48 Ports
Chapter 85: Protective Possession
Chapter 85: Protective Possession
(Scarlett’s POV)
Roman’s lips were relentless, his hands firm but gentle as they anchored me closer against him. His kiss was
consuming, like he was trying to claim every breath, every ounce of restraint I had left. For a moment, it felt
like time itself had stopped, the world outside us forgotten entirely.
His hand slid into my hair, fingers threading through the strands as he tilted my head slightly, deepening the
kiss. My pulse hammered in my chest. Every nerve in my body was alive, ignited by the intensity of his touch.
When he finally pulled back, his piercing ice–blue eyes locked onto mine. His lips, still so close that could
feel the heat of his breath, curved into the faintest of smirks. “Not avoiding me today, little wolf?” he
murmured, his low voice carrying a teasing edge that sent a shiver down my spine.
I took a slow, steadying breath, willing my thoughts to clear. His proximity made every coherent thought I had scatter like leaves in the wind. “I was never avoiding you.” My voice was calm, though my chest still heaved from losing myself in that kiss. “I just… thought you needed time. Time to think about this. About us.”
His smirk faded, replaced by a look so intense it rooted me to the spot. “Time to think?” he repeated, his
brows furrowing. “Little wolf, you’re the one who hasn’t been thinking. I’ve made my decision long ago.”
“Roman-” I tried, but he cut me off with a firm gaze, his voice soft yet unyielding. “Have you? Have you really?
”
I opened my mouth, then hesitated. His words struck something deep within me. Had I truly allowed myself
to think about what this meant for us? About what it could cost?
“I needed to be sure,” I finally admitted, barely louder than a whisper. “Sure that we’re not just… reacti
this is real. That you won’t regret it.”
hat
His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin. It was a tender, protective gesture, so unlike his usual iron–clad control. “I don’t regret anything about you,” he said simply. His words were steady, certain. “The only thing I’d regret is letting you waste another second doubting this… doubting us.”
His certainty made my chest tighten, a lump forming in my throat. I hadn’t realized how deeply I needed to
hear those words until he said them.
I swallowed hard, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. “When are we leaving?” I asked, my voice
trembling slightly.
Confusion flickered across his face. “Leaving?”
“For the Eastern territories,” I clarified. “When are we going back? I don’t know how much longer I can stand being here… in this mess.”
At that, his expression darkened just stly, a shadow of thoughtfulness crossing his features. “There are still things that need handling here,” he admitted reluctantly. “Loose ends I need tied. But after… A small, rare smile ghosted over his lips. “After, I’m taking you home.”
His mention of “loose ends” made my heart sink slightly, though I tried not to show it. I knew exactly what he meant. Grace, Sarah, Alexander–the tangled web of deceit and manipulation we’d been forced into. None of
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it could be ignored.
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I let out a weary sigh, resting my head gently against his chest. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” I confessed, my voice barely audible. “The scheming, the lies, the endless games they play. It’s
exhausting.”
His arms tightened around me slightly, a silent reassurance. “You don’t have to deal with any of it,” he said firmly. “That’s my job. And Hunter’s.”
I lifted my head to meet his gaze, determination flashing in my green eyes. “What kind of mate would I be if I let you and Hunter carry it all? I can fight my own battles, Roman.”
His sharp features softened, and he leaned closer until our foreheads touched. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore,” he whispered. “Let me fight for you, little wolf. Just this once.”
The following days were a blur of work and tension. At the treatment center, I threw myself into patient care, the structured routine a welcome distraction. Yet, every moment seemed haunted by reminders of the chaos
surrounding us.
Sarah, predictably, continued evading the legal documents. She refused to officially sever the pack bond, clinging to an illusion of control she no longer had. I’d stopped expecting cooperation from her, yet her
resistance still grated on my nerves.
Meanwhile, Hunter made steady progress in his investigation. He uncovered records–meticulously detailed transaction logs–between Grace and Thomas Ward. Perfectly preserved evidence of her past manipulations and alliances. Each new detail only added fuel to the fire within me.
Grace, however, seemed determined to push every one of my buttons. Her messages persisted, filled with smug little boasts designed to provoke me.
“Alexander agreed to my request!” one particular text read. “Soon, I’ll be moving into YOUR mansion….ally, I’ll have the peace and space I deserve!”
My response was curt. “Congratulations.” Nothing more, nothing less. Let her stew in that.
I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting.
This morning started like any other.
Roman watched me closely over breakfast, his gaze a mixture of concern and quiet intensity. I could feel him studying me, even as I focused on my plate.
“You’ve been working too hard,” he finally said.
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve said that before. And last time, you ended up collapsing from stomach pain,” he reminded me, his tone unwavering. His sharp gaze pinn me in place, making it clear he wasn’t going to let this go easily.
I exhaled, half–annoyed but also oddly touched by his overprotectiveness. “I’ve grown up, Roman,” I teased lightly, hoping to ease his worries. “You don’t need to hover like you used to.”
He didn’t respond immediately, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Doesn’t mean
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I’ll stop.”
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After finishing breakfast, Roman offered to drive me to the treatment center. The car ride was peaceful, the surrounding trees blurring into shades of green and gold as we sped past.
The quiet was broken when Roman’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen briefly before answering.” Hunter,” he greeted, his voice sharp and professional.
“Alpha,” Hunter’s steady voice filled the car. “There’s movement. Alexander and Nathan–Black are pushing forward with plans for a tribal alliance meeting. I think they’re trying to rebuild momentum.”
Roman’s jaw tightened visibly. “And Grace?”
“She’s insisting on leaving the sanatorium,” Hunter informed him. “But her condition is worsening. If she forces herself out, she might not last much longer.”
I frowned, gripping the seat slightly. Roman’s calm exterior didn’t waver, though his silence spoke volumes.
“What do you want done?” Hunter asked, breaking the brief silence.
“Keep watch,” Roman ordered firmly. “Report back with any new developments. And keep an eye on
Nathan–Black.”
Hunter hesitated briefly before adding, “Speaking of Nathan–Black… he’s waiting in Scarlett’s office. Reports say he doesn’t seem… aggressive this time.”
That caught my attention immediately. I turned to Roman, searching his expression for some sign of what he
was thinking.
He glanced at me briefly, his icy gaze unreadable. “I’ll handle it if you want,” he offered.
I shook my head, determination setting into my features. “No. It’s my center. I’ll deal with him mysel
Walking into my office, I immediately felt a shift in the room’s energy.
Nathan–Black sat stiffly in the chair opposite my desk. His usual commanding presence was subdued, replaced by something almost… hesitant. His broad shoulders were slightly hunched, and he tapped his fingers against the armrest rhythmically.
When he noticed me enter, he stood. His towering frame still exuded strength, but his demeanor was uncharacteristically cautious,
“Scarlett,” he greeted, his voice lacking its usual edge. “Thank you for seeing me.”
I crossed the room calmly, taking my seat behind the desk. My hands folded neatly in front of me as I regarded him coolly. “Nathan. This is unexpected.”
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I… needed to speak with you,” he said slowly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Speak about wha
His eyes met mine, and I noticed a flicker of discomfort–an unusual thing for someone like Nathan–Black.” About the alliances,” he began, his tone more measured than I’d ever heard before.
“And?” I prompted, keeping my voice steady.
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He shifted in his seat, the faintest trace of unease crossing his features. “And… about the truths I’ve discovered regarding your connections. Regarding Roman. And the Shadow Organization.”
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