Chapter 252
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Carmen sat in the passenger seat, her head bowed, dark strands of hair falling in disarray along her cheeks. Beneath them, the raw red imprint of a hand burned against her skin—an ugly mark stark against her pale complexion.
Her fingers twisted together in her lap, knuckles whitening with the tension. Every so often she dared a glance at Duke, hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead. She parted her lips to speak more than once but closed them again, the words crumbling in her throat.
The car was so silent she could hear the hum of the engine and the faint whisper of tires against asphalt. For a wolf used to the chatter of a pack, this stillness felt suffocating. Each second seemed to stretch into an eternity. Her mind whirred, grasping for a lie-something believable-but Duke asked nothing.
And that, somehow, made the knot in her gut worse.
Finally, the vehicle rolled to a stop. Duke unfastened his belt, stepped out, and moved toward the house without a word.
Carmen drew a deep breath and followed him inside, her steps instinctively lighter, as if she were intruding on the Alpha’s den.
Duke settled onto the sofa, long legs braced, forearms resting on his knees, his gaze steady and unreadable. There was an edge of appraisal in his eyes—an assessing weight that made her shift on her feet.
After a long pause, he broke the silence. “Sit. I’ll get the med kit.”
His voice was level, controlled, but there was something in it—an undertone of command that resonated in her bones, the way an Alpha’s voice would.
She hesitated before lowering herself to the couch. It was her second time in Duke’s home, and it was as spotless as she remembered-sharp lines, clean surfaces, everything in its place.
Of course it is, she thought, forcing down an awkward flicker of amusement. The man was precise in every move, every word. It fit.
But another thought intruded, sharp and inappropriate—memories of him, the faintest hint of soap and steel on his skin. She shifted uncomfortably. For Moon’s
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sake, she needed to focus.
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Duke returned, kneeling in front of her with the med kit. He uncapped the salve, the faint herbal scent of wolfsbane and mint curling into the air. His fingers were careful as they brushed her hair aside and began applying the balm.
The closeness rattled her. Carmen could hear his heartbeat-slow, steady, strong. The scent of him wrapped around her: clean, masculine, touched with the faint wildness that no wolf could ever mask.
She tried to ease the tension by speaking, her voice a careful murmur. “About what happened today… please don’t tell my mother or Riley.”
His hands stilled for the briefest moment. Then his gaze lifted to hers, sharp as a blade. “Were you threatened?”
Her breath caught. “What? No.”
“The biker,” Duke said, eyes narrowing, “the same male who tried to get you to serve drinks at the Silverfang Den. If you weren’t under pressure, why are you with someone like that again?”
“I-“The words faltered.
“If he’s threatening you, I can make sure he never does it again.”
Her pulse stumbled at the cold promise in his tone. She shook her head quickly. “No. He didn’t threaten me.”
Truth was, she still had her own plans for Jace Hale. Plans that required him breathing and owing her.
Duke studied her in silence, the weight of his stare making her shift back slightly. Then she pulled a small black card from her pocket and held it out to him.
“Your money. I’m returning it.”
He didn’t take it immediately, eyes narrowing. “I don’t want coin. What is it you think I want? You?” His voice dipped, rich and dangerous. “Or do you think I’d threaten to bare to the pack what happened between us?”
The moment he said the words, something traitorous inside her stirred. She liked his face-liked it far too much. The lean, refined lines, the hint of danger in his
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eyes. At Ashmoor Academy, males with beauty and strength were everywhere, but she’d never cared. Yet with Duke… she had cared from the first moment she’d seen him, even if she later learned he preferred the company of males.
She set the card firmly in his hand. “No. I don’t want you, and I won’t tell anyone what happened. But I need you to promise me the same-especially with Riley. Her health is fragile, and I won’t have her worrying about me.”
Their eyes locked. Duke’s gaze was a storm-controlled but deep, carrying the weight of someone used to holding secrets and power alike. The longer she looked, the more unsteady her pulse became, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears.
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