Chapter 52

Marcello pov

I stood at the end of the room, my legs crossed, gazing at Lyra with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. She sat on the mattress, her legs crossed, looking like a queen on her throne. I couldn't help but chuckle at her audacity.

"Lyra, you've never agreed to be my mate," I said, my voice low and smooth. "Why the sudden change of mind?"

Lyra's eyes locked onto mine, a spark of defiance igniting within them. But I wasn't interested in her games. I strolled towards my drawer, which was closer to the mattress. Lyra's eyes followed me, and she tensed, her body language screaming that she thought I was coming for her.

I chuckled softly, trying to reassure her. "Relax, Lyra. I'm not going to hurt you." I opened the drawer and pulled out my cigarettes, along with a lighter. Lyra's eyes widened as I lit the cigarette, the smoke wafting into the air.

She started coughing, her face scrunched up in distaste. "Ugh, Marcello, can you please put that out?" she asked, her voice hoarse from coughing.

I raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on my lips. "Why should I?" I asked, taking another drag on the cigarette. "You're not my mate yet, Lyra. You don't get to control me."

Lyra's eyes flashed with anger, but she composed herself, her voice steady. "I'm asking you to put it out because I hate the smell of smoke."

I snorted, my laughter echoing through the room. "You hate the smell of smoke? That's cute. But I'm not going to put it out just because you don't like it."

Her face reddened, her anger simmering just below the surface. "Marcello, I'm serious. Put it out."

I leaned against the wall, watching her with amusement. "Or what? You'll refuse to be my mate? I think I'll take that risk."

The air was thick with tension as Lyra's anger boiled over. She stood up, her eyes blazing with fury. "You know what? Forget it. I don't want to be your mate anymore."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden change of heart. "Oh? And why is that?"

Lyra's voice was laced with venom. "Because I don't want to be with someone who thinks they can control me, or manipulate me. I deserve better than that."

I smirked, taking another drag on the cigarette. "Is that so? And what makes you think you deserve better than me?"

Her  eyes flashed with anger, but she stood her ground. "Because I'm worth it. And I won't settle for anything less."

I watched her, my expression unreadable. But inside, I was intrigued. Lyra was a firecracker, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her spark. Maybe, just maybe, she was worth the risk.

"So, Lyra," I said, my voice low and smooth. "Tell me. Why do you want to be my mate?"

Lyra's eyes locked onto mine, a spark of determination igniting within them. "I'll tell you, but only if you put out the cigarette."

I snorted, my laughter echoing through the room. "You drive a hard bargain, Lyra. But I'm not sure I'm willing to make concessions just yet."

The air was thick with tension as her anger simmered just below the surface. But I knew she wanted this, and she would do whatever it took to get it.

I watched Lyra walk to the window, her gaze fixed on the outside world. The sunlight danced across her face, highlighting the determination etched on her features. I couldn't help but be intrigued by her spirit.

Just as I was about to speak, a knock on the door jerked my attention away from Lyra. I frowned, irritated by the interruption. "Enter," I called out, my voice firm.

The door opened, and one of my guards stood in the entrance. "Alpha Marcello, your godfather wants to see you," he said, his voice respectful.

I raised an eyebrow, my mind racing with possibilities. What could my godfather want now? I turned to the guard. "Tell him I'm coming," I said, my voice neutral.

The guard hesitated, his expression tense. "It's urgent, Alpha Marcello. He insists on seeing you immediately."

My patience wore thin. I glared at the guard, my voice low and menacing. "Get the hell out of my corridor," I snapped, my anger simmering just below the surface. "Tell my godfather I'll be there when I'm good and ready."

The guard took a step back, his eyes wide with fear. "Yes, Alpha Marcello," he stammered, before quickly retreating from the room.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I threw my cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, extinguishing the flame. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, a reminder of my frustration.

I walked over to Lyra, who was still staring out the window. Her profile was serene, but I could sense the tension in her shoulders. I reached out, my hand gentle as I turned her to face me.

For a moment, our eyes locked, the tension between us palpable. Then, without thinking, I leaned in and kissed her forehead. It was a gentle gesture, one that surprised me.

"I'll be back," I told her, my voice low and husky. "We aren't done discussing this."

Lyra's eyes met mine, a spark of curiosity igniting within them. "What do you want from me, Marcello?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I smiled, my eyes locked onto hers. "I want you to be my mate," I said, my voice simple. "I want you by my side, as my partner, my confidante. Together, we can rule this pack with an iron fist."

Lyra's gaze didn't waver, her eyes flashing with determination. "And what if I refuse?" she asked, her voice steady.

I chuckled, my heart racing with anticipation. "You won't refuse," I said, my voice confident. "You'll learn to love me, Lyra. You'll learn to submit to me."

Her expression didn't change, but I could sense the anger simmering beneath her surface. I leaned in closer, my voice low and husky. "I'll be back, Lyra. And when I am, you'd better be ready."

With one last glance, I turned and walked away, leaving Lyra standing alone by the window. I had a feeling that my godfather's urgent summons was about to get me angr..