After One Night with the Alpha (Brad and Elle) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Elle’s POV

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“Your room is ready, Luna. Would you like to rest for a while?” The butler asked respectfully.

“Thank you,” I managed, attempting a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

I collapsed onto the enormous bed, still wearing the clothes I’d worn during the disastrous meeting. Exhaustion from the emotional storm hit me all at once. With traces of tears still damp on my face, I fell

into a deep sleep.

I’m not sure how long I slept, but I woke to the sound of low voices outside the bedroom door.

“Alpha Brad, how did it go?” The butler’s voice was barely audible.

Brad’s response came, weighted with fatigue. “Tell my grandmother Alpha Otto isn’t budging. We’ve got a serious problem on our hands.”

“Elizabeth suggested perhaps if you brought Luna Elle to explain-”

Brad hesitated before answering. “Elle is… Christ, you saw her state. She can’t handle that right now. I’ll figure something else out.”

The door opened, and I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Footsteps approached the bed,

then paused.

“That will be all,” Brad said quietly. “Everyone out.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Martha replied, followed by the soft sound of the door closing.

My breathing involuntarily quickened, but I turned to face the wall, hoping Brad wouldn’t notice I was awake. I heard the bathroom door close, followed by the sound of running water. Several minutes later, the

mattress dipped.

Wait… what?

My entire body tensed. Was he actually getting into bed with me? In all our time living together, I’d slept

alone in my designated room.

Why the hell was he here now? And why hadn’t he gone to another room? This mansion surely had at least

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Chapter 43

a dozen bedrooms!

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I lay rigidly, facing the wall, afraid to move a muscle. My heart hammered so loudly I was certain he could

hear it. The sheets rustled as Brad shifted behind me, and suddenly his arm wrapped around my waist,

pulling me against his chest.

Oh my god.

I nearly gasped aloud, forgetting entirely to pretend I was asleep. My eyes flew wide open, staring at the tanned forearm now draped across my body. Heat radiated from him, along with the clean scent of his shower. Despite the comfortable temperature in the room, I felt perspiration break out across my back.

His bare chest was only inches from my face. Wait-bare chest? Was he only wearing pants? The realization made my face burn. I could feel each point of contact between us with startling clarity-his arm around my waist, his chest against my back, his legs alongside mine. Even his breath stirred the hair at the nape of my

neck.

What?

Was he doing? After everything that happened today with Marissa, how could he just climb into bed with me like this was normal? My mind raced with confusion and something else I didn’t want to

acknowledge.

When I tried to pull away, his arm tightened around me

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice low.

I looked up in annoyance, but what I saw stopped my protest-his eyes were heavy with exhaustion, with dark circles underneath that hadn’t been there this morning.

“You borrowed my chest to cry on earlier,” he said quietly. “Now I’m borrowing your embrace. I won’t try anything. I just…” he hesitated, something vulnerable flashing across his face, “I don’t want to be alone right now, and you’re as alone as I am.”

His words caught me off guard.

“But I started to protest.

“Just for a little while,” he murmured, his eyes already losing.

I should push him away. After today’s revelation about Marissa, I should absolutely keep my distance. But something in his exhausted expression stopped me. Despite everything, I relaxed against him, no longer fighting his embrace.

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Chapter 43

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“Get some sleep,” he murmured. “We’ll eat later.”

Before I could respond, his breathing became deep and even. Had he fallen asleep that quickly? He must have been completely exhausted.

With the immediate tension gone, I found myself relaxing into his warmth. Something about his arms around me felt inexplicably safe. Between the emotiona, drain of the day and the comfortable warmth of

his body, I soon drifted back to sleep.

When I woke again, the room was dark and Brad was gone.

I switched on the lamp and got dressed. Soon after, there was a knock at the door.

“Luna, dinner is prepared. Would you like to eat now?” a servant called.

“Yes, I’ll be right down,” I replied. After sleeping most of the afternoon and barely eating lunch, I was

starving.

I stepped into the bathroom to wash my hands and gasped when I saw my reflection. My face was a disaster-mascara streaked down my cheeks, foundation patchy and smeared, lipstick smudged beyond my

lip line.

I suddenly realized I’d slept the entire afternoon looking like this.

Another knock at the door interrupted my shocked staring. Quickly, I washed my face and applied a bit of moisturizer from the products arranged neatly on the counter.

I noticed with surprise that they were the exact same skincare products I used at home-the ones specially formulated for me by Rayne Group’s top skincare specialist. They must have had dozens of sets made to ensure I’d have my preferred products wherever we went.

Finally looking somewhat presentable, I headed downstairs. The aroma of food grew stronger as 1

approached the dining room.

This Silverpeak residence was smaller than the main estate in Moonshade Bay, but it felt more intimate and less intimidating. I sat at the table where Brad was already seated, reading a newspaper. I wasn’t sure what to say after everything that had happened.

The table was set with exquisite blue and gold dinnerware that looked more like art than functional objects. I picked up a piece, admiring the craftsmanship

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“That set is custom-made. It costs about ten thousand per setting,” Brad commented without looking up

from his paper.

“Oh,” I replied awkwardly, setting the piece down carefully. After today’s events, our relationship felt both closer and more distant somehow. I should have pushed him away earlier, but when he’d held me-both in the bathroom and in bed-I hadn’t been able to bring myself to break away.

The staff brought in several dishes, and Brad finally set his newspaper aside. “Aren’t you hungry? You

should eat.”

I picked up my spoon and tasted the soup. The flavor was immediately familiar-it was exactly like what our chef prepared at the main house. I paused mid-sip.

“I thought you might not like unfamiliar cooking, so I brought our chef along,” Brad explained casually.

A small warmth bloomed in my chest. He’d thought about my comfort, arranging for food I would enjoy. Was it pity after Marissa’s public humiliation of me? Or just concern for the baby I carried?

“Thank you,” I said quietly, focusing on my soup.

Even if his consideration was only for the baby, I should be grateful. It was more than many would do.

After finishing my soup, I couldn’t help asking, “About Alpha Otto and Luna Ada… what are you planning

to do?”

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After One Night with the Alpha