Wolvenmark - The Forbidden Mate

Chapter 17 : Unspoken, Undeniable II

Chapter 17 : Unspoken, Undeniable II

Ruby's POV

His face read everything he hadn’t said—frustration sketched along the jaw, vulnerability softening the edges, and a tiny, stubborn hope pooled in the irises. For the first time I noticed moisture at the corner of his eyes, a shimmer that made my chest twist.

"Should I be deprived of love just because it’s not what other people expect from me?" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Why should anyone else decide who I’m allowed to love? Why not me?"

The words landed like something honest and dangerous. My throat tightened. He was asking for permission to be himself, and asking me to meet him there. Of course he was right.

I moved on impulse. "Yeah… I get you…" I finally whispered, my fingers finding his face. The skin under my palm was warm, slightly rough at the jaw where a day’s shadow had gathered. A small smile pushed at the corner of my mouth. "I love you too. I—"

His eyes flared, a spark igniting bright and sudden. "Then what’s stopping you?" He cut me off again, excitement and impatience bubbling up in the same breath.

I froze. Honesty felt both terrifying and necessary. "I don’t know…"

His smile fell away, seriousness folding over his features like dusk. "Nothing’s stopping you, then why are you stopping yourself?" His hand closed around mine, gentle but firm. "I love you… and you love me. Isn’t that all that matters?"

The simplicity of it—of him—made something flutter in my ribs. He meant it. He meant us. The idea should have been easy, clean, but life rarely worked that way. Expectations, consequences, the office hierarchy—every stubborn, sensible voice I’d ever had began nagging.

Silence stretched, thick and luminous. I searched for words that felt true and didn’t sound like a bargain or a plea. Before I could find them, he leaned in and kissed me. This time it wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t a grab at what we couldn’t name. It was slow, deliberate—each press of his mouth mapping a sentence neither of us had to say aloud.

His lips moved with the careful reverence of someone cataloguing a map. One hand cradled my face, the other held me close at the small of my back, as if he was afraid I might disappear. The whole world contracted to the taut thread of breath between us.

Then he stopped. His whisper grazed my mouth. "I know you want this too…" he said before kissing me again. And again. Until he pulled away with hands on his knees, breath ragged.

"I’d be lying if I said I didn’t," I admitted, the confession tumbling out raw. I pushed away from him, standing up slowly—suddenly aware of how small the office felt and how inappropriate everything could be. I needed space to think; I needed air that didn’t vibrate with the rhythm of his heartbeat under my palm.

He rose with me, his fingers finding mine and lacing through them as if to anchor both of us to that single moment. He was taller than me, which meant I had to look up, and the way he waited for my gaze made my pulse trip over itself.

"So tell me…" He drew me a hair closer. "Will you accept me as your boyfriend?"

It hit like electricity. My head went light. I fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t sound impulsive or cruel. "Uhmm…" I stammered. "Isn’t it too fast?"

For a beat, his face hardened in a way I hadn’t seen before. He turned away and stalked to the window as if trying to put distance between the question and the hurt that followed. "I literally gathered all my strength and confidence to ask you that, and you just turned me down."

"Alaric…" The name slipped out soft, guilty.

He rounded on me—two things sharp in his tone. "Two things, Ruby." His voice was low and certain. "First, I always get what I want." He stared out at the sunset, knuckles whitening. "Second, I’m really impatient. But you?" He finally faced me, expression unreadable. "You’re bypassing all of that. I’ve never been in this situation before."

I couldn’t help a bitter laugh. "Well, now you’re experiencing it. There’s a first time for everything."

He scoffed, but the edge in his mouth softened when I sighed. "Besides, we need to think about this first. Both of us. This isn’t a joke. Just because we kissed and had s*x doesn’t automatically mean we’re in love. Don’t get me wrong, I do love you. I mean… I’ve liked you for—I don’t even know how long…"

His brows lifted into surprise, then melted into a grin. "What?" he teased, but it was all warmth. "So you liked me before, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks warmed. "I totally get you. I’ll wait. But don’t make me wait too long, okay?" I said, trying to sound brave and failing in the best way.

He made a theatrical groan. "Gosh, why are you so smart?" He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated and utterly earnest. "I’m so desperate…"

I arched a brow. "What?"

His eyes widened, flustered. "N-nothing!"

I grinned, pushing at that laugh with a soft shove. "No, no, what did you just say?"

He tried to look innocent and failed spectacularly, chuckling before he stepped forward and captured my mouth again. The kiss was less a question now than a promise.

When we parted, the sweep of sunset painted his face gold. "I want to take you out to dinner," Alaric proposed, words falling into the quiet like deliberate stones. We’d been sitting on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder, the city stretching below us like some faraway map. My head was tucked against his shoulder, the world feeling impossibly small and intimate.

"We’ve been doing that a lot lately," I murmured, half-apologetic. There was the bureaucratic part of me—employee, hours, the absurdity of being paid while stealing time with him.

"Yeah, but I miss it," he said, mischief twinkling. "Besides, this time, it’s different."

I lifted my head to study him. "How?"

His smirk was menacingly private. "Because it’s a date. Not just dinner—a real date. You and me, not as co-workers, but as lovers." He pushed to his feet and tugged me up by one hand. "You said you’d think about it. I’m just helping you make a decision."

