The Alpha’s Secret Obsession Now novel Chapter 55

Morgan’s POV

The ceiling of Ricky’s living room greets me when I open my eyes, unfamiliar shadows dancing across plaster I don’t remember studying before.

Paul’s arm rests heavy across my waist, his body curved around mine on the faux furs, his breath warm and steady against the back of my neck. The fire has burned low, embers glowing orange in the grate, casting the room in shades of amber and ash.

I should feel peaceful. I should feel satisfied, sated, wrapped in the aftermath of intimacy I’ve craved for weeks.

Instead, my mind begins its familiar spiral.

He’s going to demand I leave with him now. The thought surfaces unbidden, poisoning the warmth pooling in my chest. That’s what this was—a strategy, a seduction designed to weaken my resolve.

He’ll wait until I’m soft and pliant, and then he’ll remind me that pregnant wolves belong on pack grounds, and I’ll go because I’m too weak to refuse him anything after what we just did.

The bitterness tastes familiar on my tongue, comfortable in a way contentment never is.

He got what he wanted. Now comes the negotiation, the pressure, the careful manipulation dressed up as concern.

I’ll end up back at that packhouse before the week is out, and Sarah will smile her poisonous smile, and everything I fought to escape will close around me like a trap I walked into willingly.

“Your thoughts are very loud for someone who should be exhausted.” Paul’s voice rumbles against my shoulder, thick with sleep but carrying an edge of amusement. “If you’re going to spiral, could you at least do it quietly? Some of us are trying to rest.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” He shifts behind me, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at my face. “I could practically hear the paranoia from inside my dreams.”

The accuracy of his assessment stings more than I want to admit.

I turn onto my back to meet his gaze, and the movement sends awareness rippling through my body—sore muscles, sensitive skin, the pleasant ache of being thoroughly claimed.

The sensation triggers a different kind of panic, sharper and more immediate than my previous spiraling.

My hand flies to my neck, fingers searching the junction of my shoulder where his teeth grazed me earlier.

“You didn’t mark me.” The words come out half-accusation, half-question. “Did you?”

Paul’s expression shifts, something vulnerable flickering beneath his usual control. “No.”

“Why not?” I should feel relieved. I should be grateful he didn’t bind me to him permanently without my explicit consent. Instead, confusion tangles with disappointment in my chest, creating knots I don’t know how to untie.

“You had every opportunity. You were right there, and I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t do it.” He reaches out, his thumb tracing the unmarked skin where a mating bite would sit.

“You were lost in pleasure, Morgan. You weren’t thinking clearly, and neither was I. If I mark you—when I mark you—I want it to be a choice you make with full awareness of what it means.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard.

“I want to hear you say it,” he continues, his eyes holding mine with intensity that makes my breath catch.

“I want you to tell me you want this bond, that you want me, without the haze of desire clouding your judgment.”

I stare at him, searching for the manipulation I expected to find, the calculated strategy behind the pretty words. All I see is a man who looks as uncertain as I feel, as overwhelmed by what’s happening between us.

“There’s something else you should know,” Paul says after a long moment, and his expression shifts into something more complicated. “Something Zane told me before I came to find you.”

I open my mouth to respond—to say what, I don’t know—when his phone chimes from somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes.

Paul’s expression shifts instantly, the vulnerability disappearing behind Alpha authority. He reaches for the device and reads the screen, his jaw going tight.

“Damn it.” The curse comes out low and vicious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Zane.” He’s already rising, reaching for his clothes with movements that carry urgent purpose. “Something’s happened at the packhouse that requires Alpha presence. He’s on his way here now.”

I sit up, pulling the faux fur around my bare shoulders. “What kind of something?”

“He didn’t specify, which means it’s serious enough that he doesn’t trust the details to text.”

Paul yanks his shirt over his head, his entire demeanor transformed from lover to leader in the space of seconds. “We have maybe half an hour before he arrives and I need to leave.”

The words sink through me with complicated weight.

Half an hour. Then Zane takes Paul’s place in this house, in this impossible situation, and I’m left navigating feelings I barely understand with the other man who claims I belong to him.

Paul pauses in his dressing, crossing back to where I sit wrapped in borrowed fur. His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he says quietly. “When I get back, we’re going to figure out what happens next—all three of us, together. No more running, Morgan. Whatever we’re facing, we face it as a unit.”

________________