Silent Affection

POV: Alexandra

The next morning, I awoke nestled against Garrett’s chest, the warmth of his body cocooning me in a gentle, protective hold. His steady heartbeat thudded softly against my back, its rhythm calming as it pulsed through his firm chest. The room was still shrouded in a delicate pre-dawn glow, and for a moment, the world outside seemed distant, irrelevant.

At first, the thought of sharing a bed with him had been awkward, each movement careful, guarded, unsure of boundaries. But now, I found comfort in the way his arm draped possessively around me, his fingers splayed across my waist as if refusing to let me go. It had become a sensation I was quietly beginning to crave—waking up every morning with the solid reassurance of his presence, the heat of his skin pressed into mine. This intrusive thought caused me to blush, knowing that I might actually be falling in love with my husband. That idea was absolutely absurd in itself. Who gets married to someone they didn’t love?

I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, but even the smallest motion stirred him from his slumber. A low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest—a mix of a growl and a sigh—and I couldn't help but smile. He hated when I pulled away from him, as though the very act of leaving his embrace disrupted the peace of his dreams.

"Stay," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep, tightening his grip around me. His breath was warm against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” I whispered back, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along his arm. Truthfully, I wasn’t in any rush to face the day, to confront the harsh reality of my royal duties looming just beyond the comfort of these sheets. The thought of it gnawed at me, tightening the knot of anxiety in my chest. But here, in this moment, I could delay it just a little longer.

He nuzzled into my hair, the softest hint of a smile touching his lips. "Good. I’m not ready to let you go yet."

Neither was I, though I kept that to myself since I didn’t want him to know what I was feeling about him just yet.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the quiet cocoon of warmth Garrett and I had been wrapped in. The peaceful, dream-like haze we were indulging in evaporated instantly, leaving behind the stark reality that the day had begun. I sighed, reluctant to leave the sanctuary of our bed, and called out, “Yes?”

The door creaked open, revealing Whittier, her face lighting up with a cheerful smile. “Regent, Jack Kellen is here to escort you to Hound Hall,” she announced, her tone far too bright for the early hour.

Before I could respond, Garrett’s bare chest rose from the bed in a swift, protective movement. His muscles flexed as he leaned up on one arm, his presence commanding even in the soft morning light. “Oh no,” he growled, voice thick and groggy, “he’s not taking my wife anywhere before she’s had breakfast. I’ll be damned if she’s making decisions on an empty stomach.”

Whittier’s eyes widened, her smile faltering as her gaze inadvertently dropped to Garrett’s chest. Her face flushed a deep shade of crimson as she quickly averted her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the sight of his strong, muscular form on full display. It was as if she’d just witnessed something forbidden, and she had no idea where to look.

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her reaction, a wave of amusement washing over me. Whittier’s blush deepened, and I wondered if she had ever seen a man shirtless before. Her awkwardness was almost endearing. Growing up in Terre, the sight of shirtless men was nothing new to me, but even I couldn’t deny that Garrett’s half-naked form was quite a sight to behold. His sculpted chest and broad shoulders still sent a thrill through me, no matter how accustomed I had grown to seeing them.

Still, it didn’t shock me in the way it seemed to affect Whittier. I glanced at Garrett, smirking at his bold declaration. “You heard him, Whittier. Apparently, breakfast is a non-negotiable.”

She nodded quickly, still avoiding Garrett’s piercing gaze, her cheeks flushed as if they were on fire. “Of course, Regent. I’ll inform Jack that there will be a delay,” she mumbled, her words stumbling over themselves as she practically scurried out of the room, her hurried footsteps echoing in the quiet. Her flustered state brought a small smile to my lips; clearly, the sight of Garrett's bare chest had been too much for her.

Before she could get too far, I called out, “Have him join us, Whittier!”

There was a brief pause, the sound of her retreat halted just outside the door. Her voice, though distant, came back quickly, “Yes, Regent!” The hurried tone of her reply echoed down the hallway, a clear sign of her eagerness to escape the awkwardness of the moment.

Garrett chuckled under his breath, the deep sound vibrating through his chest. "You’re inviting him to breakfast?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he shifted beneath the covers, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

I shrugged casually, “Might as well, he’s here, right?” I murmured, my tone light as though the impending interruption was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

Garrett exhaled deeply, the sound a mix of resignation and amusement. “I just hope he doesn’t bore us to death with his endless lycan academia talk or the burdens of the day.” His words were laced with frustration, but the soft edge to his voice betrayed the fact that he wasn’t truly angry—just weary of the formalities that accompanied his position.

I lifted my head slightly, a cunning glint sparking in my eyes as a playful smile spread across my lips. “Well,” I began, teasingly drawing out the words, “I can always issue a royal decree—no business talk at my breakfast table.”

Garrett’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, the sound rich and warm, like the deep, comforting hum of a fireplace in winter. “Cheeky,” he said, his tone brimming with approval. “I like it. You’re beautiful when you wield power like that.” His fingers reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face with a touch so gentle it seemed to linger, like a whisper against my skin. His fingertips trailed delicately along my cheek, sending a sudden shiver through me that I couldn’t suppress.

