After One Night with the Alpha (Brad and Elle) novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Elle’s POV

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We stared at each other in the hallway, both of us clearly not expecting this encounter. His face showed genuine surprise, as if seeing me was the last thing he’d anticipated at this hour.

But before either of us could speak, I noticed them-red lipstick marks, and what looked like scratch marks

on his partially unbuttoned shirt.

My stomach dropped.

“Elle” he started, his voice rough and urgent.

That’s when Marissa came stumbling out of the study behind him.

She was a complete mess. Her dress was askew, her hair wild, and she looked like… well, exactly like what I thought she looked like. The sight of her confirmed every terrible suspicion that had been growing in my mind since I’d heard those sounds from his study.

My eyes moved from Brad to Marissa, and suddenly everything made perfect sense.

“I didn’t-” Brad began, panic creeping into his voice.

I cut him off with a smile that felt like ice on my lips. “Im sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you two.”

I kept my voice perfectly level, almost conversational. “I was just thirsty and wanted to get some water

downstairs.”

Then I looked directly at both of them, my tone turning sharper. “Please, go on!”

I turned to walk away, but Brad’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. His grip was firm, almost desperate.

“Let go,” I said quietly, but he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled me toward my bedroom with such force that I stumbled. He kicked the door shut behind us with a bang that echoed through the hallway.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I yanked my arm, trying to break free, but his strength was overwhelming.

I couldn’t look at him-not with those lipstick marks still visible on his face. The sight made me feel sick. I

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deliberately turned my head away.

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That seemed to make him even angrier. He moved close, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper near

my ear.

“You send me to a she-wolf, and now you’re happy about it?”

The accusation hit me like a slap. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” I shot back, my own anger rising. “Don’t

pretend otherwise!”

“What did you just say?!” The words came out between his clenched teeth, and I could feel the fury

radiating off him.

I forced myself to meet his eyes, even though my heart was pounding. “Brad, stop pretending. If you didn’t

want Marissa, how did those lipstick marks get on your face?”

His hand went to his jaw, as if he’d forgotten they were there.

“You’re fast enough to avoid anything you don’t want,” continued, my voice gaining strength. “So don’t act

like this was some accident.”

I took a shaky breath. “Brad, are you done playing games?”

He looked like I’d struck him.

“You wanted Marissa here to show everyone your status, didn’t you?” I pressed on. “Don’t worry-”

His face went white with rage. He slammed his fist into the wall beside my head with such force that

chunks of plaster fell to the floor.

I flinched, my pupils dilating in shock. His fist had missed my head by maybe half an inch.

But what confused me was the look in his eyes. Why was he angry? I should be the one who was furious.

“I can handle anything the world throws at me,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But I can’t… I can’t

hurt you.”

He stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read. “What do I have to do to make you…?”

Then he seemed to give up entirely. “Fine. I won’t force you anymore. Do whatever you want.”

He released me and walked into my bathroom, slamming that door too.

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I stood there, confused. Why was he using my bathroom when his study had its own?

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From inside the bathroom came the sound of something shattering-glass hitting tile and breaking into

pieces.

“Damn it!” Brad’s voice echoed off the bathroom walls.

Before I could think better of it, I pushed open the bathroom door.

Brad was standing in front of the now-broken mirror, blood on his knuckles. But as I watched, the cuts were already beginning to heal-the accelerated healing that came with being an Alpha werewolf.

“What did you do?” I asked, genuinely concerned despite everything.

He looked at me through the broken mirror, and something shifted in his expression. Instead of using his werewolf healing to close the wounds completely, he seemed to be deliberately keeping them open.

“It’s nothing,” he said, but his voice sounded weaker than usual.

“We should clean that up,” I found myself saying. “Even if you’re an Alpha, you could still get an infection.”

He nodded, looking almost… vulnerable. “I’d appreciate that.”

I fetched the first aid kit and carefully began cleaning his wounds. He watched me the entire time with an intensity that made my hands shake slightly.

“You really do care about my injuries?” he asked softly.

“You’re this baby’s father,” I replied automatically. “Of course I care.”

The disappointment that flashed across his face was unmistakable, but he didn’t let go of my hand.

“Try not to get this wet,” I advised as I finished bandaging his hand.

When I was done, Brad looked at me with that insufferable arrogance I knew so well. “Go run me a bath.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“I want to take a bath. Go run the water.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Marissa was right next door-why wasn’t he asking her to do this?

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When I didn’t move, he started to get up as if to do it himself.

“No!” I said quickly. “Your hand is freshly bandaged. I’ll do it.”

I went to the bathtub and started the water, my movements quick and efficient. When it was ready, I

turned to leave.

“Do you think I can take my clothes off with one hand?” he asked, his voice taking on a lazy, almost

seductive tone.

My eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious.

“Not just any woman gets to undress me,” he added with a smirk.

Right, I thought bitterly. Just ex-girlfriends.

But I looked at his bandaged hand and sighed. The injury couldn’t be that severe-werewolves healed too

quickly for that. Still…

“Fine,” I muttered, walking over to him.

I started with the buttons of his shirt, trying to keep my eyes focused on the task and not on his face. Every button I undid revealed more of his perfectly sculpted chest.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I didn’t touch her.”

My fingers paused on the third button.

“I won’t touch her,” he continued, his voice firm.

I looked up at him, confusion written all over my face. If he hadn’t touched Marissa, then what had I

heard? What were those sounds from his study?

“I fell asleep in there,” he explained, reading my expression. “I thought the person holding me was you.”

His voice dropped, taking on an almost wistful quality. But it wasn’t.”

I felt something shift inside my chest, like a stone being dropped into still water.

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After One Night with the Alpha