Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118: A Real Wife

Kira woke slowly and felt warmth enveloping her. A heavy arm was draped possessively over her waist, pulling her back against a broad chest, and soft breaths fanned against the back of her neck.

For a moment, she stayed perfectly still, eyes still closed, letting the feeling settle. Derek’s scent wrapped around her like a blanket.

How did I get back in our bed? she wondered.

The last thing she remembered was curling up on the lounge sofa, angry and exhausted. Now here she was, tucked in beside him as if nothing had happened.

Butterflies fluttered low in her stomach. In the entire time they had been married, she had never woken up to find him still in bed. He was always gone before the sun had properly committed to rising, already somewhere else, already out training or buried in pack business.

Part of her wanted to sink back into the warmth, to enjoy this rare, quiet closeness. But she was still furious with him.

She tried to wriggle out slowly, careful not to wake him, but Derek’s arm tightened around her instantly, pulling her closer even though his breathing stayed deep and even.

Kira froze, heart, doing a silly little flip despite everything. She lay there another second, torn between the comfort of his hold and the hurt still simmering inside her.

Then she remembered him and Ruby. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw two of them stepping out of the car together, looking like a united front while she’d spent her night fighting off the Alphas’ judgements alone.

She flung his arm off, slid out of bed, and stood up quickly.

Derek stirred, and a low groan vibrated in his throat as he rolled onto his back.

He blinked his eyes open, squinting at the brightness of the room. He looked toward the window, seeing the sun peeking high into the sky, then at the still-warm space beside him.

"Kira?" he rasped, his voice thick with sleep.

She didn’t answer or even look at him. She grabbed her robe, cinching the belt, and hurried into the bathroom.

Derek stared at the ceiling.

He had slept through the entire night. He could not remember the last time he had done that. He had lain down beside her and simply gone under, and now it was morning and the sun was out, and Kira was still not speaking to him, which meant the problem had not been resolved.

Derek sat up, rubbing his face with his hands. He felt more rested than he had in months. But why is she still so angry? he wondered.

To him, the situation was clear-cut. The Umbra alarm had been urgent, and he responded to it. It was the logical path of a King. He had explained it, hadn’t he? He expected her to see the reason in it.

When Kira came out a few minutes later, freshly showered and wrapped in a towel, Derek was already sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, watching her.

She moved directly to the wardrobe, pulling it open and beginning to sort through her clothes with her back to him.

"Are you still angry?" he asked.

"I’m not angry," she said, without turning around.

"Kira." His tone carried a warning. "Look at me."

She turned. Her eyebrows were up, her expression perfectly level. "What?"

He looked at her for a moment. "Are you going to talk to me?"

"I’m talking to you right now."

Kira groaned inwardly. Goddess, this man has the emotional intelligence of a robot.

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