Teasing Her Alpha Guard

CHAPTER 15

Dahlia

My phone buzzed against the nightstand just as I finally managed to close my eyes, and something about the timing made my stomach drop before I even looked at the screen.

For a full day I hadn't said a single word to Roman. I hadn't asked him to follow me around the estate or escort me to meals, though I still let him trail a few paces behind whenever my father was nearby, just enough to keep suspicion off both our backs. It wasn't hard to fake indifference in front of everyone else. What was hard was ignoring the way my own body kept betraying me every time he walked past.

Something inside me wouldn't settle. My wolf, Patty, paced restlessly under my skin, howling low and mournful, whimpering every time Roman's scent drifted anywhere near me. Go to him, she begged, over and over, until I wanted to scream.

"Stop it," I whispered, pressing a hand flat against my chest like I could physically hold her still. "You don't get to decide what I do."

Patty recoiled, hurt and confused, curling in on herself somewhere deep inside me. I felt like garbage the second I said it. She wasn't the one who lied. She wasn't the one hiding an extraction job behind a bodyguard's badge.

Was I falling in love with him?

No. I shoved the thought away hard enough to give myself a headache. Absolutely not, that word did not belong anywhere near what Roman Wolfe and I had going on.

I grabbed my phone instead and called Lena, needing her voice, her ridiculous laugh, anything that wasn't the storm currently living in my chest.

"What's up, babe? You rarely call me first," she answered on the second ring. "So, am I in trouble?"

"No, you aren't." I managed a small laugh despite everything. "Just kidding. Let's meet up and unwind, maybe have some drinks."

"Say less. I'm already grabbing my keys."

I slipped out of my room with my handbag over my shoulder, moving quickly, hoping to make it past the front hall before anyone noticed. Of course, Roman was already there, standing near the entrance like he'd been waiting for exactly this moment.

"Where are you going?" His voice was even, controlled, but I caught the tightness underneath it.

I gave him the iciest stare I could manage. "What do you think happens if my father finds out I went out alone? What happens if I get attacked out there? Do you even weigh the consequences of your actions before you decide to lie to someone for weeks and then act shocked when it blows up in your face?"

His jaw tightened and for one small, satisfying second I watched the words actually hit, watched something flicker across his face that looked almost like guilt.

"It's none of your business," I added, before he could open his mouth to defend himself again. "Don't you dare stand there acting confused. You understand exactly how much damage lying does. You did it to me."

He didn't say anything. He just stood there, watching me the way he always did, like he was cataloguing every version of pain crossing my face and hating himself for causing it.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

I walked past him and didn't look back, though I could feel his eyes on me the entire way down the corridor, heavy and unmoving, until the front door shut behind me.

Lena was already waiting for me at the spa an hour later, both of us stretched out on massage tables while two attendants worked the knots out of our shoulders. I hadn't realized how much tension I'd been carrying until the first press of hands against my back made me actually wince.

"So." Lena peeked over at me, grinning. "Did you finally reconcile with your lover?"

"It isn't funny, and he's not my lover." I sighed, letting my forehead rest against the padded headrest.

"You're acting like someone grieving a dead boyfriend, Dahlia. It's been three days, not three years, and you haven't had a proper meal since."

"My loss of appetite has nothing to do with Roman. It's because of your terrible cooking."

"I haven't cooked for you in weeks," she deadpanned, not even bothering to laugh at my deflection this time. "Do I need to punch you in the gut before you actually admit what's going on?"

"Try it and see what happens," I muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.

Her expression shifted, softer now, more serious than her usual teasing self. "I think you're in love with Roman, Dahlia. Actually in love. Not infatuation, or just chemistry. Love."

I opened my mouth to argue, some sharp comeback already forming, but nothing came out. Because deep down, in the place I kept trying not to look at too closely, some part of me suspected she might be right.

"Whatever," I muttered instead, closing my eyes and letting the massage attendant work a particularly stubborn knot loose near my shoulder blade, grateful for the excuse not to answer properly.

After I left Lena, my phone rang again. Cassian's name flashed across the screen, which was strange enough on its own. My brother never called unless something was wrong. He preferred handling his problems quietly, alone, the way he handled everything, carrying weight he never let anyone else help him lift.

I answered immediately, a knot of unease already forming in my stomach before he'd even said a word.

"Cassian? What's going on?"

There was a pause on the other end, static crackling faintly, and then his voice came through low, urgent, nothing like his usual steady calm.

"Dahlia, I need you to listen to me carefully."

"What? I said with wide eyes, my grip tightening around the phone."

"I found something." His breathing sounded uneven, rushed, like he was moving quickly, checking over his shoulder. "In the archive room. A ledger, Marcus's private ledger, hidden behind the old family records. It has payments going out to someone outside the pack, dated back months before the first attack ever happened."

My blood ran cold. "Cassian, get out of there right now. Go straight to Father."

"I'm going to. I just needed you to know first, in case something…"

The line cut off.

"Cassian?" My voice cracked, panic flooding through me so fast it felt like drowning. "Cassian, answer me!"

Nothing. Just dead air where my brother's voice should have been.

I stood frozen in the middle of the estate's front courtyard, phone still pressed hard against my ear, my heart slamming so violently against my ribs I thought it might actually break through skin.

Somewhere in that archive room, my brother had found the proof we needed.

So why did he go silent?