Chapter 130 - One day before the ritual - Part 1

The singing of the birds woke me up from my slumber, slowly and softly pulling me away from the world of my dreams. Their songs were rhythmic and cheerful, a soothing melody to my ears. They were ready to meet the day, so very in love and mesmerized by the sun glistening in the sky while I was still struggling to open my eyes.

The day started warm, in contrast to the cold I had slept through the night before. Every morning when I woke up, I couldn't help but realize how lucky I was to be able to feel the comfort and warmth of my bed. It was something I used to long for, something that was too luxurious and grand for me to have. 

Sleep used to be the only thing I could look forward to throughout the day, as I wouldn't have to deal with the humiliation and mockery that people used to heap on me while I was sleeping. I'd just let my consciousness drift away and wished that I could sleep longer—longer than anyone could have ever imagined.

Even so, nightmares would occasionally come to my sleep, waking me up from one nightmare to another nightmare called reality. I was treated no less than an animal, but there was nothing I could ever do about it. All that I could do was hold out—for reasons I didn't even realize I had.

My life was a living hell, a life in which I'd either be beaten in the underground room or locked in the attic. But now, when I look back, all of those things seem so far away. The life I'm living right now feels so much like a dream that I'm afraid I'll eventually wake up from it—but Luke always reminded me that it was not a dream. 

His soft and tender voice, his gentle and teasing touches, his warm and loving gaze. Though all of those felt very surreal, they were, in fact, real. The uncontrollable heart and buŧŧerflies in my stomach told me so, and I was more than glad to have them as proof of the realness of the situation. 

Though I desperately want to sleep for a few more minutes, I'm already too far away from my dreams to do as such. It was time to greet the day, to confront whatever misfortune lay ahead.

Successfully regaining my consciousness, I fluttered my eyes open, seeing how the room was dimly lit by the sunlight that seeped through the window blind. I could feel something heavy holding me down from the moment I woke up, and now I finally know what was wrong that made me unable to move even an inch away. It was Luke. 

The man had wrapped me around his arms, and then wrapped us both together under the thick duvet. I was sandwiched between him and the duvet, hence why I couldn't move. While there was nothing wrong with him hugging me, there was one thing that was very wrong. He was shirtless, and there was nothing I could do to get away from his bȧrė ċhėst.

Why was he shirtless in the middle of winter?! 

The room was warm but not warm enough for people to go around shirtless—I mean, most human. I've always known that he was ripped, but that fact was made even clearer by the proximity I had to his holy muscles. Rather than his two eyes, I was met with his two protruding ċhėst muscles. 

I never expected to see his two small mountains the first thing in the morning.

I tried to break free from his embrace, but he'd wrapped his arms so tightly around me that I couldn't possibly move without waking him up. Why is he so strong even when asleep? I moved my eyes away from his ċhėst to his eyes, noticing that they were still closed. 

Should I wake him up? But it wasn't even late in the morning, and I wanted him to sleep a little longer. He'd been working way too hard right after we got home, and I was worried he'd be too exhausted. He wasn't the type to open up about his problems and flaws. Maybe it was because he was an Alpha and didn't want to appear weak—or perhaps because he didn't want me to be worried about him.

But, just as he wanted me to tell him more about my feelings, I wanted him to do the same. Not only when he was feeling happy or good, but also when he was sad or troubled. Isn't that why people choose to stay with someone else? To rely on each other. We'd have someone to celebrate with when something good happens, and we'd have someone who'd console us when something bad happens. 

At least, that was what I got after reading some books. 

There were quite a few books in which they talked elaborately about love, and I might have gotten one thing or two from them. Love, as they say, is the most wonderful feeling one could ever feel in their life. They said love was like the feeling of coming home after a long day, the comforting and warm sensation you get after a good, delicious meal. 

They said being in love was when someone began to take up space in your mind, and when someone became the first thing you thought about when you woke up and the last thing you thought about before going to bed.

Love is the trust you put in someone, despite living in a cold and harsh world. It was a place of refuge, a place for you to heal from your pain, and a place for you to grow. It was a feeling like no other, and it was always more about the other person than yourself. Love is being selfless, being comfortable, and being true to yourself and the other person. 

If all of that was love, then... I might be in love. I'm in love with this man, whose ċhėst is very much bȧrė in front of my eyes—and is shamelessly pretending to be asleep.

"I know you're awake." 

A chuckle quickly came from him, his voice deeper than usual. His pearly teeth showed up, but he kept his red eyes closed. "How did you know?" 

"I can see your eyes moving under your eyelids," I tried to move my hand but forgot that I couldn't move. "Can you let go of me now?" 

"Why? Are you not enjoying the sight you're having right now?" he asked, and I couldn't think of anything to say in response to his shameless question. "That's strange. I'm sure most women, not to mention men, would die to be in your place right now."

I found it rather irritating that he was aware that he was attractive, and it was like nothing could save anyone from this man's shamelessness and cheekiness. Not even himself. 

"Don't worry, though," he added, his grin only becoming wider. At least he was starting the day with a smile. "The seat is exclusively reserved for you, my one and only mate." 

"I'm not worried," I said, rolling my eyes. And it was the truth. I'm not worried that he'll later find another woman because that would almost certainly be impossible. Well, based on everything he's done for me, I know he genuinely loves me and will only look at me.

"I'm just worried that you'll catch a cold in this weather," this time, a lie. I knew for a fact that it was almost impossible for him to catch a cold with his werewolf body. "You should wear your shirt. It's... distracting me." I mean, his muscles.

Can I really be honest about this too? 

"Why, isn't that wonderful?" Instead of letting me go, he held me tighter. His musky scent came crashing into my nose, and I soon found myself getting dizzy from it. "I don't mind you getting distracted by my muscles. They're here for a reason, aren't they?" 

"I—I mind!" I struggled in his arms, but he only laughed at my struggles. "It's not appropriate for a lady to... to be distracted by your muscles. I-I mean, they're nice, but, " I stammered, not even knowing what I was trying to say right now, "J-just get your muscles away from me!!" 

"But I'm feeling rather lazy to move," He snuggled closer, breathing in my scent. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer by the second, my eyes looking anywhere but at the muscles that were so very clearly displayed in front of me. Should I relax my neck, I'd be leaning against his bȧrė ċhėst again. "I think I'm going to go back to sleep." 

"You can't!!" I desperately wriggled around, disturbing him from going back to sleep. "At least let me go first before you go back to sleep!!"

Without even opening his eyes, that same smug smirk that I've seen so many times came back upon his annoyingly handsome face, irritating me even more. 

"Kiss me, and I'll wake up."