Chapter 22 Chapter 22
I had been sitting in this corner for longer than I meant to.
The upstairs alcove overlooked the training grounds through a wide window. It was one of those quiet, semi-public spaces where anyone could walk in but rarely did. I had come here to think. To process what had happened at the atelier and the silence in the car afterward.
Instead, I had ended up watching him.
Zane moved across the training grounds with a precision that was almost violent. Every strike that he took, deliberate, and every shift of his weight, controlled.
Sweat soaked through his shirt, clinging to the lines of his back and shoulders. And mapping out the muscular-toned body of my mate, the man I should share intimate moments with but had barely touched.
Sharing intimacy with Zane was quickly finding space in my bucket list as one of the things I should do before my contract expires, two years from any day I give him his heir.
Back to while I had been sitting here…
I told myself I was just observing. That I was trying to understand the man I had been forced to marry and that watching him train was no different than watching anyone else.
But that was a lie.
My body knew it was a lie.
Heat pooled low in my belly despite the cool air coming through the cracked window. My pulse quickened every time he moved, doubling in every flex of muscle and every controlled exhale.
I had seen him like this before, this unguarded, through the glass wall between our rooms. But this felt different. More exposed. Like I was stealing a piece of cake I did not deserve.
Because that question kept circling through my mind.
‘Why does he sleep with others but not me?’
The question filled my mind on repeat, tangling with the memory of that woman at the atelier. Her smug smile. The way she’d talked about knowing him intimately like it was something to be proud of.
Yes, he had ignored her completely, not pausing to share a glance at her.
His focus had been on me, which should excite me.
But then, he went on to say nothing the entire ride home. Only asking me if I wanted to ask any questions when I was just doing my best to bottle up my emotions from everything that had happened right at the atelier.
“You seem very focused on something.”
I jumped, my heart slamming into my throat.
I turned my face to see Kaius, who stood behind me. Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him. His shadow fell across my shoulders, blocking out some of the light from the window.
“Sorry.” His voice was gentle. Almost awkward. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow my racing pulse. “It’s fine. I just didn’t hear you.”
He moved slightly to the side, trying to see what I was looking at without crowding me too much. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing.” The word came out too quickly and a bit defensive.
His eyes followed my line of sight down to the training grounds. To Zane.
“Ohh…” he muttered softly, leaving it hanging.
“He’s disciplined,” Kaius said after a moment with a neutral tone. “Always has been. Even when we were kids, he trained harder than anyone else.”
I nodded, still not completely focused on him. My attention kept drifting back to the window. To Zane’s movements.
Kaius was quiet for a beat. Then he cleared his throat softly.
“Are you okay? After this morning, I mean. With my mother leaving and—”
“I’m fine,” I said, though I wasn’t sure that was true.
He studied me for another moment. I could feel his gaze on the side of my face.
“Alright,” he said finally, stepping back. “I’ll let you get back to… whatever you were doing. We can talk some other time.”
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” I probed immediately.
“Not really, it can always wait.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mmm…” he nodded, already taking steps away from me.
“Kaius—”
Giving me a small smile, he mumbled. “It’s fine, Tiana. We can always talk later.”
Then he was gone, his footsteps fading down the hallway.
I turned back to the window, feeling oddly exposed. But I couldn’t stop looking.
Couldn’t stop the questions churning in my mind.
Why did he choose me as Luna if he had no intention of touching me? Why would he need an heir but refuse to be intimate with the person meant to provide it?
What was wrong with me?
Or what was wrong with him?
The determination crystallized slowly, turning into a spark that grew hotter with every passing second.
I needed to understand. So my legs swung into action.
Zane’s room was much bigger than mine.
I stood in the doorway for a long moment, my heart pounding so hard, the sound of it was detailed in my ears. I knew his room was his private space. So I should not be here without permission.
But if I don’t get caught, how would he know?
Stepping inside felt like crossing an invisible line.
But I did it anyway.
The door clicked shut behind me, and I moved quickly before I could lose my nerve.
I wasn’t looking for evidence of another woman. I had seen many when I worked as an omega delivering trays to him. Neither did I think that I would find love letters or lipstick-stained collars.
I was looking for anything that might explain his distance, his attitude towards me, and why I had to go through that long ass tormenting treatment process.
Because if every Luna had gone through that process, I doubt there would be any more Alpha pups in the pack world.
I was on the lookout for anything that seemed like a report from the healers, personal journals. Or some evidence, recorded clips, or genie in a bottle that would explain to me like I am eight, why Zane kept me at arm’s length.
I opened the drawer of his nightstand first, finding nothing unusual. It held a book. Some paperwork. A watch, also.
The second drawer was locked.
My fingers hesitated on the handle. I knew all of this was wrong. Invasive and not proper.
But the need to understand outweighed the guilt.
I searched until I found a small key tucked behind a stack of papers in another drawer.
Picking it up, I tried it into a locked drawer and it fit.
The locked drawer, now open, held a few documents and scrolls. And on top of all of it, was a thin booklet bound in leather.
I pulled it out, my hands trembling slightly.
When I opened it, my breath caught.
It held illustrations. Detailed, explicit illustrations of bodies tangled together. I looked closer, ensuring I was mistaken but I was not. They were intimate scenes drawn with artistic precision and the intent of the images was not lost on me.
My face burned hot.
I flipped through the pages slowly, my pulse racing. The images were beautiful in a way that made my stomach clench sensually, raw and private.
Why this? Why not—
“What are you doing in here?”