the air shifted — heavier, hotter. His eyes gleamed red, not with mockery this time but something deeper, primal, possessive.

And she hated the way her pulse fluttered.

She tore her gaze away, fumbling for sarcasm like a shield. "Well, the Moon Goddess has poor taste, then."

Fabian’s laugh was a low rumble, genuine and amused. He straightened, watching her with open appreciation. "You have a sharp tongue. I was wondering the kind of person you are."

She glared. "Keep provoking me and I’ll show you more than that."

"Oh?" He stepped closer, closing the space between them. Her back hit the edge of the couch before she realized she was retreating. His voice dipped to a velvet murmur. "Promises like that sound dangerous, little storm."

Daisy’s throat tightened. Her heart thudded, traitorous, and she hated the way heat coiled low in her belly under his gaze. She yanked the blanket tighter around herself, lifting her chin defiantly.

"I don’t trust you." Her words cut sharp, even though her voice trembled. "You’re dangerous. You have anger issues I hear. Look, I’m grateful you helped me last night but I have to go back."

Fabian’s grin softened into something more dangerous. "You trusted me last night, alright." His gaze raked over her, slow, deliberate. "This bad boy."

Her jaw clenched. Her stomach flipped. She swallowed hard, forcing steel into her voice. "You didn’t scare me last night."

"You should have." His answer was a growl, soft but lethal.

For a long, charged moment, neither moved. The fire popped in the hearth, casting shadows across the room. Daisy’s breath came quicker, Fabian’s chest rose heavier, and the air between them burned.

Then Daisy scoffed, breaking the spell. "Do you practice these lines in the mirror? Or do they just fall out of that arrogant mouth of yours?"

Fabian blinked — then burst out laughing, the sound rich and unrestrained. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, shaking his head. "Oh, I like you."

"I don’t like you," Daisy snapped.

"You will," he said easily. "Eventually."

"Over my dead body?" she whispered unsure, she has never thought about being with the higher species.

"Careful," Fabian murmured, leaning close enough that his breath brushed her ear. "I just killed seven men last night over your body."

Her stomach swooped. Her pulse thundered. She shoved him back with a glare that hid the panic rising inside her. "Stay away from me, Alpha Fabian."

"You know me," Fabian blinked.

But as she turned, clutching the blanket like a shield, Fabian only smirked wider.

Because for all her sharp words, all her defiance, her scent told him the truth.

She was shaken. Tempted. Curious.

And she was his but she didn’t know that yet.

Fabian set the folded garments neatly on the bedside table, his movements efficient, his voice clipped.

"Here. I brought clothes for you. Put them on."

Daisy blinked at the bundle. "Clothes?"

"A blouse and trousers. Practical. Comfortable." His eyes flicked over her torn, dirt-streaked dress, then hardened. "Better than what you’re in now."

Her brows drew together. "And what, after I dress up, I’m supposed to—what? Parade down the hall?"

He didn’t flinch. "Step out. Breakfast is waiting."

Daisy crossed her arms over her chest. "Step out for breakfast? I think I should probably leave instead."

"No." The word cracked like a whip. His gaze sharpened, glowing faintly with the wolf beneath. "You’re not leaving. It’s not safe."

"You don’t even know me."

"I don’t need to," he growled, the sound low, final. "I know danger. And I know you won’t survive another night out there." He exhaled through his nose, forcing his tone into something closer to patience. "Don’t argue with me. Get dressed. Come downstairs. Don’t keep everyone waiting."

Her lips parted, a retort balanced on her tongue, but he was already at the door. He didn’t look back when he left—just closed it firmly behind him, leaving her with silence and the pile of neatly folded clothes.

Daisy sighed, the sound long and heavy. She dragged her hand down her face, staring at the garments as if they might bite.

Daisy stood in the middle of the unfamiliar room, Fabian’s footsteps still echoing faintly down the hall after his commanding departure. Her heart thudded against her ribs as if he’d left an invisible weight pressed on her chest.

"Get dressed and come down," she muttered under her breath, mimicking his deep baritone. "Don’t keep everyone waiting."