Chapter 18

Chapter 18

“You think you’ve deceived me, but trickery is my native language.”

Unknown

“If you think I’m going to sleep in the same bed as you, you should probably get an MRI,” I told him as I stood in what had to be the most elaborate (and expensive) bedroom I’d ever been in.

Alpha Enzo cocked his head to the side, and asked genuinely, “What’s an MRI?”

Even though he kind of looked like a confused puppy as he said, I couldn’t help but reply, “It’s a form of medical technology used to diagnose tumors…I’d try to find the werewolf equivalent, but I’m pretty sure there isn’t one.”

I expected annoyance, but instead, he only smirked and said, “Werewolves don’t get tumors, so we don’t need this MRI technology you speak of.” He turned away before he could see me roll my eyes. “Now, what do you think of the bedroom?”

Well, “bedroom” felt like a poor descriptor of the space I was standing in.

Alone, it was probably the same square footage as my entire apartment, with dark furnishings, hardwood floors, and the biggest bed I’d ever seen. There was a second door, which I could only presume led to a bathroom just as luxurious as the one I’d bathed in tonight.

Still, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that I actually liked his space, not after he’d tricked me into giving up the only leverage I had.

So, instead, I just said, “It’s not my taste.”

He arched one thick eyebrow at me. “Not your taste?”

“Yeah, it’s too gloomy and the bed looks…lumpy. If you expect me to sleep in these conditions, you’re wrong.”

*Maybe if I play the high-maintenance princess long enough, I won’t even have to come up with an escape plan. He’ll just get tired of me, and throw me out himself.*

“You know,” he said, stepping closer to me, “I can hear your heartbeat. It jumps when you’re lying.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Heartbeats jump for a lot of reasons. Stress, fear, anxiety…just to name a few.”

“And I suppose you’re experiencing a lot of fear, freshly washed and standing in the most private part of my home?”

“Yes,” I retorted, “You’re practically a stranger, and you’re keeping me prisoner here. I have every right to be afraid of you.”

“You’re not my prisoner, sweetheart,” he replied smoothly. “You don’t see me letting any of them sleep on my Egyptian cotton sheets, do you?”

I thought about pressing the issue, but my brain flashed back to the grimy dungeon. If I pushed too hard, he might send me back there – and that seemed even less appealing than spending the night beside Alpha Enzo.

So, I just sighed and gave the room another glance. It looked like it’d been plucked straight out of a magazine, and it was more than just the high-end furnishings.

Alpha Enzo’s bedroom looked…bare.

Not in the sense that it was lacking furniture – it definitely wasn’t – but the more I looked, the more impersonal it felt. There were no family photos or embarrassing childhood pictures. No knick-knacks decorating the nightstand and dresser, like the kind you pick up from hobbies or fun nights with friends.

*I guess he’s just not a sentimental guy.*

I thought about commenting on it, but just as I opened my mouth, I closed it.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer to sleep on?” He asked me, peeling back the dark comforter and moving a few soft throw-pillows onto a side chair.

“Neither,” I said, “I told you, I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

“And why not?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Because you’re a stranger,” I told him, “Who knows what you’d do to me in the middle of the night? We need at least one closed door between us.”

Even as I said it, I had no real fear that Alpha Enzo was going to hurt me…which was a mystery in and of itself. I knew I had no reason to trust him – he really was a stranger – but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to fear him in the way that any woman should fear a strange man forcing her to sleep beside him.

It was as if my body, and some parts of my mind, just implicitly trusted him.

Of course, I wasn’t going to let him know that.

*I wonder if the mate bond affects my brain on a chemical level, like overproducing dopamine anytime I’m near him. It would certainly explain all these…feelings.*

*Too bad werewolves aren’t technologically-advanced enough to actually study these things.*

He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, sweetheart, if I was going to do anything to you, you’d be willing and awake.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t take your word for it,” I said, “There’s got to be at least one guest bedroom in this place. I’ll take that.”

I could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed that I was beginning to annoy him. “You’ll take what I tell you to take,” he replied, and maybe it was the raspy tone of his voice, but something fluttered in my lower belly when he said it.

I swallowed. “I –”

He was across the room in a flash, towering over me with a look in his eyes that felt…

Predatory.

“You know what I think, sweetheart?” He said, his voice low.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I stared up at him, eyes wide.

I didn’t dare respond, and he didn’t seem to want one anyway, as he continued, “I think you’re used to using that quick wit of yours to outsmart the people around you. You’re probably even used to being the smartest person in the room.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“But it’s not going to work for you this time. You can scheme and you can manipulate, but not a word from that silver tongue of yours is going to convince me to let you go. You may not realize it yet, but you’re mine.”

He leaned down until our faces were inches apart, until I could feel his cool breath ghost over my face. “And as stubborn as you may think you are, I can promise you I’m ten times as persistent. Understand?”

There was that dangerous edge to his voice again.

And maybe it was my survival instinct, but I kept my mouth clamped shut as I nodded stiffly.

He straightened up immediately, a victorious smile curling over his lips as he said, “Good. Now, I’ll ask again…what side of the bed do you prefer?”