I am Daria [18+]

eighteen

KIND OF NOT EDITED

I instantly regretted it, because in his eyes I saw mine, and in that moment, that whiff of a moment, it seemed that we were ultimately inevitable.

I broke eye contact and moved away from his intimidating presence. Although the room was spacious, his scent was everywhere. It was, at best, claustrophobic.

I was wearing a long-sleeved dress that fell on my knees. It was comfortable, covered, but his gaze left me feeling exposed.

I rounded my father's desk and stood next to his chair. At least there was some kind of barrier between us now.

Judging by the deafening silence, I doubted that he was going to put his mouth to use and explain exactly why he was here right now.

My eyes fell on the papers on the desk. My brows knit together as I skimmed over them.

"Unbelievable," I said under my breath. Picking up the documents, I held it up. "Trading land and exchanging gossip already?"

I didn't wait for him to respond. "Was this the plan all along? Was I a political pawn to more power? By having me, you gain access to more lands and my father gets to add your warriors to his already large army?"

His pack was one of very few that were independent. Packs like his took pride in being on their own and not needing to be dependent on the Royals' riches. In a way, independent packs' leaders were considered a kind of royalty as well, because of how they ruled and what they stood for.

"I assure you, it is much more complicated than that."

Once again, the deepness of his voice astounded me.

"I doubt it," I said. "You got greedy and my father was always power-hungry." I laughed. "God, you two really are something, aren't you?"

The Alpha clenched his jaw. It seemed like he wasn't going to give me a reaction. I decided to push. Maybe he'd break.

"You are not even denying it. Imprinting on a twelve-year old, all for assets and a seat at the table," I scoffed. The thought didn't sit right with my stomach.

"There's more to it than that," he grounded out, sounding irritated and angry.

"Sure."

I clutched my churning stomach with one hand and rested the other one on the desk. I winced when my stomach contracted painfully.

"What is it?" The question came off-handedly, but I heard the concern dripping from it.

My jaw clenched as another uncomfortable jab poked my insides. Ugh, these pills.

The Alpha was closer now. "What is it?"

I think it was his version of asking What is wrong, where are you hurt? Out of concern for my wellbeing because of what was at stake for him, if not for anything else.

"Princess. . ."

When I groaned again and failed to answer him, he seemed to have lost his patience with me. "I'm getting medical assistance."

"Mind your own business," I spat, then stood up straight. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You don't look fine to me."

My eyes narrowed. "I don't care how I appear to you."

His nostrils flared and I felt a wave of satisfaction conquering my entire body. I was getting to him. He was cracking.

But not yet breaking. And that's what I wanted more than anything.

My stomach settled and I rounded the desk, eyeing him.