Daddy Alpha I’m In Heat (Lily and Connor) novel Chapter 65

~Lily~

Emma lowered her hand like she suddenly understood she hit the wrong person on the wrong day.

She lifted her chin even though her fingers were still shaking a little. “Are you threatening me?” she asked.

Alex stepped toward her, not fast, just steady. “I’m telling you,” he said, “never put your hands on me again.”

“I am your mother,” she snapped. She sounded offended. Outraged. Like the universe owed her an apology.

He didn’t blink. “You are a woman who thinks blood gives you ownership,” he said. “It doesn’t.”

Emma’s mouth opened, but he kept going, still calm, still terrifying. “You don’t get to slap me because your life didn’t go the way you planned. You don’t get to call her names because you can’t control me anymore. And you definitely don’t get to stand here and talk about her like she isn’t worth the breath she’s breathing.

Emma turned to me with a look that could peel skin off bone. “You really think he loves you?” she asked. “You think this is real? You think you’re anything more than a temporary distraction? Do you think a family like ours lets something like you in without consequences?”

My throat tightened even though I tried to keep my face steady. Her words hit harder than I wanted them to. And maybe she knew that. Maybe that was why she said them.

But Alex stepped between us before I could move or breathe or break in half.

“Don’t talk to her,” he said. “Don’t look at her. Don’t say her name. Don’t breathe her direction. Not unless you want to see what happens when you insult someone I care about.”

Emma’s eyes widened, just a little. “You… care?” she repeated, like the word tasted wrong.

“Care enough,” he said.

Emma laughed, but it was the angry, wounded kind of laugh that happens right before someone starts flipping furniture. “I didn’t raise you to ruin yourself,” she said. “I built you to rule. I sacrificed everything so you could survive. And now you’re throwing it all away for a girl who doesn’t even know who she is.”

Alex’s jaw tightened and for a moment he looked like he was fighting something inside himself. I’m not throwing anything away,” he said. “I’m choosing my own damn life.”

Emma sucked in a breath, offended down to her bones. “If you walk down this path with her,” she said, “you are not my son.”

Alex gave her the smallest, coldest smile I had ever seen on anyone. “Then maybe,” he said, “you never wanted a son. You wanted a puppet.”

Her face twisted. She looked like she wanted to slap him again, but she also looked like she finally understood she wouldn’t survive the sound of her hand landing on his cheek a second time.

“You’re weak,” she said quietly. “You’re just like

The room froze. your father.”

Alex didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t breathe.

But I felt the moment she went too far.

He stepped closer until she had no choice but to look up at him. “Leave,” he said. “Right now.”

Emma hesitated as if she couldn’t believe he was serious.

Then he added, “Before we both find out how far I will go to protect her.”

Her mouth fell open. She looked at him. Then at me. Then back at him. And it hit her. It finally hit her that she lost.

She turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her so hard the frame rattled and a picture on the wall tilted sideways.

When the echo died, Alex turned back to me.

His chest was rising and falling. His lip was bleeding a little. His eyes were still wild around the edges. And he looked like a man who had just torn down the world he grew up in without regretting a single piece of rubble.

I swallowed hard. “Are you okay?” I whispered.

He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and shrugged like it didn’t matter. “I’m fine.”

I took a small step toward him. “She hit you pretty hard.”

“I’ve taken worse,” he said. “And none of it mattered as much as what she said to you.”

My heart did something weird in my chest. Something tight. Something warm. Something terrifying.

“So what now?” I asked, because I didn’t know what else to say. My voice sounded small. Too honest. Too raw.

Alex walked toward me, slow again, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t dim. Not even a little. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from my face like I was something fragile he didn’t. want to break.

“Now,” he said softly, “I decide for myself.”

“And what are you deciding?” I whispered.

He leaned in close, close enough that his breath warmed my cheek, close enough that my knees wanted to give out all over again.

He whispered, “You.”

I took a shaky breath and whispered, “You can’t have me.”

He stilled. Completely. Like someone froze time around us.

I kept going even though my voice wobbled. “I have Connor.”

His jaw clenched so hard I saw a vein jump at the side of his neck. His eyes darkened in a way that made my stomach drop and my legs tremble, not from fear, but from something much worse. Something hotter. Something that felt like a storm building behind his ribs.

