Chapter 102
Christian’s wolf had spent the entire drive snarling at his own recklessness, clawing at his ribs in a desperate bid for control.
He had sworn to stay away. Again. Again, he had commanded Fleur to finalize the estate’s layouts on her own. Yet, her sudden, heavy silence over the last few days had driven his soul into a frantic state of restlessness, dragging him right back to the threshold of his newly acquired manor.
He stepped across the threshold, met by an eerie, echoing silence. The construction crew was already gone. The grand halls were empty, his heavy boots clicking sharply against the polished stone floors.
Letting his senses expand, he tracked her scent—sweet, intoxicating vanilla and fresh rain—straight up the winding staircase and directly to the master suite, the bedroom meant to be their shared sanctuary. He pushed the heavy oak door open to find Fleur engrossed in her work, a leather-bound sketchbook in her lap as her pen flew across the page.
At the sound of the hinges, Fleur snapped her head up. Her bright eyes flared, sparkling with a mixture of shock and sudden warmth.
"Christian? Why are you... You... you actually came?" she breathed, her pulse visibly spiking at the base of her throat.
The sight of his mate hit him like a physical blow. A whole week of self-imposed starvation, and here she was—soft, brilliant, and radiating a scent that begged his wolf to claim her on the spot.
His beast roared in approval, demanding he cross the room and bury his face in the curve of her neck; crush his lips over hers, taste her, replenish that painful absence once more.
Christian forced his hands into his pockets, locking his jaw to keep his breathing even. He cleared his throat, pushing his rampaging aura down behind a mask of cold indifference.
Once again, it caused him nothing but agony.
"I’m a busy man. Tell me why you summoned me, Miss Swann," he drawled, his husky voice vibrating through the quiet room, sending a visible shiver down her spine.
"Right," Fleur swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure under his intense, predatory gaze.
God, how was it fair for a male to be this devastatingly handsome and still be such a heartbreaker? She shook her head slightly, forcing a professional tone once more.
"The interior security boundaries and master layouts are complete. I need the Alpha’s final sign-off to ensure the layout meets pack defensive standards. If there is anything you want to change or add, please tell me now as this is our last chance to make improvements."
It was a thin excuse, and she knew it. She had designed this pretense solely to drag him out of his shell, desperate to break through the icy wall he had built between them.
Christian offered a dismissive scowl, flicking his wrist to glance at his platinum watch. "My time is occupied with far more pressing matters, Miss Swann. I told you to coordinate these trivial matters with my Beta or professional assistant. Do not waste my time again."
He kept his gaze sharp, but the moment he saw her eyes pool with sudden, glassy tears, his wolf whimpered in agony. He could survive a silver bullet to the chest, but the sight of his mate’s tears was a lethal blow. Fearing his own resolve would snap and he’d end up on his knees begging for her forgiveness, Christian turned on his heel.
He practically fled the room, his long strides taking him down the stairs. It was dangerous to be alone with her in a house designed for their mating, where every primal instinct screamed at him to throw her over the nearest surface, claim her completely, and mark her skin until she screamed his name. He reached the grand double doors of the foyer, grabbing the heavy brass handle and pulled.
It didn’t budge. He wrenched it with his wolfish strength, but the electronic lock remained dead.
"What the hell is this?" he growled.
He spun around, a menacing vibration rumbling in his chest. Fleur was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, her arms crossed over her chest, staring him down with absolute, breathtaking defiance.
"Are you going to tell me why my doors are locked?" Christian demanded, his voice dropping into a low, threatening frequency that usually sent lesser wolves running.
But Fleur didn’t even flinch. Her courage never ceased to fascinate his beast.
"The doors won’t open until I decide they do," she replied calmly. She raised her phone, displaying the estate’s smart-home security interface. She had rewritten the master passcode via the app.
"I am not in the mood for games, Fleur," Christian warned, taking a slow, heavy step toward her.
"Neither am I, Christian."
"What do you want?" he demanded, his chest heaving as her sweet scent invaded his senses.
"I want the truth," she said, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "I want to know why you’re treating me like an enemy. Why are you avoiding me?"
"I am not avoiding you," Christian lied, his eyes darting away because he couldn’t look her in the eye and keep the falsehood alive.
"Liar!" Fleur stepped closer, her chest heaving. "You won’t answer my calls. You ignore my texts. Your scent is entirely blocked whenever you’re near me. Why are you being so cold?"
"This is who I am," Christian snapped, his gaze hardening as he forced his wolf down. "I am an Alpha King. I do not change my nature for anyone."
It was the biggest lie he had ever told. He would have torn his own soul apart and rebuilt it if it meant keeping her happy and safe. But the target on his back was too large, and he had to keep his distance to ensure her survival.
Fleur, however, wasn’t a submissive wolf to be ordered around. She narrowed her eyes, her thumb hovering over the lock icon on her screen. "Then I guess the Alpha King is sleeping here tonight. Because the door stays locked."