The Alpha's Runaway Bride

Six

He uttered words next. Words Lotus didn't think she would ever hear. Just three words, delivered in a deep rumble. It reverberated from her ears to the tips of her toes. "You should eat."

Shock held her mouth open and dropped it lower.

Was it a dream? Or was she dead and this was her brain's way of finally living out a fantasy six months in the making.

She swallowed thickly and blinked. His gaze hadn't moved. He sat straight, too straight, with his hands on his knees.

He looked like a sculpture in the flickering candlelight. A silver eyed rock.

She caught the way loose strands of dark hair grazed his face, framing a hard jawline. She could bet rippling muscles laid beneath his shirt that was covered with a long black coat. It was in the way his shoulders hunched, the widespread of his big hands.

Lotus observed and observed. Unknowningly dragging out the silence.

Why was he sitting so still?

He had saved her apparently. How?

Say something, a small voice urged her. Don't just gawk.

The unexpectedness of it, turned words to dust in her brain. It reminded her of when she had first saw him. The calm way he strode into the library. The sharp piercing gaze of mesmerizing silver eyes. The acute silence.

All the men she had ever known talked. They talked so much it drove her crazy and they never shut up. But him—silent and towering. Quiet as a mouse.

Before Lotus could stop herself. "You're not mute," she blurted. Almost immediately her eyes widened in disbelief at her words. "Oh no, I mean, uh..."

Words shouldn't be failing a librarian. But Lotus found her tongue tied firmly. Her mind wasn't yet grasping if it was reality or an illusion.

This mysterious stranger, she found inexplicably attractive, didn't seem to care. No expression marred his defined, incredibly handsome features. Not even when his mouth moved.

"Eat." It sounded like an order. Like he was used to speaking and being listened to.

Here was a man that hadn't spoken a word to her, not even a hello.

Lotus had tried several times. At first she thought she had offended him in some way, then concluded he was mute. Now he was speaking. Though it was curt and somewhat stern, she was hearing his voice. A voice she had wondered what it sounded like numerous nights.

She wanted to hear it again.

"Where am I? What happened?"

He didn't reply.

"What day is it?"

Silence.

The only thing that showed he was still alive was a slow blink he gave her.

Was he not going to say anything until she ate?

Lotus stared down at the object he placed within arms reach. She pulled it closer and lifted the lid. A delicious aroma assaulted her nose instantly. A warm bowl of meat stew. It made her mouth water.

She glanced at him. Who's to say he wasn't working with the wolves that attacked her?

Somehow that sounded ludicrous.

Why would he save her then?

He saved her. The thought suddenly jarred her.

What had he seen?

"What happened?" she pressed.

Her stomach grumbled. She looked down at the bowl already in her trembling hands and brought the rim to her lips.

Lotus had underestimated her hunger. She gulped down everything, without stopping to chew the meat.

Dropping the bowl with a grateful sigh, she felt the heavy gaze of the rigid man on the chair.

She had never seen such exquisite eyes.

"Thank you," she said quietly. The warm stew spread over her stomach and satiated her for the time being. Her body deflated. Her back pressing against the bedstand.

The stranger gave her a tiny nod. "You're in a room above the Hog Inn," he said. "I live here."

Lotus blinked. His voice rolled over her deeply, thick with an accent she didn't recognize.

Was that why he didn't talk?

Focus!

He was answering her questions from before.

"I don't know what happened. I found you a little ways down the street, passed out cold." His response gave her relief. So he hadn't seen.

"It's been two days," he added.

Lotus inhaled sharply.

She'd slept for two days! Facing the window, she thought of Prithia. If the she-wolf was worried. Oh even the library had been closed.

A shadow fell over her sitting form. He had moved without a sound and was suddenly in front of her. She drew in a sharp breath but he just picked up the bowl and lid. Before Lotus could say anything he left, shutting the door quietly.

Thankfully so. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess.

On the one hand was his distracting presence. On the other was the fact she had slept for two days. The implications of which she knew not. Then there was that light stirring in the dark recesses of her soul that whispered hunger—a hunger in its most primal form.

Lotus rubbed her face with a soft groan, swatting away hair from her cheeks. Gathering her hair she began twisting it. The movements familiar and lethargic. As she tied her hair up, her thoughts filed too. The ancient thing in her was asleep—so she shoved away whatever unpleasant feelings it gave her.

The stranger had found her alone. Only logical explanation was she had fainted and her attackers thought her dead or didn't think she was going to be much trouble and left. She would simply tell him some story as to why she fainted in the middle of the path.

As for the two days thing, she had nothing to say. Until she got back to the cottage.

Then the last important thing. His presence. She would have to leave quickly before her mouth turned her into a fool.

But her breathing had relaxed and her body didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.

She looked up as the door opened. He entered with another bowl and a filled cup, set it down and took up his position again. His words from earlier echoing through her brain, "Eat".

Polishing off the bowl and gulping down, Lotus sighed. Letting out a soft burp before she could stop herself.

Her cheeks flushed. "S-Sorry. Thank you."

He gave her a tiny nod. Then his expression turned questioning. Lotus had seen it too many times over the past months. When he would come for a book and just stare until she understood he was borrowing it and rang him up.

From the arch of one thick eyebrow, she concluded he wanted to know what had happened to her.

"I had one too many drinks at the festival," she started, the lie taking shape effortlessly. "I tried to get home before it hit me but I wasn't too lucky. I must've passed out. Thank you for finding me."

Nothing was displayed in his eyes but he nodded once.

Tearing her gaze from him she stared at the blankets beneath her. "I should leave—"

"Morning."

"What? You, you want me to stay till morning?"

In response to her question, he stood and started blowing out the candles. Lotus heard him carry away the bowl and cup when he had finished. He came back quickly and to her utmost surprise climbed into the bed.

She shifted from the bedstand like it was made of fire and gazed in disbelief at his silhouetted frame in the darkness getting comfortable.

She should've wondered why she was on the floor and not the bed. She should've known he kept her there. So he could lie on his bed.

Who did that?

What sort of host allowed a guest sleep on the floor?

The room had gone silent. Distant tunes of night birds filtered in through the window. Lotus swallowed down any protest she had and laid down on top the blankets. She liked the chilly wind that blew from time to time and she wasn't going to complain to the man that saved her life.

She had slept in worse places.

No matter how exhausted she was, sleep was far from her. Her breathing sounded loud in her ears as time trickled by.

Less than a foot away was a man she had fantasized about. He had saved and spoken to her and it was more than she could've imagined. It made her warm in places she shouldn't be getting warm.

"Are you awake?" she ventured silently. Not wanting to break the silent spell that had immersed the room.

He said nothing. She asked anyway because she needed to know.

"Why haven't you spoken all this time? Why do you speak to me now?"

Was it because she had passed out? Did she need to be passing out to feel his voice reverberate through her?

It took a long moment but he answered. "I speak when necessary."

Lotus found that despite her attraction to this man—like every other female with working eyes—she didn't quite like his response. He sounded kind of degrading. Like nothing had been worth his words. As if his voice was some precious commodity.

Slowly, her mouth pulled into a frown and all warmth fled. She moved to lay on her side, facing the door. The floor was hard and uncomfortable. Apparently, she wasn't worth his words or his bed.