Page 35 of Forsaken Desire (Ruthless Wolves #1)

I yawned, stretching my arms out and my legs out like a starfish. How long had we slept for?

“Lucian?” I mumbled. He wasn’t in bed. With a final stretch of my limbs, I pushed up onto my ass, enjoying the twinge I felt as I settled onto it. The silky sheet pooled at my waist, exposing my breasts.

I was still raw and aching from my claiming, but the soreness from my neck had significantly tapered. A black T-shirt was on the edge of the bed, with a piece of paper folded in half on top of it.

I plucked it, immediately opening it.

I’ll be home soon, Princess. I left your breakfast downstairs. Eat.

Lucian

My heart jumped, and I grinned, laying back on the bed. He was so cute. I squeezed my eyes tight, kicking my feet.

Get it together, Joey .

I exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the flutters in my stomach. Once I was upright, I pulled the shirt on and grabbed my phone resting under it.

Lucian was liable to make my heart stop if he kept being so amazing. I slid off the bed and put on my slippers. I couldn’t help the slight skip to my step as I descended the stairs.

I trailed my fingers over the banister until the bulbous end and shuffled down the hall that spat me out in the foyer, then took the other path leading to the kitchen.

With every step, I swung my arms to stretch my muscles. Where had he gone?

A clear cloche covered a large plate with fruit and pancakes, a small pot of syrup beside it. I lifted the handle, uncovering it, and it released steam. He’d even covered the orange juice with a small saucer. I plopped on the chair, grinning at the spread.

The juice was the first to go. I chugged it down, the slightly sour taste coating my tongue.

I wrinkled my nose a bit and swallowed again to push the taste down.

It was almost like one of the oranges hadn’t been ready.

It was still good though; it was definitely freshly squeezed.

I’d had enough artificial drinks to know the difference.

With my fork in hand, I got to eating my fruit. Then scarfed down the sausage, leaving the pancakes for last. I’d missed eating like this . . .

I frowned—another thought from my memories.

A pulse in my temple started up.

I was getting a migraine.

An echoing bang came from close by. Excitement filled my stomach, and I stood.

“Lucian?” I called. There was no answer. The silence felt off.

The hair on the back of my neck rose. Something was off. I plucked my phone from the counter.

Was that you pulling up?

I stared at the screen for a few beats, hoping the little bubbles would pop up to show he was messaging me. He was always quick to contact me whenever I reached out to him.

I chewed on my lip.

Footsteps thudded down the hall, nearing. I had such a bad feeling about this. I grabbed the butter knife, clenching it in my hand.

“Who’s there?”

Nothing.

Whoever it was finally stepped out. The first thing I saw was a black hoodie covering a slim frame.

“Cierra.” I frowned.

“Josephine,” she drawled.

I clenched my teeth. She shouldn’t be here.

“The Alpha isn’t here,” I said icily. Her face started to blur. I blinked to clear my vision.

“I know.”

My shoulder muscles tightened. Fuck. I squeezed the knife harder, but my fingers were starting to feel numb.

It took a lot more effort than before to lift my phone.

She slowly approached me. No smile, no smugness, but her chin was up.

She plucked the phone from my hand with ease, and I struggled to grab it again.

“He won’t come in time,” she murmured and turned off the phone, setting it on the table.

The kitchen spun, and I staggered back, pushing my hip into the table. I slapped the butter knife on the surface, having to so I could balance myself.

While I blinked and struggled to shake off the cloudiness of my thoughts, she just stared at the spread of food.

“He made you breakfast.” She squeezed her lips into a thin line, staring at the prepared food.

I panted and my arm gave out until my cheek was flush to the table. My legs still worked, but my hands wouldn’t hold me up. I stared at her from my vantage point. She shoved the ceramic plate off the table, and it hit the floor. “And you’re wearing his clothes.”

She leaned close.

“Did he fuck you raw, too?”

Bruises and cuts lined her face from the challenge. She’d been close to dead. I shouldn’t have stopped it.

“What do you want?” I croaked.

“My life back,” she hissed.

She’s going to kill me .