Chapter 18 Chapter 18
The weekend passed like a blur, Zarlia barely got to see Stetson’s face in the house but she had the house to herself and took the time map it out—even Stetson’s room but she was never allowed to go in, it was always locked. Typical Stetson, he always had something to hide.
Now Monday morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of his study. Zarlia tried—really tried—to focus on Luke’s monotonous voice as he went on about reports, budgets and something involving the Edwin deal. But her eyes kept drifting to Stetson.
He was sitting at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, head slightly bent as he scanned a file. He looked too composed, too unreadable—like even his heartbeat had secrets.
“…and that concludes the offer summary”, Luke finished the last. He glanced at Zarlia, raising an eyebrow at the sight of her in yet another one of Stetson’s oversized shirts.
He cleared his throat and pulled out a sealed envelope. “There’s also…this”
Luke stepped forward and handed it to Stetson, leaning closer to whisper something. But even through the whispering, Zarlia was still able to hear a bit of what he had said.
“It’s from your clan”, Luke murmured. “They want an answer soon.
Zarlia’s brows knit together. Clan?
She straightened slightly, pretending to scribble notes on her pad while her mind raced. What did he mean by clan? She remembered reading something about clans in Mimi’s blog posts—come to think of it, Mimi looked a lot like Stetson.
Stetson took the letter, his expression unreadable. “I’ll handle it later,” he said flatly, tossing the letter into a bin beside his desk which made Zarlia’s brows raise.
“Sir,” Luke began cautiously, “it would be better if you came to the office today. There are signatures due and—”
“I won’t be coming in,” Stetson interrupted, closing the file with that calm finality that made everyone fall silent.
Luke frowned. “May I ask why?”
Stetson’s gaze flicked briefly toward Zarlia before returning to Luke. “Zarlia and I have something planned.”
Zarlia’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “We—what?” she blurted, but Stetson didn’t even look her way. Luke nodded stiffly, understanding there was no point in arguing. “Of course, Mr. West.”He bowed his head slightly before turning and exiting the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Zarlia turned slowly toward Stetson, confusion written all over her face. “Something planned?” she repeated. “What exactly are you talking about?”
Stetson rose from his chair, the sound of it scraping against the floor making her heartbeat pick up. He walked toward her, each step slow, deliberate.
Her breath caught in her throat when he stopped just a few feet away, towering over her.
“We’re going on a trip,” he said finally, voice low and certain.
Her mouth parted. “A trip? Where—why?”
His eyes held hers, dark and unreadable. “Because it’s time you learned what being my mate really means.”
Zarlia folded her arms and let out a heavy sigh. “If this is your way of saying we’re going somewhere private so you can have sexwith me, it’s not happening,” she said flatly. She knew too much about werewolves now to be fooled or tricked after burying herself in Mimi’s blog all through the weekend.
For the first time, Stetson actually looked caught off guard. His eyes widened slightly before he quickly looked away, his composure slipping for a heartbeat. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, tone gruffer than usual.
“Still going to happen anyway”, Asher commented.
She raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “Really? Because that’s what it sounded like.” He ignored her jab, running a hand through his hair as if trying to reclaim his calm.
“Either way,” she continued, “I can’t go. I don’t have any clothes. You kind of… left all my stuff behind when you hauled me here.”
That earned her a small twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Follow me,” he said simply before turning on his heel and walking out of the study.
Zarlia frowned but trailed behind him. As they left, she caught sight of the crumpled envelope he had tossed aside — the one with the mysterious moon stamp. Without thinking twice, she slipped it beneath her dress before following him up the stairs.
The things he’d refuse to tell her, she’d find out herself.
He led her straight to his room.
It was the first time she’d been inside. The space was exactly what she expected from him — dark, tidy, and painfully serious. No personality, no warmth. Just the faint scent of cedarwood and something distinctly… him.
Stetson walked straight to his wardrobe, pulling the doors open.
Zarlia blinked.