Heat flushed to my cheeks, the warmth of his words and the intimacy of his touch rising swiftly within me. It was as though his compliment had ignited something deep inside me, a sensation both thrilling and unfamiliar. I quickly looked away, trying to hide the telltale blush, but the reaction had already betrayed me.

Garrett laughed softly, his amusement undeniable, knowing full well the effect he had on me. His laughter was different this time—deeper, more satisfied—as though he took a secret pride in the way he could unravel me with just a look or a touch.

"You’ve never blushed like that before," he teased, his eyes gleaming as he watched me.

I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but the fluttering in my chest spoke volumes. He knew, and I knew, that I couldn’t hide how much he affected me now as much I would have liked to do so.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the lingering tension, and quickly hopped out of bed. The sudden movement caused Garrett to let out a soft groan as he flopped back onto the pillows in frustration, his arm thrown over his eyes.

"Remind me again," he mused, his voice tinged with playful exasperation, "why Dorian Steele couldn’t take the seat so I could spend more time with you." His words, though lighthearted, carried an undercurrent of genuine longing.

I paused mid-step on my way to the bathroom, my hand gripping the doorframe. I sighed, knowing that while his comment was meant to tease, the reality was far more complicated. “Because,” I said, turning slightly to look back at him, “he isn’t a Chalshin, and we need a Chalshin to warm your seat for you. You know that as well as I do.” My tone softened, but there was a weight to the words, the truth of our situation settling heavily between us.

Garrett’s gaze met mine, his frustration replaced by a quiet understanding. “Anyone else would likely manipulate the situation to keep the power they wield,” I continued, my voice firm but filled with the conviction that had driven me for so long. “I’m there to protect what is yours.”

He watched me for a moment, the playful spark in his eyes dimming as the gravity of my words sank in. “You always know the right thing to say, don’t you?” he muttered with a resigned smile, though there was admiration hidden in his expression.

I turned my focus back to the task of preparing myself for the day ahead, shaking off the weight of the conversation. Stepping over to the wardrobe, I chose an outfit—simple, not overly regal, but dignified enough for the occasion. It wasn’t the finest thing I owned, but it would have to do. I knew the eyes in that room would scrutinize every detail: those who had voted for Dorian Steele, and Dorian himself, would be watching, waiting for any sign of weakness.

But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I had the power now, and I had every intention of wielding it. No matter how intimidating the men in that room thought they were, I wouldn’t let them see even a flicker of doubt. Today, I would stand firm, unshakable.

I walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed, my heart beating a little faster as the anticipation of the day ahead began to settle in. As I turned to face Garrett, I found him rising from the bed. He stretched languidly, his muscles flexing, but he was still wearing nothing but his boxers—completely at ease in his near-naked state.

That’s when I felt it—a sudden, unexpected flush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. The same blush I had seen on Whittier’s face just earlier now colored my own. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly averted my gaze, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress as I tried to compose myself.

Garrett noticed immediately. His lips curled into a knowing smile, one brow arching playfully as he caught my reaction. “You’re blushing,” he said with a chuckle, the teasing note in his voice impossible to miss.

I cleared my throat, determined to play it off, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. “I—uh—well, someone needs to get dressed,” I mumbled, unable to meet his gaze as I turned away, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Garrett chuckled, the deep sound rolling through the room like a low, warm hum. “And here I thought,” he began, his voice soft yet teasing, “you might be enjoying the view.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer, closing the distance between us in one fluid motion. My breath caught in my throat when I felt the faint brush of his lips near my ear, his warm breath ghosting across my neck.

“A pity,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down my spine, “a man’s wife should enjoy looking at him.” His tone was playful, but the way his words curled around me set my heart racing. His hand lightly grazed my arm, and though I knew he was teasing me, the intensity of the moment made my pulse quicken.

“I enjoy my view of you, sweet Alexandra,” he murmured, his lips so close to my skin that I could feel the heat of them. The way he said my name, with that low, intimate tone, made my heart leap into my throat. It took everything in me not to visibly shudder at the way my body responded to his teasing words.

Even though I knew he was simply teasing me, the way my heart hammered in my chest betrayed the effect he had on me. I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself, but the tension in the air was electric, and the small space between us felt charged with unspoken desire.

I managed a shaky smile, my voice barely above a whisper. “You know I’m supposed to be going downstairs now, right?” The words were a weak attempt at deflecting the swirling tension between us, but my pulse was still racing, and Garrett could see right through me.

He laughed, the sound rich and full of warmth, and stepped aside with a mock bow, giving me just enough room to pass. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you,” he said, though the playful glint in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t quite done. “See you downstairs, Regent.”

I moved toward the door, my hand brushing the cool handle, but before I could make my exit, his voice called out again, soft but unmistakable.

“Oh, and Alexandra?”

I paused, turning back to look at him, his half bare form leaning against the bathroom door, his smile disarmingly genuine this time. “Yes?”

Garrett’s expression softened, the teasing gone as he looked at me with that same unwavering affection that always caught me off guard. “I love you, sweet woman.”

The sincerity in his words made my heart stutter. I stood frozen for a moment, caught between the pull of his gaze and the reality of my duties waiting downstairs. The weight of his love wrapped around me like a warm embrace, and all I could do was offer a small, tender smile in return. I couldn’t say them, not just yet so I simply said, “I know.”