The interior of the Bentley was quiet, save for the soft hum of the climate control and the tapping of Derek’s fingers against his tablet. He was deep into a series of spreadsheets, his brow furrowed in that way that made him look particularly unapproachable.
As the car purred to a gentle stop just outside the campus gates, Kira shifted in her seat, turning towards him with eyes that were far too bright for a peaceful morning.
"Right. My club is hosting our very first proper fundraiser on the last Friday of the month," she announced, her voice ringing with pride. "And in case you were wondering, I’m the chairperson."
Derek didn’t look up immediately. He finished scrolling through a row of data before slowly lifting his head. One dark, well-groomed brow arched in a silent, sceptical question. "Good luck with that."
"No, no." She shook her head, leaning closer, her voice dropping into that teasing velvet register she knew irritated him most. "This is me formally inviting you as our special guest of honour."
There had been an awkwardness between them this morning after last night, when he had almost lost control. They hadn’t spoken to each other from how intense their sex had been the previous night. Both felt like they had let loose a little too much last night, and had crossed the no emotions line. While Ragnar had been half intoxicated by wine, Suri had been burning with rage and determination, making their passion last night almost real, almost emotional. They had purposely ignored each other, and thankfully, Nana had left earlier and they had no need to pretend.
But hearing Suri’s perky voice now, it seemed their intercourse last night had purged her of all that sadness she had carried a few days ago, and she was back to her usual bubbly self. Derek, on the other hand, was back to his own grumpy self.
Kira had already done the maths in her head. If Derek Wolfe, the Lycan King, showed up at a student fundraiser, the hall wouldn’t just be full, it would be a riot. The Lycan students would flock there just to be in his aura, and the werewolves would come out of pure curiosity. Her club’s membership would skyrocket. He was the one getting all the benefits from her in this marriage; she could get some benefits from him, too.
"I’ll think about it," he grunted, his eyes already drifting back to the glowing screen of his tablet.
"When can I expect your answer?"
Derek finally looked at her properly, dropping the tablet to his lap. Kira didn’t look away. Instead, she batted her lashes at him, slow, shameless, and completely ridiculous, watching as his scowl arrived like storm clouds over the hills.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice flat.
"Trying to seduce you into saying yes, obviously," she chirped, not backing down an inch. "You once told me charm was a weapon, didn’t you? Besides, if we’re going to flog this ’happy marriage’ story to the world, we should probably turn up to each other’s events. It makes the lie more believable, don’t you think?"
His scowl deepened until it looked like it could crack concrete. "Like I said. I’ll think about it. I’ll let you know."
"I don’t want ’I’ll let you know’," Kira countered, folding her arms across her chest and tipping her chin up. "This actually matters to me, Derek. I need a proper answer. A King’s word."
Something flickered in the depths of his amber eyes. It was a messy mix of irritation and a reluctant sort of amusement. He exhaled through his nose like a bull deciding whether to charge.

"Have a wonderful day ruling the pack, darling. See you later!" she called.


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