Page 64 of The Alpha Wolf's Pregnant Bride

She clears her throat, drawing my attention away from my daze.

“How do you—” she clears her throat again, pointing at the sheet covering my legs. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel fine,” I nod, throwing off the sheet and steadily turning to hang my feet off the side of the bed. I barely bat an eye, which indicates to me that I’m already healed thanks to the sped-up healing powers of the Alpha blood in my veins.

But I don’t admit that I feel perfectly fine. When I noticed Cassandra’s concern furrowing her brows, I feigned discomfort with a forced wince and pretended to groan. This prompts Cassandra forward as she falls to her knees in front of me, a hand flying to my wrapped thigh.

“Does it still hurt?” she asks worriedly. “Has it not healed yet?”

“I don’t think so,” I whisper, intently watching the way she cautiously begins to unwrap the bandages covering my thigh.

“Maybe we should change this,” she offers sulkily, her fingers skittering so close to the hem of my shorts that I have to maintain a steady breath to keep myself from getting hard this instant.

She dotes on me with the kind of tenderness I’d never expected to experience from a woman. Watching her carefully peel back the layers of the bandage, tongue pressed in her cheekthe way she does when she’s focused on her work, I realize that she cares for me more than I deserve to be cared for.

When my thigh is fully exposed, she gasps, whispering gentle fingertips across the faint scar that remains. The skin had fully bonded where the hybrid wolf had ripped its claws through my flesh. All that’s left are the lashes of darker skin that will soon disappear altogether.

“It’s a miracle…” she breathes in awe, lifting her eyes to meet mine. The round, brown irises glimmer in the natural light, her pupils dilating as if she’s drunk.

Almost as drunk as I am by the scent of sweet florals swooning the air around us. Taking a breath is like drinking in the sultry notes of sweetness that envelop my senses and leave me feeling light-headed.

Reaching out and cupping her cheek is a natural reaction to the way I feel enthralled by her proximity. She doesn’t flinch from my touch, her eyes growing heavier but softer at the same time.

“Of course, I’m healed.”

“You were pretending…” she murmurs, her eyelids fluttering as if she’s about to close her eyes and nestle further into my touch.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” I admit, voice gravelly. “I don’t wanna pretend about anything. Last night, when I thought I was gonna die, all I could think about was you, Cassandra,” I profess. “I couldn’t leave things the way they were between us if I died.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t die, then,” she says nervously.

I shake my head, adamant to clear things up between us. “I won’t let another moment pass without you knowing how sorry I am for all the pain I’ve caused. I understand now why you left us before…”

Tears pool in Cassandra’s sweet eyes, gnawing at my heart with the amount of regret I have.

“Please forgive me, Cassie. I thought I knew everything, but it’s clear that I have a lot to learn.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says with a timid sniffle, placing a hand over the one resting on her cheek. “I told you already, I forgive you. Last night, I was faced with the dreaded thought that you might never wake up again. And I knew—” her voice breaks off in anguish.

Consoling her by stroking the apple of her cheek, I bite down on the torrent of emotions gripping me. I am the luckiest idiot alive, and I am a greedy bastard, too.

“Does that mean you’ll agree to be my mate?”

She nods softly, a stray tear slipping from her eye. I wipe at it with the pad of my thumb and ask, “Can I kiss you now?”

Her breath audibly hitches in her throat when she gasps. Her brows wave as if animated with soft wariness. “Ye-yes.” She nods gently, pensively, almost as if she’s unsure, while her frown deepens.

To ensure her consent, I slide my hand to her chin and stroke her bottom lip, closing the minute distance that’s left between us when I lean in. The tips of our noses almost touch, her breath warm and inviting as it fans my lips.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers, the tenderness of her voice gently vibrating between us.

“What for?” I ask with a frown.

Her nose scrunches. “For slapping you before.”

I chuckle mindlessly, then. “Are you kidding me? I thought we were past that.”

When she shakes her head into my palm, I realize how much this woman cares about me. That’s why she’d been hesitant to follow through with the kiss I requested. She thought she lost me last night, just as I thought I’d lost the chance ever to see her face again.

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