The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 37

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 37: I Need My Own Space**

Alexander found himself grappling with a mix of irritation and a touch of hurt. It was a sensation he was not accustomed to experiencing, especially not from someone like Evelyn.

In his world, he was used to unwavering loyalty and trust. Every decision he made, every command he issued, was met with immediate compliance. His reputation as a leader had been built on the foundation of respect and authority, one that allowed him to expand his territory and grow his pack without question. Yet here he was, feeling as if he were standing on the precipice of something unknown, all because he had suggested that she should retire for the night.

It seemed trivial, a fleeting moment that could easily be brushed aside, but it left him feeling as if he were navigating through uncharted waters.

Evelyn, on her part, was far from convinced. She was acutely aware of the skeptical look she was directing at Alexander, and she felt justified in her scrutiny. Why would someone of his stature and demeanor really care about her well-being? Whether they were bound by marriage or not, it didn’t change the fact that he had never shown any real concern for her feelings. Why would he start now?

She could see him struggling to regain his composure, desperately trying to summon the stoicism that was his trademark. Alexander cleared his throat, a subtle but telling gesture, and squared his shoulders as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers.

“I want to know what happened at the gathering,” he stated, his tone direct and unwavering.

Evelyn felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks as she bit down on the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to unleash another blunt retort. Why was he so interested in the details? Did Wendy or Nina spill something to him? The thought sent a wave of anxiety through her. Had Wendy dared to recount the entire debacle involving Caroline and Fiona?

Her stomach twisted with uncertainty, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, seeking a semblance of comfort.

“There’s nothing really worth discussing,” she replied, her voice lacking conviction.

This time, Alexander’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he mirrored her skepticism.

“I don’t believe that,” he replied firmly. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

Evelyn let out a shaky breath, shaking her head in defiance.

“I really don’t feel like discussing this right now,” she asserted. “You’re right; it’s late, and we should get to bed.”

Though Alexander was far from satisfied with her answer, he chose to remain silent. The atmosphere thickened with an awkward tension as they made their way back to the master bedroom, neither willing to break the silence that hung between them.

As they reached the threshold, Alexander assured her that he didn’t require assistance getting into bed and urged her to prepare for the night instead. He waited patiently until the bathroom door clicked shut behind her before he maneuvered himself out of his wheelchair and slipped beneath the covers, the sheets cool against his skin.

He reached for the book resting on the nightstand, flipping it open to the page he had marked earlier. The faint sounds of Evelyn finishing her routine in the bathroom filled the air, and he feigned concentration on the words in front of him, though his mind was far from the story.

As Evelyn emerged from the bathroom, he couldn’t help but steal a glance over the top of his book. The tension between them was palpable, a thick fog that wrapped around the room. His stomach churned with unease.

She won’t even look at me.

Evelyn slid under the covers, pulling them up around her but making no move to reach for her own book, which lay untouched on her side of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander noticed her lying back against her pillow, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she were on the verge of speaking, but each time they closed again, the moment slipping away. He had to fight the urge to urge her to voice whatever was troubling her.

The silence was maddening, and the prospect of reading any further felt utterly absurd at that moment. With a resigned sigh, he closed the book and reached for the lamp, extinguishing the light in hopes that sleep would come swiftly.

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