The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50: 050: Caught Drooling

~ ROSELLE ~

I wake to the morning light seeping through the curtains, slowly, stretching under the heavy duvet, and for the first time in what feels like forever, my chest doesn’t feel like it’s being crushed. The usual nagging weight, and constant anxiety clawing at my ribs—it’s gone. There’s only a deep, lingering ache... but it feels like relief. Like something heavy has finally been lifted off my chest.

I turn my head toward the couch, expecting to see Ronan’s large frame still sprawled there under the blanket. But the couch is perfectly made. There’s no sign of duvet, rumpled cushions, or any sign he ever slept there at all.

Heat floods my cheeks instantly. Last night rushes back, the way he looked at me in the shower, the raw hunger in his eyes. How I’d scurried away like a startled rabbit, heart hammering, body traitorously warm. And that shriek... the sound that had actually torn from my throat. I wasn’t supposed to be able to do that yet.

I press my face into the pillow for a second, mortified and secretly thrilled.

Therapist appointment at nine.

The reminder hits me and I sit up. She’s been such a huge help these past weeks—patient, gentle, never pushing too hard. I want my voice back. I need it. And the very first name I want to speak, the very first word I want to give sound to, is his.

Ronan.

I mouth it silently, practicing like I’ve always done over the week. Ro... Ro... The sound builds in my throat, but it stalls again. I can only get to "Ro—" before it frays and dies. I can’t push past the "nan." It’s so frustrating. My fists clench in the sheets.

My therapist keeps telling me not to force it. "It will come when your body feels safe enough," she says. I know she’s right. But lying here in his bed, wearing his shirt, surrounded by his scent... I want to say his name more than anything.

I want to look him in the eyes and whisper "Ronan" while he’s touching me.

The thought sends a shiver down my spine and a fresh wave of heat between my thighs. I squeeze my legs together, trying to ignore the ache.

Where is he?

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, the bathroom door swings open.

Ronan steps out with nothing but a low-slung white towel wrapped around his waist. My breath catches hard in my throat.

Moon goddess...

Water still clings to him like he just stepped out of a dream. Droplets trail slowly down the hard planes of his chest, sliding over the defined ridges of his abs before disappearing beneath the towel.

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