His Last Choice

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9

I stirred awake in the hush of the room, my lips and throat parched and dry. Wrapped in a heavy blanket, the first thing that met my eye was the ceiling, painted in a dull, lifeless hue. Hanging from it was a large, bare lightbulb, its persistent, irritating hum filling the still air.

I pushed the blanket aside and made to rise—only to catch sight of Leon on the sofa nearby, his gaze fixed on me, as though he had been waiting ages for me to open my eyes.

He sat perfectly straight, his legs crossed and propped up on a small chair. One hand rested against his temple, his elbow braced on the sofa’s arm, while his other hand loosely held a book, now resting gently over his stomach.

Though my throat burned with dryness, I forced myself to swallow, then slowly sank back down against the pillows, settling once more into stillness.

“How long do you plan to just lie there?”

“Night’s almost here.”

I thought to feign ignorance, pretending I hadn’t even moved or that I hadn’t seen him watching me. He hadn’t uttered a word yet, but one look at him told me everything—whatever he was going to say, it wouldn’t be good. There was no mistaking the edge in the way his eyes held mine.

Still, there was no way out of this.

I sat up as I’d intended, but stayed right where I was—only for my heart to lurch when the blanket slipped low across my chest. I wasn’t wearing a single thing. My hands flew beneath the thick fabric immediately, and dread settled heavy in my bones: I was completely naked under this cover.

Oh no! What happened? Why—where are my clothes? The questions screamed inside my head, loud and frantic.

My gaze snapped sharply back to Leon, suspicion flaring hot in my chest. Had he done something to me while I was helpless and asleep?

But the moment my eyes locked on his, he rose to his feet. He strode over to the table nearby, poured water into a glass, and walked straight toward me, holding it out.

“You were so ill last night, you were practically heaving your insides out. I had no other choice—I had to clean you myself. You can’t actually think I’d ever let anyone else touch you, or take care of you like that,” he said, his voice low, firm, and unwavering.

That was true enough… but I wished he had just let Rose do it. Why did it have to be him? I felt blood rush hot and fast to my face, burning with shame as my mind raced—what had he thought when he undressed me? What must I have looked like then? It must have been a terrible sight, no doubt about it.

“Stop letting your mind run wild with all sorts of thoughts and just get up already.”

“Get dressed and follow me to the office.”

He spoke with unwavering authority, standing tall, his hands tucked firmly into the pockets of his trousers.

For a split second, I nearly turned into nothing more than a puppet, ready to obey every word he said—until what he had just told me finally sank in.

“Wait a minute!”

He halted mid-step toward the door and turned back to face me.

“Can you… can you hear what I’m thinking?” I asked, my voice serious and sharp, because right now, every word he said only made me more certain—something told me that was exactly what was happening here.

“Tell me—can you hear everything that’s going on in my mind?”

I asked again when he gave me no answer.

But instead of words, all he offered in reply was a long, heavy sigh.

And that alone was proof enough—I was right.

I swallowed hard once more, tearing my gaze away from him to fix it instead on the glass I held in my hands.

“Since when?” I asked.

“Does it even matter?”

“We’re mates, after all—it’s only natural that we have abilities like this—”

“SINCE WHEN, LEON?!”

I repeated the question, my voice rising sharp and loud.

He froze, and the calm expression on his face crumbled away. To him, this didn’t seem like any big deal at all—but to me, it was everything.

It felt as though I had been completely bare before his eyes this entire time—ever since our journey began, all the way up until now. That was exactly how it felt: as if I had never had any secrets, never had anything truly my own, right from the very start.

I needed to hear him say why he had never told me about it.

We hadn’t even completed the claiming ritual yet, so it should have been impossible for him to read my mind—that was an ability that only came once we had formed a deep, unbreakable bond. I had thought everything was normal; I knew I was weak, and I hadn’t even been able to call forth my wolf, but it turned out I simply hadn’t understood what was really going on.

We stared at each other for a long time. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill, as a wave of overwhelming shame washed over me—while he stood there, his mind seemingly scrambling to find the right words to say.

The heavy silence between us was finally broken when someone knocked at the door.

“Sir, I have something important to report.”

My brows drew together in disbelief. “What? You’re just going to leave me here without giving me any answers at all?”

His lips pressed together into a tight, firm line, and without another word, he turned away from me and walked right out of the room.

I felt utterly deceived, while at the same time, overwhelming shame flooded through me—realizing he had known every single thought running through my mind, even those embarrassing things I thought whenever we were close to each other.

I let out a muffled scream and buried my face deep into the soft pillow my hands had found.

Meanwhile...

The moment Leon stepped out of the room, it felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt cornered by Hailey just now, and was relieved his Beta had arrived just in time. Even so, he remained perfectly composed as he faced his subordinate; he would never allow himself to show any sign of weakness or hesitation in front of the man standing before him. Instead, he walked ahead toward the office, which was only two doors away from Hailey’s room.

Several hours later, after darkness had completely swallowed the sky, Hailey finally gathered the courage to step out of her room. Even now, the sting of humiliation still burned deep within her. She had no idea how she could possibly face Leon again after everything that had happened. Yet, she could not put off dinner any longer—her stomach was hollow and aching with hunger. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since she last ate; the only thing that had passed her lips since last night was wine, a choice she now deeply regretted.

She stepped slowly out into the hallway, glancing cautiously left and right like an investigator on a secret mission. Once she was certain the coast was clear, she hurried down the staircase. Her goal was simple: to reach the dining hall unnoticed and get something to eat. She also found herself wondering why Rose hadn’t come to check on her or even brought her a meal at any point.

It was well past the usual dinner hour, so the entire mansion was quiet, and she hoped that meant no one would see her. She hadn’t even been able to dress properly; she had simply slipped on a champagne-colored, sleeveless nightgown that barely reached her knees. It was the first thing she had grabbed, as her hunger had become unbearable. She had thrown a thin cardigan over it—one that was almost sheer—just to have something extra on. She absolutely could not afford to run into anyone right now; being seen like this would only make her shame even worse.

But little did she know, the moment she stepped across the threshold of the dining hall, she had unwittingly become the center of attention for every single living person inside that mansion—every single pair of eyes locked right onto her.

The long table was filled with people, and sitting at the very head, dead center, was Leon.

The shock hit her like a physical blow. Her jaw fell open, and her shoulders slumped in sheer mortification, causing the thin, flimsy cardigan to slip treacherously down her arm, sliding right off her shoulder and baring her collarbone and smooth skin completely to the room. She frantically grabbed at the fabric to yank it back up, her fingers trembling, but it was far too late—everyone had seen it. Every single person in that room witnessed that little slip-up.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell. Every head turned, and every gaze raked over her—from her messy hair, down to the too-short nightgown that barely covered her thighs, and the sheer wrap that left far too little to the imagination. She felt stripped bare, judged, and examined from head to toe.

Among the crowd was Harvey, Leon’s cousin. The second he took in her disheveled state, the corner of his mouth curled upward in a distinct, knowing smirk—a look that screamed he found this whole situation highly amusing. But he quickly shifted his eyes away, glancing toward the head of the table.

There sat Leon. One eyebrow arched high in what looked like cold disapproval, while his eyes—sharp, piercing, and burning with intensity—were locked straight onto her, pinning her in place. There was no warmth in that gaze; it felt as though he was dissecting her, seeing every bit of her humiliation and fluster, and she wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her whole right then and there.