Chapter 130: Sweet Secrets

Amelia's POV

I smiled and nodded, my heart racing at the concession he'd just made. Such a small thing to anyone else, but between us—between an Alpha and his denied mate—it felt monumental.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice catching slightly.

I opened the car door and slid out, then leaned down to look at him through the window. Alexander's face was half-hidden in shadow, the hard angles of his jaw softened by the night.

"Goodnight, Mate," I said, testing the word, loving how it felt on my tongue when I didn't have to hide it.

Alexander pulled out another cigarette, lit it with a quick flick of his silver lighter, then rolled down his window. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke out into the night air, the gray cloud dissipating into the darkness.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice low and rough.

I had barely closed the car door when I noticed James standing nearby, waiting patiently. He held a sleek paper bag in his hand, the logo of Argentum—one of the most exclusive restaurants in Shadow Heights—emblazoned on its side.

"James? What are you doing here?"

His kind face crinkled into a smile. "Mr. Westbrook asked me to pick this up for you while you were sleeping in the car. Said you might be hungry when you got home."

My heart did a little flip. Alexander had thought about me needing dinner while I was sleeping. The gesture was so unexpectedly thoughtful that I felt my eyes sting.

"He did that?" I turned back toward the car, catching Alexander's eye through the window. "Thank you," I mouthed.

He gave a small nod, his expression unreadable in the darkness.

I took the bag from James, the delicious aroma making my stomach growl embarrassingly loud. "Thank you so much, James. I appreciate you waiting."

"Not at all, Ms. Throne. Have a good night." He gave a little bow before heading back to the driver's seat.

I walked up the path to our front door, painfully aware of Alexander's eyes on my back. The SUV's headlights remained off, the vehicle a dark sentinel ensuring I made it safely inside. Only when I pushed open our front door did I hear the engine start up again.

I crept into the house, trying not to wake Mom. The living room was dark except for the small lamp we always left on. I peeked into her bedroom—she was fast asleep, her medication bottle on the nightstand. Relief washed over me. At least she'd been able to rest today.

Tiptoeing to my room, I balanced the food bag in one hand and Alexander's jacket in the other, careful not to make a sound. Once inside, I gently closed the door and slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor.

And then I couldn't help it—I started grinning like an idiot.

"Holy shit," I whispered to myself, wrapping my arms around my knees. "Holy fucking shit."

I brought Alexander's jacket to my face and inhaled deeply. His scent was intoxicating—cedar and smoke, power and control. My wolf whined happily, rolling around in the sensation like it was moonlight on grass.

I got up and carefully hung his jacket on my closet door, promising myself I'd return it freshly cleaned. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I gasped. My neck and collarbone were decorated with purplish marks—Alexander's claiming kisses visible for anyone to see. I traced them with my fingertips, remembering the feel of his mouth on my skin.

I moved to the window just in time to see the SUV's taillights disappearing down the street.

"I really do love you, Mate," I whispered into the empty room.

---

The next morning, I practically floated across campus. The world seemed brighter somehow, colors more vivid, sounds clearer. I couldn't stop smiling.

"Okay, spill it," Isabelle demanded, falling into step beside me. "You look like you won the lottery and discovered chocolate doesn't have calories on the same day."

I laughed, linking my arm through hers. "Maybe I did."

"This has Alexander Westbrook written all over it," she said, studying my face. "What happened? And don't you dare leave out a single detail."

I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "He told me I could call him 'Mate' when we're alone," I whispered.

Isabelle stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth falling open. "Are you serious? He actually acknowledged the mate bond?"

"Well, not exactly in those words, but—"

"Amelia, this is huge!" She grabbed my shoulders. "Don't you get it? He's accepting you, in his own stubborn, emotionally constipated way. No wolf—especially not an Alpha—would let someone call them 'mate' unless they recognized the truth of it."

Her words made my heart soar even higher. "You think so?"

"I know so. God, you two are like a supernatural soap opera." She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine.

We made it to class just as Professor Montgomery was setting up. I reluctantly slid into my assigned seat next to Daniel, cursing the damn seating arrangement. His scent hit me—pine and earth, with an undercurrent of anxiety. I felt his eyes on me, studying my face, then lingering on my neck where Alexander's marks were partially visible above my collar.

Throughout the lecture, I felt the weight of his stare.

"We'll need to schedule regular meetings. Your first group session should be this afternoon." The professor reminded us.

I raised my hand. "Professor Montgomery, I have work commitments in the afternoons."

Professor Montgomery pushed his glasses up his nose with a frown. "You'll need to make arrangements with your group then, Ms. Throne."

As class ended, our three-person group huddled together. "We could meet at the library at 3 PM?" Jason suggested, his voice cracking slightly when Daniel's eyes landed on him.

"I can't make it," I said apologetically. "I have to be at work by then."

Daniel cleared his throat. "Jason, why don't you start the preliminary research? Amelia and I can handle the theoretical framework separately."

I shot him a glare, but he avoided my eyes.

"S-sure thing," Jason stammered, practically dropping his books in his hurry to escape Daniel's proximity. "I'll email you both what I find."

As I left the classroom, I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know it was Daniel.

"Amelia, wait," he called.

I reluctantly stopped, keeping my expression neutral. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say I can work around your schedule. Evening, weekend, whenever works for you." His voice was soft, missing its usual arrogant edge.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said coldly.

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, his blue eyes troubled. "I know you're prejudiced against me. But we need to do this project, and I'm trying to make it easier for you."

"Nothing about you makes my life easier, Daniel."

He sighed, a genuine sadness crossing his face. "I deserve that. I just... I'm not going to bother you anymore, okay? I get the message. I just hope someday we can at least be civil to each other again."