Chapter 29 Alluring
Dahila’s POV
“You have a Luna to warm up, not me.”
The words left my mouth sharper than I meant them to, slicing through the space between us before I could soften them. I felt them land. Felt the shift in the air. His presence seemed to thicken, like the room itself had drawn a breath and decided to hold it.
“Have you forgotten,” he said slowly, his voice calm in a way that felt deliberate, “that I am Dagnoth Draculis, the Lycan King?”
I hadn’t. Not for a single heartbeat.
My gaze stayed on him anyway, steady despite the way my pulse thudded hard against my ribs. Just minutes ago, I hadn’t been sure I could even look him in the eye. Now I stood there like I’d never known fear at all.
“I haven’t,” I replied, my tone level. “I just don’t see how that changes anything.”
His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “Then you shouldn’t have made that statement.”
I lifted a brow, surprised by myself, by the confidence curling through my spine like it had always belonged there. “Shouldn’t I?”
For a moment, he only watched me. Then he smirked—that infuriatingly gorgeous smirk that tilted just enough to reveal the dimple beneath the light. It short-circuited my thoughts before I could stop it.
Why wouldn’t he smirk? I was still wrapped in nothing but a towel, the fabric barely holding where I’d twisted it tight. His gaze moved slowly, unapologetically, and heat crawled over my skin as if I weren’t wearing anything at all.
“Because,” he said, voice low, almost amused, “Dagnoth Draculis warms whomever he chooses.”
The smile that followed was sly, controlled, dangerous. The kind that knew exactly what it did to people. To me.
I tilted my head, refusing to let it show. “Hmm. Really?” A pause. “Then I wouldn’t want to be warmed by someone who wants to warm everyone.”
That earned me a look. Not anger. Not irritation. Interest.
“Hmmm,” he murmured. “Then tell me—what do you want?”
I didn’t answer right away. I took a second, felt the stone beneath my bare feet, the faint chill in the air, the way my towel clung to damp skin. Then I met his gaze again.
“I want to be warmed by a man,” I said slowly, “who wouldn’t warm another. One who knows exactly what he wants—and means it.”
The expression on his face shifted, subtle but unmistakable. Something like approval flickered there.
“Hmmm,” he said again, softer this time. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”
A sly smile curved my lips before I could stop it. “And I like a man who gives a woman what she wants.”
Dahila. That’s enough.
My wolf’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and disapproving.
Remember who you’re talking to.
I do, I shot back through the mind link, keeping my face carefully neutral. We’re just talking.
Talking? she scoffed. Do you remember the night he left you when you needed him most?
The memory stirred, unwanted. Cold sheets. Silence. Waiting.
And so what? I defended weakly. This is just a conversation.
No, it isn’t, she snapped. And you know it. Do you even remember you’re still wrapped in a towel? Remember why you’re here? Remember the pup?
My jaw tightened. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, holding myself still so he wouldn’t sense the shift in my attention.
I failed.
“Discussing me?” Dagnoth asked casually, though his eyes sharpened, following something he couldn’t see.
“Of course not,” I said too quickly.
His brow arched. “Of course not?”
“I was… distracted,” I added, scrambling for balance. “You have a talent for doing that.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Is that a complaint?”
“An observation.”
He stepped closer. Not enough to touch—but enough that his warmth brushed against me, subtle and intentional. “Careful,” he murmured. “You speak boldly for someone standing in my chambers dressed like that.”
“And you look very comfortable for someone who claims authority over everything,” I shot back. “Including conversations.”
He laughed softly, a sound that surprised me. “You’re not afraid of me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re still here.”
I hesitated. “So are you.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken things. Then—
A scratching sound cut through the tension, sharp against the door.
Dagnoth straightened instantly, the mood shifting as if a switch had been flipped. “Enter.”
The door opened, and a servant stepped in, bowing deeply. “My King. The Luna requests your presence.”
My chest tightened.
“She says she’s been waiting for you in your chambers,” the servant added.
Dagnoth’s gaze flicked to me—quick, unreadable. “I was already in my chambers.”
The servant hesitated. “She… assumed you’d returned.”
Another pause. Then he nodded once. “You may go.”
The servant retreated, closing the door softly behind her.
I swallowed. “Looks like I was right,” I said quietly. “You do have someone to warm.”
His eyes darkened. “This isn’t over.”
“No,” I agreed, stepping back. “But this conversation is.”
I tightened my towel and moved toward the door, every step deliberate. “I’ll return to my quarters.”
He watched me go, his silence louder than any words.
And as I crossed the threshold, I knew one thing with chilling certainty—
Whatever had just started between us wouldn’t end cleanly.
I knew I was drifting, maybe I was.
just few minutes with him and I hated how I wanted to forgive him.
But I was certain I wouldn't.