Chapter 8
Zenovia
The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. The sterile smell of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with a faint scent of cologne.
1 stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, as his lips hovered just inches from mine. The tension between us was palpable, and the anticipation electrified the atmosphere.
1 gulped nervously, and I felt my nipples strain against the flimsy fabric, painfully aware of how I was caged between him. and the wall and how his lips were hovering above mine.
I winced a little, and he immediately loosened his hold, but he did not let go of me completely. And just why did my body not like him stepping away a little?
His breath fanned my face, making goosebumps p le on my arms as I focused on the line he had spoken, disguised as a question. It was then that the reality of my identity hit me again.
“I have not awakened my wolf yet.”
1 answered in a low voice and then added, “I am a late bloomer”
I was not sure why I was justifying that to him, but the words slipped out of my mouth before I could take them back.
Maybe after being called a warrior. I did not want to let him feel that I was a weakling. And nor did I want him to feel that I was already imagining how his hands would feel on my bare skin, without the gown separating us.
I hated myself for thinking this way. No, I hated him for making me think this way.
“Ahh, I see.” He said and ignored my clawing and hissing while looking into my eyes.
I expected to see that cold, calculative gaze being directed at me. Whenever somebody learned I was wolfless, I would be looked at as if I was dirt.
Being wolfless in a world ruled by werewolves that had a Lycan king was similar to having no hands or legs in the human world.
Wolfless people were even considered lower than rogues, so I waited for him to pull back, as if being close to me would give him some infectious disease.

But, surprisingly, he did not move an inch. He was still standing close, painfully close, our bodies touching from head to toe, or rather his big, massive body frame, caging me like a deer trapped in a lion’s mouth.
The only difference was that the lion had not taken a bite…yet.
I stopped thrashing mostly because I felt weak after having stayed unconscious, for Goddess knew how long not because of what his touch was doing to me.
At least, that is what I told myself.
“You hit me with your car. You are the reason I am here, so stop acting as if you care,” I snapped at him, more to remind myself of the fact and stop my traitorous body from messing with my brain.
I had to get a grip over myself and not stare at him with puppy eyes, looking at him as if he was my savior who had come to
rescue me.
He was a handsome prince, and currently I was in distress, but my life was no fairytale.
“You talk a lot, don’t you? Not sure why the doctor or nurse thought you were weak and timid.”
I pounced at those words. “I am neither” though I could not help but feel just a little bit proud when he said that.
The Lycan King thought I was a warrior…that I was not weak or timid.
He grinned, and his little smile made my heart s p a beat. He looked even more gorgeous when he grinned and I saw at dimple appear on his cheek. Up close, I could see the way his eyes flicked, searching my face and trying to determine what
to do with me.
Callahan’s face was truly a sight to behold. The golden eyes gave him a mesmerizing aura, but his smile was radiant and his deep, throaty chuckle made my knees wobble.
Not to forget his voice that was stirring something inside me.
All of this was becoming too much for me to process.
I mustered up the courage to break the silence, my voice barely above a whisper. “Want to see?” I challenged, my voice quivering with a mix of fear and excitement. “Just loosen your hold over me, and I will show you.”
He gazed into my eyes, his dark irises sparkling with curiosity. The air c d with a nervous energy, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath mingled with mine, and my erratic breathing betrayed my anticipation.
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Chapter 8
What do you mean?” he asked, his voice slow and deliberate, each word causing my thoughts to s r like leaves in the wind.
I took a deep breath, my chest heaving with the weight of my emotions. “Show me what?” he persisted, his voice a tantalizing whisper that sent shivers down my spine.
“How weak and timid I am.” I confessed, my voice trembling with vulnerability. The words hung in the air, the admission hanging between us like a delicate thread.
He pondered my words for a moment, his gaze piercing into my soul. “So if I let you go,” he mused, “and you cannot manage to run towards the door without limping, do you promise to do as I ask?”
The realization of the challenge hit me like a lightning bolt, and 1 blurted out a hasty response before fully comprehending. the consequences. “Yes,” 1 exclaimed, the word slipping from my lips before I could fully register the weight of the agreement I had just made.
King Callahan slowly stepped away from me, releasing his grip on my arms. I glared at him, the defiance in my eyes a stark contrast to the vulnerability I had just revealed.
He nonchalantly pushed his hands into his pockets, sauntering over to the nearby hospital bed and leaning on its metal. frame. His left hand rested on the cold surface, a casual yet commanding posture.
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