Eira’s POV
In that dimly lit drawing room, I could clearly see him, his expressions and the silent emotions in his eyes.
But I got back to my senses and decided to say sothing, as silence would only make things awkward for . I wasn’t used to being this way.
"Did I wake you up?" I asked, my voice low, maybe a little hesitant.
"You did well," he replied, his thumb gently brushing at the back of my palm.
"Why are you not sleeping in the room?" I asked again.
"You weren’t there," he replied, his eyes not leaving mine, "without you it felt empty."
I didn’t know what to say. He must have felt in his absence I already left his room. We had been sharing it since the start.
"I... Raven..."
"I know," he interrupted gently, "Don’t worry. I just felt better here in the open."
I knew he had always been understanding towards , not creating unnecessary drama.
"You should sleep more. You must be tired," I said, my intention was to not disturb him anymore.
But he was still holding my hand, so I couldn’t even leave. And asking him to let go of my hand might look rude.
I sighed. Since when I started to care about being rude?
But then, at least with Roman, I didn’t want to be rude.
In response, he sat up on the sofa and gently pulled towards him. He made sit on the sofa between his legs, my back pressing against his chest. His hands wrapped around and he lowered his face to the crook of my neck.
He breathed softly as it brushed against my skin. He inhaled my scent, slow and deep, like it grounded him.
"I am indeed tired," I heard him whisper, his lips brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "Alpha shouldn’t be tired with work, but I am. Maybe because I didn’t see you the entire day. I am not tired, but I just missed you."
His arms tightened around , pulling closer, as if trying to quiet sothing inside him by holding .
His words, his warmth, his breath against my neck—everything was affecting far more than I wanted to admit.
Sitting there, wrapped in his embrace, I felt a kind of sweetness I had never known. A strange, soft affection that made my chest ache... as if my heart had begun to expect things I knew I had no right to hope for.
"You had too much work?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
He humd against my shoulder, the vibration tingling through my skin.
"Did you eat?" I asked again.
At noon I had heard the others talking about how Roman always ignored his als when he was working, how he listened to no one. Their words stayed with the entire day.I didn’t want him to starve himself, and the worry—my worry—ca out on its own before I could stop it.
"Did you?" I asked again when he still didn’t answer.
"Will you be upset if I say I didn’t?" he murmured, his tone teasing yet honest.
Of course I would be. But instead I asked, "Lunch?"
"I forgot."
"Dinner?"
"Sa."
"How can you forget eating?" I asked, now unable to hide the slight frustration in my voice. "Don’t you know there’s food for you in the fridge?"
"Are you scolding ?" he asked, and in the sa breath, he leaned in and bit my neck gently... sending a deep, helpless shiver racing through my entire body.
Was he seriously seducing while we were having a proper discussion?
"Of course I am," I replied right away, shrugging my shoulder lightly to make him stop biting .
"If I knew I’d get scolded like this, I would’ve starved myself often even before," he said, sounding annoyingly pleased. "It feels good to be scolded."And then he bit my shoulder again—harder this ti—enough to sting.
"Ah..." a small sound escaped before I could stop it.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, but the way he said it... it felt like he already knew the answer and just wanted to hear my voice.
"I am serious," I said, the irritation mixing with a warmth I didn’t want to acknowledge.
"I don’t like to eat alone," he replied simply. "Will you eat with ?"
I humd. "Let’s reheat the food."
At least that would break the tension. He’d stop seducing , and I’d stop feeling like my heart was going to explode.
He humd back... but didn’t move.
"I can move only if you let go," I said with a frown.
"Holding you feels better than eating," he countered, as if he was speaking the most innocent truth in the world.
"But I am starving," I said this ti—because if I didn’t say it, he might actually keep holding until morning.
As I expected, he imdiately released , almost too quickly.
"I am sorry," he said softly, "I’ll reheat food for you."
My sigh ca out on its own. I was going to do it for him, but... I knew he cared more than he ever said out loud.
We headed to the kitchen together. Roman lit a single warm light, enough to fill the room without disturbing the silence of the night.
He moved with a quiet speed, opening the fridge, pulling out the packed containers one by one. I helped him line them up on the counter, our hands brushing occasionally—each touch making my heartbeat jump just a little too fast.
Once everything was out, we opened the containers together.
Surprisingly, there were two containers for each dish, placed neatly as if soone had prepared dinner for two people on purpose.
Roman let out a soft, pleased sigh. "Jason never fails in his work."Then he looked at with that gentle little smile of his. "He probably knew one kitten might wake up hungry in the middle of the night, so he made portions for you as well."
I turned my gaze to the containers. "Lucian was there too."
"But this is Jason’s touch," he insisted, almost proudly. "He’s the mother of this ho. ticulous about everything related to food. Without him, we’d probably starve to death."
I didn’t comnt and turned toward the oven. "Stop talking already. I’m starving."
He chuckled softly at my irritation, the warmth in the sound unsettling in its comfort.
Why did it feel so easy to be around him? Like with Rafe, I didn’t have to overthink—yet with Roman, there was sothing calr, gentler... that touched my heart without permission.
But the mont I faced the oven, I froze.
The thing was huge. Sleek. Advanced. Nothing like the small old oven in my grandparents’ ho.
I hadn’t touched an oven in six years.
I didn’t forget how to use one, but the buttons... the design... everything felt unfamiliar. Everything felt like a reminder of the life I lost.
"Let do it," Roman said, his voice gentle—like he had already understood what I couldn’t say out loud.
He ca closer, his arm brushing mine slightly as he reached forward. "This is how you operate it."
I nodded and tried it myself, even though my fingers trembled just a little. It felt strange... almost unreal... to stand in a kitchen again, touching appliances, preparing food. A part of wondered whether this warmth—this normalcy—was even ant for soone like anymore.
There was a ti when cooking made happy, but that was another life. One I buried.
Once the food was warm enough, we arranged everything on the dining table. Roman sat right next to —not opposite, not far, but right there beside ... close enough that I could feel his presence like a soft heat against my side.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, sensing my silence the way he always sohow did.
I shook my head lightly. "Nothing."
He didn’t push. He didn’t demand. He just looked ahead and said quietly, "You can always tell what’s in your mind."
I humd softly, unable to give him anything more.
How could I tell him the truth? That for a few monts, while touching the oven, I rembered the tiny kitchen in my grandparents’ house... the sll of old wood, the sound of a warm ho... a ho that no longer existed for .
My past was gone. My old life was gone. Everything that made "" vanished along with it.
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