He stepped closer until my back touched the wall again. Not roughly this time. Not angrily. Just with this slow, terrifying certainty that made every inch of my skin ignite.

“You think that matters?” he asked quietly.

“It does,” I whispered. “Connor-”

“Connor,” he repeated like the name tasted wrong in his mouth. “You really think he can stand between us?”

My heart raced. “He’s my mate.”

He leaned in until his forehead almost touched mine, his breath warm, his voice low enough to shake me down to my bones.

“Lily, answer me honestly,” he said. “Do you want me to walk away?”

My mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

His eyes flicked down to my lips. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m bonded to him,” I said, but even I heard the weakness in my voice. “I can’t just pretend that doesn’t exist.”

“You think I care about a bond?” he asked. “You think I don’t feel what happens when you look at me like that?”

“I don’t…”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I swallowed hard, because he wasn’t wrong and we both knew it.

Then he said it.

He stepped in, his voice dropping to something so deep and intense it made my knees weaken.

“Do you want me to stand in front of him,” he said, “and show you exactly who you belong to?”

My heart stopped.

He wasn’t asking about anything physical.

He was challenging my feelings.

My loyalty.

My heart.

Everything binding me to Connor.

He held my chin, gently but firmly, forcing me to look him straight in the eyes.

“If seeing us in the same room isn’t enough for you,” he said, “if you still think he has more claim on you than I do, then tell me right now. Tell me you don’t feel anything when I touch you. Tell me you don’t burn for me like I burn for you.”

My breath hitched.

He stepped closer.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “that you don’t want me.”

I couldn’t speak.

My throat closed.

My heart was pounding so loud I felt it in my ears.

He leaned in, lips brushing my cheek but not touching, voice barely above a breath.

“Because if you can’t say it,” he murmured, “then we both know the truth.”

There is no truth!”

Alex didn’t move.

He didn’t blink.

He just looked at me like I had slapped him, but not enough to make him stop. Not enough to scare him. If anything, I saw the smile that tugged at his mouth curve a little higher. Darker. Like he liked that I was unraveling in front of him.

“There it is,” he murmured, his voice low and almost amused. “There’s my favorite little liar.”

I hated how his voice made my knees feel like melted sugar. I hated how my skin burned where his fingers had touched. And most of all, I hated how much I wanted him to keep going.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly, like he was talking to a wild thing that hadn’t realized it was already caged. “You say there’s no truth, but your body’s already told me everything.”

I bit my lip.

Hard.

But it didn’t stop the shiver that ran through me.

He leaned closer, his nose brushing mine, his mouth barely an inch away.

“You can lie with your words,” he whispered, “but you can’t lie with your thighs, Lily.”

My breath hitched.

“You’re still wet for me, aren’t you?”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“You want to say you’re Connor’s,” he went on, teasing, slow, cruel in that intoxicating way, “but the way you’re looking at me right now? The way your chest is rising and your lips are parted and your eyes keep dropping to my mouth?”

He smiled.

“You’re not his,” he said. “You’re mine. And you’re terrified of what that means.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to slap him or kiss him or sink down to the floor and scream, because every single thing he was saying was true, and I hated him for it.

And then…

The door slammed open so hard it bounced off the wall.

“Where the hell is she?”

And when I looked over Alex’s shoulder, my heart stopped.

Connor was standing in the doorway.

Holding Emma by the throat.

She was clawing at his wrist, her heels scraping the floor, her eyes wide with panic. But he wasn’t even looking at her. His entire body was rigid with rage, his chest heaving like he had run through the entire house, but his eyes–his beautiful, stormy eyes–were locked on mine.

And for one breathless moment, everything stopped.

Because when his gaze landed on me, his grip loosened.

Just a little.

Just enough for Emma to gasp.

Because his eyes softened. His mouth parted. Like seeing me–just seeing me–pulled him back from the edge.

But then he saw Alex.

How close he was to me.

How our bodies were still pressed together.

How I was still flushed, trembling, lips swollen, chest rising like I couldn’t breathe without him.

And I saw it.

The shift.

The softness died in his eyes like someone had killed the sun.

What replaced it wasn’t rage.

It was worse.

It was betrayal.

Fuck. What have I done.