Beside the neat row of crisp shirts, suits, and jackets were racks of clothes that didn’t belong to him — soft pastels, flowing fabrics, sundresses, and delicate sandals. Even sun hats and heels.
She blinked again, taking a small step closer. “Wait… are these for me?”
He didn’t answer right away. His hand brushed one of the dresses, then he looked away, pretending to be uninterested. “I just figured you’d need something to wear,” he said simply, voice low.
Seeing her in his shirt everyday almost made him loose control so he barely stayed in the house and bought a couple of dresses, in his defence, he was only trying to solve a problem.
Zarlia couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You figured? That’s oddly sweet of you, Mr. Alpha.” Even though most of them would either be too big or too small, she still appreciated this kind gesture.
He gave her a small, unamused look. “Don’t make it sound weird,” he muttered before turning to leave. “Get ready. We leave in twenty minutes.”
And he was back to being bossy. Zarlia rolled her eyes and thought, What a control freak.
As soon as he was gone, she let out a soft laugh and turned back to the dresses. She picked a light sundress the colour of ivory and slipped into it, pairing it with simple sandals. The fabric hugged her perfectly. She was surprised how he new her size.
She turned to the mirror and smiled at her reflection — for once, she almost looked carefree, but she suddenly remembered she was living with a werewolf and her smile faded.
Then curiosity got the better of her.
Her eyes drifted to the nightstand, where a few drawers were left slightly ajar. She hesitated, then opened one. Inside were more envelopes — the same moon stamp as the one she’d taken earlier.
She frowned, glancing toward the door to make sure he wasn’t coming back. Then, quickly, she grabbed two more letters and slipped them into her purse.
If her suspicions are correct, Stetson is from a clan and the moon stamp was their symbol. It was almost like a cult but they’re all werewolves. He’s an alpha, which means so is his father.
By the time she stepped out of the room, she had her sweet smile back on — like nothing at all was out of place.
When Zarlia stepped out of the room, she found Stetson standing in the living room, arms folded, gaze fixed on his phone. At the sound of her soft footsteps, his head turned — only for his eyes to flick away just as quickly.
“You look… okay,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.
Zarlia smirked, catching the faint stiffness in his posture. She could feel the tension radiating from him, the way his jaw flexed as if he were holding himself together with sheer willpower.
“Okay?” she echoed, pretending to be offended. “That’s all you’re going to say?”. He was right about the mate bond; she could feel his restraint—but barely. She felt his anger when Luke handed him the letter too, however wasn’t quite sure.
He cleared his throat. “We’re running late.”
She folded her arms, her lips curving into a sly smile. “You know, it’s rude not to compliment a lady when she’s standing right in front of you.” She wanted to see how far she could push him since she had the upper hand now.
“Zarlia,” he warned, voice low, already sensing where this was going.
“What?” she asked innocently. “I just think it’s only fair. I dressed up for you, after all.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, that familiar flicker of restrained fire crossing his face. “You’re teasing. Pushing boundaries.”
She tilted her head, stepping closer until she could see the pulse in his throat. “Maybe,” she whispered, “but you make it so easy.” He said nothing, just stared — tight, unreadable, fighting the storm beneath his composure.
Zarlia chuckled softly. “By the way,” she added, “how did you even get my size right? Don’t tell me you’ve been dying to see me in this dress”
That did it.
In a single motion, Stetson reached for her arm, his hand firm but not rough. He drew her closer, his gaze pinning her in place — eyes dark and burning straight into hers.
“It was easy,” he said quietly, every word deliberate. “We’ve had sex together before. So it was easy to imagine the size of every part of your small body Zarlia”
Her breath hitched.
For a moment, her brain short-circuited — her mouth opening, then closing again. “W–what—”
But he was already stepping away, the ghost of a smirk touching his lips. “Let’s go,” he said simply, heading for the door like nothing had happened.
Zarlia stood frozen, her heart pounding and her face burning, it took a couple of seconds before she could regain composure.