Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 95

**Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**

**Chapter 95**

Roana.

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As I slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, I found myself enveloped in the comforting strength of Cassian’s arms. Despite my own considerable size, his embrace made me feel diminutive, as if I were a delicate flower cradled by a mighty oak. He was a Lycan, a creature of immense power and grace, and it seemed as though his arms were sculpted specifically to hold me without effort.

I turned to face him, taking in the sight of his peaceful form. The gentle sound of his snoring filled the air, a soft melody that contrasted with the chaos of my thoughts. His silver hair tumbled over one eye, and a few scars adorned his skin, each telling a story of battles fought and won. In that moment, he appeared nothing short of perfection.

With a tender finger, I traced the sharp, strong line of his jaw. It was a beautiful scene, one I wished to hold onto forever, a moment of serenity amidst the tumult of our lives.

“This is not morning!” Rye, my inner voice, grumbled sleepily from the recesses of my mind, curling up like a cat seeking warmth.

“What do you mean by that?” I murmured, my brows knitting together in confusion.

“Check the time!” she replied, stifling a yawn that echoed through my thoughts.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand, right next to Cassian’s, and as I did, he stirred slightly, his fingers twitching around my waist. He held me tightly, making it a challenge to shift away from him.

When I finally turned on the screen, my heart sank as I realized we had slept through the entire day. Panic surged through me; I had an appointment to attend in just thirty minutes.

A wave of frustration washed over me, and I felt an urge to smack his head for keeping me awake all night. This beast had once again pulled me into his world, leaving me disoriented and late.

With determination, I wriggled free from his grasp. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking as if the light was a foreign concept, and in a rough, sleepy voice, he asked, “Where are you going?” His lips brushed against my shoulder, igniting a trail of goosebumps that raced across my skin.

“I have an appointment. Are you going home?” I asked, hastily gathering the clothes I had discarded on the floor.

He shook his head, rubbing his temple lazily as if the very act required effort. “I will take some rest.”

“Okay,” I replied, glancing around the room. My eyes widened in astonishment as I took in the luxurious surroundings. This wasn’t just any hotel; it was a stunning bedroom with a breathtaking view of a frozen lake. My heartbeat quickened as memories of the previous night began to resurface.

I recalled the laughter, the wine, and the way I had let myself be swept away by the evening. “Where are we?” I asked, fumbling with my shirt as my fingers trembled slightly while buttoning it.

“In my penthouse,” he answered, his gaze still on me, sleepiness giving way to a sharp attentiveness. For a brief moment, his eyes roamed my body before returning to meet mine.

“Rich man!” I chuckled, tying my hair up into a messy bun, the memory of the grand bathtub we had shared flashing in my mind—a tub so large it could have fit two giants comfortably.

Suddenly, he broke the silence, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Who are you going to meet?”

I could sense the shift in his demeanor, the way his pupils narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to gauge my response. “Some acquaintances,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual.

“How long will it take to return home?” he pressed, his concern evident.

I scoffed, turning to face him fully. “You’re questioning me like a jealous lover, Your Majesty. What’s this? Are you feeling a twinge of jealousy?”

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