Too Late To Regret, My Alphas

Rosalie:

Before I could even process the fact that my feet were no longer touching the floor, Zaiden had already carried me the few short steps toward the long wooden cabinet built against the wall beneath the painting.

One of his hands remained securely around my waist while the other reached behind me, calmly sweeping a decorative tray, a stack of books, and a crystal vase farther along the cabinet to make enough room. Nothing crashed onto the floor. Nothing dramatic happened. He simply shifted everything aside with the same composed precision he seemed to use for every little thing in life before carefully setting me down on the smooth wooden surface.

Sitting there brought me almost perfectly to his height, leaving our eyes level for the first time. I barely had enough time to steady myself before he stepped closer. His hands settled lightly on either side of my thighs, and as he unconsciously encouraged my legs apart just enough for him to stand between them, the oversized black shirt rode a little higher along my legs before bunching around the tops of my thighs.

My breath caught in my throat. There was nothing forceful about the movement. If anything, he paused afterward as though silently asking whether I wanted him to stay exactly where he was. I never asked him to move away.

The room became impossibly quiet.

Outside, the fading sunlight painted the bedroom in shades of amber while the breeze gently stirred the curtains near the glass wall, but inside that tiny space between us, none of it seemed to exist anymore. All I could hear was my own heartbeat and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

His face was only inches from mine now, close enough that the warmth of his breath brushed softly across my cheeks every time he exhaled. His gray eyes searched mine with an intensity that made my pulse race faster than any training session ever had.

For a long moment, he simply looked at me, almost as though he was trying to memorize every tiny expression crossing my face. Then his voice, deeper and rougher than I had ever heard it before, finally broke the silence. "Do you have any idea," he asked quietly, "what you are doing to me, dear mate?"

I should have answered immediately. I should have said something sensible. Instead, my mind betrayed me completely. My wolf was practically pacing beneath my skin, filling my thoughts with warmth and an overwhelming certainty that the man standing in front of me belonged beside me. The mate bond only made matters worse, humming softly through every nerve until even breathing felt difficult.

It was a chaotic symphony of instinct and emotion, a flood of possessive need and ancient longing that made my vision blur at the edges, making me feel as though I was drowning in the scent of him, in the sight of his mouth, and in the dark promise of his hands.

The bond was a living thing, a tether that pulled tight with every breath he took, screaming at me to yield, to submit, to claim him back.

Somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, my hands lifted of their own accord. I didn’t consciously decide to touch him. They simply found the open collar of his shirt, my fingers curling into the expensive fabric until tiny wrinkles appeared beneath my grip.

Whether I pulled him closer or leaned toward him myself, I honestly couldn’t tell anymore. The distance between us somehow became even smaller. His eyes had darkened so much that only the faintest ring of gray remained visible around his pupils, and for one dangerous moment I forgot every lesson I had ever taught myself about staying careful with my heart.

A tiny smile, nervous and impossibly soft, found my lips despite the way my pulse thundered inside my ears. "I don’t think..." I whispered, my voice barely louder than the evening breeze slipping through the window, "...I’m doing anything that crazy." My gaze never left his. "You are still in control."

The words came out gentler than I intended, carrying more honesty than teasing. My fingers slowly loosened their hold on his collar before wandering upward almost timidly until they brushed through the soft strands of hair near his temple. The dark locks slipped effortlessly between my fingers. I had always thought they were too short.

Tilting my head ever so slightly, I found myself looking beyond his eyes for just a second, imagining him with longer hair falling around his shoulders. The picture appeared so vividly inside my mind that I smiled without realizing it.

"I think you would look good with long hair," I murmured, almost to myself.

His expression changed. Not dramatically. Just enough for me to notice. The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, but it wasn’t the smile that stole my breath. It was the tenderness that quietly settled inside his eyes, replacing the fierce intensity from moments before with something infinitely softer.

His gaze dropped briefly toward my lips before returning to my eyes as though asking a question he wasn’t willing to put into words. My own breathing had become shallow, and yet I couldn’t find it in myself to look away. My wolf fell completely silent now, not because she had calmed down, but because she seemed just as captivated as I was by the man standing before us.

Neither of us spoke again. There was nothing left to say.

Time itself seemed to slow as Zaiden lifted one hand from my waist and gently brushed a damp strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips lingered against my cheek for the briefest heartbeat before sliding away.

My pulse skipped so hard it almost hurt. He searched my face one final time, making absolutely certain I wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t afraid, wasn’t hesitating. Only after finding his answer in my eyes did he finally move.

Ever so slowly... he closed the last small distance between us.

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