She flipped it open to the page headed in her neat handwriting: KNOWING ABOUT MY MOTHER
Below the scattered details she had collected over time about the woman she had never known, she added the new entry:
Mother might have cheated on Father and the entire pack knew about it. Alpha Rolf scrubbed the records because of her betrayal.
She stared at the words until they blurred, wondering if the gentle, tragic figure she had built up in her mind could really have been the villain of the story. Could her father’s cruelty, his cold distance, his open favouritism, actually stem from a broken heart rather than simple hatred? She closed the diary with a snap and pressed her palm flat against the leather cover, as if she could trap the painful truth inside and keep it from spreading any further. Then, she let out a long and shaky exhale.
Her phone buzzed on the bed beside her. She reached for it, unlocked the screen, and saw the message app still open to the text Derek had sent earlier that day.
‘Our first intercourse meeting is tonight. Be ready.’
Kira stared at the detached words for several long seconds before a short, disbelieving laugh burst out of her.
“Intercourse meeting,” she muttered to the empty room. “Who even talks like that? What is he, scheduling a board meeting or a baby-making appointment?”
The laugh faded quickly, chased away by the memory of Ruby’s hands on his shoulders, the easy way they had been talking, and the way he hadn’t even looked at her when she entered the kitchen.
Is he going to come straight from her laughter to my bed? she wondered, as a hot spark of resentment flared in her gut. Does he think he can just check me off a list after flirting with his ‘loyal’ Lycan assistant?
She sucked her teeth. “To hell with both of them.”
She tossed the phone onto the bed and marched into the bathroom to freshen up. By the time she stepped out, skin damp, hair loose, and had pulled on a simple silk slip that skimmed her thighs, she had made up her mind. She wasn’t going to sit and wait for him like some obedient bride. If he wanted this so-called “meeting,” he could damn well come and find her. She was going to sleep.
She had just pulled the covers up to her chin when there was a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” Kira called. Her voice came out smaller than she would have liked.
Mara stepped inside and dipped her head. “Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness. But the King… he has requested your presence in his suite. Now.”
Kira’s heart slammed violently against her ribs. Her fingers curled tightly into the duvet. “Thank you, Mara. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Once the maid left, Kira stayed frozen for a full minute, taking deep, conscious breaths, and trying to calm her racing heart. It’s for the contract. For my survival. No emotions or feelings. Just business. She had survived worse than a cold, emotionless husband doing what the agreement required. She could survive this.
She pushed back the covers, legs feeling strangely heavy, and she padded across the rug to the adjoining door and pushed it open. Derek’s bedroom smelled of him, that citrus scent she had found oddly comforting.
He wasn’t in the room, but from behind the closed door on the far side, she heard the sound of rushing water and knew he was in the shower.
Kira stood in the centre of the rug, her hands shaking. She quickly tucked them behind her back, squeezing her fingers together to still the shake. Her mind became a chaotic mess of questions.
How will he do this? Would he be brutal, treating her like a chore to be finished? Or would he be more gentle with her? But the rules were clear: no emotions. That meant no tenderness. No soft words. Her throat felt as dry as a desert. She needed to move, to do something other than stand there like a sacrificial lamb. She turned back toward her own room, thinking she would grab the water bottle she had left on her nightstand.
The bathroom door creaked open then, and Kira froze. She didn’t turn around, but she felt the shift in the air. The temperature in the room seemed to rise ten degrees in a single second.
“Going somewhere?”
His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that sent a shiver straight down her spine. It was devoid of all warmth.
Kira swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on a painting on the wall. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet. “I… I need water. I’m thirsty.”
“There is no need to leave.”
She finally turned, and the breath left her lungs in a sharp gasp. Derek stood there, steam still clinging to his skin. He wore nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his hips. His hair was damp, falling over his forehead in dark, messy clumps. Without the suit, without the armour of his status, he looked even more imposing. His chest was broad, mapped with the faint white lines of old scars and the hard, corded muscle of a predator.
He pointed to a small table near the window. A crystal jug filled with water sat there, alongside a pitcher of dark red juice and two glass tumblers.
“You can have as many glasses as you require,” he said, his amber eyes tracking her every movement.
Kira nodded and moved on autopilot. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else as she walked to the table. She poured a glass of water, her hand trembling so much the carafe clinked against the rim. She downed it in three gulps, then immediately poured another. She refused to meet his gaze, concentrating instead on the way the water sloshed against the glass.
.
“Are you suddenly scared of me, Kira?”
The question was blunt and sounded like a challenge. Kira’s pride, the only thing she had left in this life, flared to life. She was Kira. She had survived a pack that hated her and a father who had tried to erase her. She wouldn’t let this Lycan King see her break.
She set the glass down and finally looked him in the eye. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she tilted her chin up until she was looking at him with the same defiance she had used on the very first day they met and talked in her father’s living room.
“I’m not scared of you, Derek,” she said, her voice stronger than she expected.
Derek’s lips didn’t curve into a smile, but his eyes darkened, the gold in them swirling like a storm. He took a single step toward her, the scent of him suddenly overwhelming.
“Good,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave. “Then let’s get down to business.”
Kira didn’t flinch. She matched his gaze, her heart hammering frantically against her ribs. “Yeah. Let’s get down to business.”
Derek reached out, stretching his hand toward her, his palm open and inviting yet commanding at the same time.
“Now,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. “Come and have a bath with me first.”
She didn’t move. She continued to tilt her chin, still glaring at him. “I already had my bath. I don’t wish to bathe with you.”
“We’re married,” he replied evenly, “and despite the circumstances of this marriage, this was always going to happen. There isn’t space between us for false modesty.”
Kira stayed rooted to the spot. “I’m not bathing with you, and that’s final.”
“You will,” he said with irritating confidence. “If I have to strip that thin nightdress from you and drop you kicking and screaming into the tub, I will.”
She glared harder, her defiant spirit roaring back to life and burning away the last traces of earlier nerves. “You wouldn’t dare,” she snarled.
“Oh, I would.” A faint, dangerous amusement flickered in his eyes. “I’ve fought so many wars and so many things in my lifetime, Kira. But never a woman out of her clothes before. Tonight might be a first.”
Kira’s face flooded with heat, equal parts embarrassment and fury. “I will kill you before you touch me,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
A low snort escaped him. He regarded her for a long moment, amber gaze intense and unreadable. “You’re so stubborn for such a tiny woman,” he said at last, taking another slow step forward.
Kira instinctively retreated. She kept moving back; he kept advancing until her shoulders met the wall beside the door. Derek loomed over her, his citrus scent invading her senses and making her head swim.
“Headstrong, rebellious, and so sure of your own power. But…” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair gently behind her ear. “I have no desire to force you. I only need you to fulfil the terms of the contract.”
“And I’m up for it,” Kira said, her voice coming out huskier than she intended. “Move away so that I can go lie on the bed.”
“But you’re not wet,” he countered, the words matter-of-fact. “I can’t smell your arousal yet. And unless you want to spend the rest of the week unable to use those legs, I need to get you prepared.”
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