His certainty was maddening and thrilling. I let out a breathy laugh, then nodded. My answer didn’t have to be delivered in grand speeches or contracts. It could be lived, one careful, reckless step at a time. I took his hand, felt his thumb draw absent circles over my knuckles, and for once the future looked less like a cliff and more like a road we could walk side by side.

I narrowed my eyes. "That sounds like bribery."

Alaric chuckled. "If I had to spend millions just to have you officially mine, I wouldn’t even hesitate." He kissed my hand, his lips lingering a second longer than necessary, sending a shiver up my spine. Was he always this smooth?

"Don’t do that either," I said, my voice betraying my amusement as we walked toward the elevator.

"Why? Don’t you want me to do something special for you?" he asked, pouting dramatically.

"You can, but there are other ways."

"Gosh," he sighed, shaking his head. "There’s still so much I need to learn about you."

"That’s why I told you not to rush," I reminded him.

"I’m not rushing. I just want to secure you," he said, pulling me closer to kiss my cheek.

"Someone might see!" I scolded, lightly tapping his arm as I glanced around.

"Let them." He smirked. "It’s better that way. No one will even think about taking you away from me."

My heart flipped at his words, but I forced myself to scoff. "Whatever."

"I mean it," he chuckled. "I won’t rush, but I am building a fortress around you."

I frowned slightly at that. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated for a split second. "Nothing, don’t overthink it," he said, brushing it off as we stepped into the elevator.

Before I could press him further, he pulled out his phone and typed something.

I peeked over his arm, heart still fluttering from the morning’s sudden intimacy, and squinted at the screen. “What was that?” I asked.

He didn’t look up from his phone. “Just texting my executive assistant to take charge since we’re leaving early for our date.”

The words landed like a cold splash. I froze in place, all the air whooshing out of me. “You actually told them that!?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

He turned to me, genuinely puzzled. “Yeah? What’s the big deal?”

My brain tried to process the casualness with which he’d broadcasted what should have been our private thing. “You straight-up told them we were going on a date!?” I asked again, incredulity thick in my voice.

His face made a calm, almost proud sort of shrug. “Yes. Are you panicking over that?” He chuckled—light, amused, as if I’d offered something mildly entertaining. “Relax, soon the whole company will know. This is just a warm-up.”

Oh my god, Alaric. I buried my face in my hands and let out a long, mortified groan. The office—the whole floor—was a small, unavoidable world; secrets didn’t stay secrets for long. The idea that I’d be paraded in lunchroom gossip practically made my ears burn.

A few seconds later his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and wheezed, then leaned in to show me. I squinted and saw it: a selfie from his executive assistant, half the administrative staff squeezed into the frame, hands making heart signs, faces lit with conspiratorial glee.

My stomach dropped to my feet. I. Am. Doomed.

We shared a floor with them; these were the same people who’d be in the kitchen, who’d bring up the copier, who’d laugh and gossip between meetings. How was I supposed to walk past them tomorrow without looking like I’d been caught in the act of some office scandal? My palms went suddenly clammy.

“This guy is unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath, more to the air than to him. Alaric merely watched me, eyes amused, like he’d set a small, harmless fire and was curious about how I’d handle the smoke.

The elevator dinged open and the doors slid apart. As soon as we hit the lobby, instinct made me try to pull my hand back. He didn’t let go.

“Why?” he asked, unbothered as if the world seeing us was the most natural thing in it.

“People will see us!” I whisper-yelled, the phrase tumbling out in a panic that I couldn’t quite control.

“And?” He flashed that grin, the one that made my knees go a little weak. “Let them. I told you—I don’t care.”

Of course he didn’t care. Of course. He wore indifference like a coat; I wore mortification like wet clothes. As if summoned by my dread, Ms. Lallary appeared at the security desk, rice-paper smile and perfectly timed smirk in place. Her eyes flashed mischief—an archer aiming for a chuckle—and I felt my face flush hot all over again.

Alaric laughed at my misery, a sound that made the panic and the absurdity of it all collide into something absurdly tender.

I huffed, then—spurred by a mix of embarrassment and a sudden prick of defiance—an idea popped into my head. I could either be the office punchline, or I could own it. “Alright, since you’ve been showing me off to everyone, let me plan this date instead,” I said, letting the words fall out like a dare.

His amusement didn’t fade; if anything, it sharpened. He raised an eyebrow, curious in that way that made me feel both exposed and brave. “Okay. I trust you.”

He had no idea what he’d just signed up for.

My brain kicked into overdrive—menus scrapped for street food and quirky little places, not the glossy penthouse restaurants he usually favored. No more silver-service, no more carefully staged dishes where the food looked like a painting you couldn’t touch. This time it would be messy and honest: a place with noise and life and sticky-fingered joy, where we could laugh without the pressure of perfection.

“Fine,” I said, chin lifted. “No more fancy restaurants.”

The grin he gave me was equal parts challenge and promise. I slid my phone out to jot down a list: tiny, imperfect cafés, a night market with lanterns, a late-night diner that served bowls of noodles bigger than your head—places with stories. Places that would make him sweat a little from the heat of the food, not the heat of the room.

He didn’t know what hit him. But when he squeezed my hand—brief, solid, not showy—I felt less anxious and a little dangerous in a very good way. Tonight, I’d plan a date that would wake him up to everything outside his glass towers. Tonight, the show would be mine.