Chapter 9
"The flight’s been waiting on us for half an hour. What, are you on drugs?"
The words weren't a question; they were a grenade tossed from the other seat. The scent of a powerful Alpha's irritation, sharp and clean, filled the cabin.
Safia’s vision swam as she sat up, a heavy fog of sleep still clinging to her. But as her eyes cleared and landed on Sion, she saw a flicker of performance in his anger, irritation that felt staged rather than genuine. The memory of the dream, a vague, lingering warmth, returned to her. Had she truly been in his arms, or was it just her imagination?
Ten minutes later, the plane was airborne. The flight attendant, a woman with a confident smile and a scent of sweet flowers, leaned over Sion.
“Good morning, Alpha. What can I get you for breakfast? We have chicken noodles and fried eggs with toast.”
She punctuated her question with a deliberate glance that lingered on him. It felt like a subtle challenge to Safia, as if she had failed at keeping her husband under control.
Safia’s lips tightened. A hot, foreign spike of jealousy, mixed with a primal possessiveness she couldn’t control, shot through her, catching her completely off guard. The man beside her was barely an acquaintance, let alone a mate. She had no right to feel this.
Then why did it bother her which bitch flirted with him?
Sion leaned back, creating distance. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing toward Safia, almost tipping his head to avoid the attendant’s touch.
Why was he putting on a show as if he were truly loyal to her? Just a few days ago, he had been having sex with another wolf.
Safia, in a moment of pique, stood up and moved to the opposite row, sitting down as if the seat beside him was toxic.
The flight attendant’s smile faltered as she turned to Safia.
“Thank you, but I don’t want anything,” Safia said, her words clipped and cool, completely opposite to the fire raging inside her. She was obviously trying to act stoic. “He’s all yours.”
She offered a brittle smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
The attendant, her confidence renewed, turned back to Sion, but he raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“I have company,” he stated, his voice a quiet command, a firm warning that made the flight attendant instinctively bow her head in submission. “Next time you make an unprofessional move like that, you’ll be fired.”
His gaze softened as it shifted to Safia. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? The journey will be long.”
Her stomach rumbled, but her pride was stronger. “I know what kind of wolf you are. Don’t bother with the gentleman act. Go flirt with that slut wolf.” She motioned vaguely toward the back of the plane.
In an instant, he was beside her. He leaned in, his face close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from him.
“You don’t get to choose who I’m with,” he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine, the primal sound of a wolf asserting his claim. His eyes were like daggers, but his tone was dangerously soft. “Stay in your limits.”
Safia’s hands trembled, but her inner self refused to back down. “My words exactly,” she retorted, pointing to the small space between them. “Stay in your limits and stay away from me.”
He returned to his seat, but he didn’t move back to his original row, staying right beside her. The silence grew thick with tension and the clashing scents of their defiance.
What bothered Safia the most was that he hadn’t even called her his mate. If he had, the airhostess wouldn’t have dared to try anything. Why did that even matter to her? He had done far worse in the past. She despised him and couldn’t stand to be near him, yet a deep, nagging part of her felt rejected.
With thoughts of Sion swirling in her mind, sleep took over.
Some time later, she felt herself being lifted, then a super-soft mattress beneath her back. In her sleep, she turned, her fingers brushing against something warm and hairy. A low growl, a rumble of contentment, followed with a slight movement.
Safia’s eyes snapped open in terror.
The monster from her thoughts was right beside her, his heavy arm draped around her waist, pulling her closer. It was not a dream. He looked peaceful in his sleep, a stark contrast to the devil she knew.
How dare he touch her and sleep beside her without a shirt? The man who kicked her out of his room was now holding her. Her fury brewed into a silent storm.
She shoved his arm off and scrambled to the edge of the bed. “Who brought me here? How dare you touch me and sleep beside me?” she demanded, her voice shaking with rage.
He opened one eye, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I brought you here because you looked uncomfortable on the plane seat. And what’s wrong with sleeping beside my mate?”
“Only on paper!” she spat. “There are no paparazzi here. Stop acting like we’re in love. Next time you touch me, the result won’t be pleasing.”
A flash of anger crossed his face, and in a heartbeat he pulled her back, pinning her beneath him. His lips crashed down on hers, wild and fierce, meant to silence her and assert his dominance. He was a predator, his hands moving over her body as if he owned her.
But Safia’s wolf took over. She was no longer a whimpering pup. She bit his lip, drawing a gasp from him and the metallic scent of blood. Using that moment of surprise, she shoved him off and stood up, her chest heaving, defiance burning in her scent.
“Don’t you dare touch me like that again,” she warned, her voice low and steady, not with anger, but with cold resolve. “You may be my husband on paper, but you don’t own me.”
She walked to the door with her head held high, leaving him on the bed.
Sion pressed a hand to his bleeding lip, a flicker of genuine shock and respect crossing his eyes. He had never seen her fight back like this. He had only seen her break.
But this time, she hadn’t broken.
She had won.
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