CHAPTER 43: _ CASUAL TALKING

Heidi’s breathing is still uneven. Her chest is rising and falling as if it hasn’t yet decided whether it belongs to her or him. He wants to talk and she’s not sure she’s ready to hear whatever it is, so she stalls.

Maybe because a part of her knows that this night is going to end in rejection. Not that she would want it any other way though... Right?

Darien lies beside her on his side, one arm propped under his head, watching her like he’s got all the time in the world to unravel her. The weight of his gaze makes her pulse pick up again. It’s not the desperate race from before, but a slower, more conscious rhythm that feels like it’s crawling down her spine.

He drags the pad of his thumb over the curve of her collarbone in the laziest and most possessive way Heidi has ever felt. "Still can’t look at me for more than three seconds without blushing. What’s going on in that head of yours, omega?"

Ouch. How crude. How... bloody blunt!

She swallows and turns her face slightly toward the pillow. "Nothing."

"Mm. Liar." His hand dips, tracing her ribs like he’s counting them. "You think I can’t tell when you’re lying? Your pulse is jumping. Here..." he presses two fingers to the hollow of her throat "...see? Thudding like you’ve just been caught doing something you shouldn’t."

"I’m not..."

"You are." His tone leaves no room for argument, but there’s no cruelty in it. Just certainty. The kind that makes her want to curl into herself and shove him away at the same time.

She huffs, trying to move onto her side, but his arm snakes around her waist, pulling her back against him. "Not done with you yet," he says, almost conversationally.

Her stomach twists. "We already..."

"I know," he cuts in, lips brushing her ear. "But I’m not talking about sex. I said we need to talk."

Of course, now he wants to talk when she’s still wrapped around him like a half-melted popsicle. Heidi blinks up at him, trying to remember how to be a functioning human being after... whatever all that sex was. Her brain feels like a dryer with too many socks in it... Things are spinning, and none of them match.

She opens her mouth, probably to say What exactly do you mean talk...

but he’s already watching her like she’s about to give him a wrong answer on a pop quiz.

"So," he says slowly, still tracing absent patterns down her thigh like this is casual pillow talk and not post-apocalyptic sex aftermath, "what do you want to do after this?"

Her brows knit. "After this what?"

"This... situation," he says, gesturing vaguely between them like the situation is just him, her, and the fact that the sheets are barely hanging on to the bed. "As for the traffickers, I already saw their faces, so I guess our deal is done. I’ll track them down and bring them to my father. Though..."

His mouth quirks, like he’s amused by the thought. "...I doubt they’ll ever come back to school since they realize I’ve seen them. Doesn’t mean I still won’t track those bastards and make them regret ever daring to lay a single finger on you."

If Heidi doesn’t know better, she can swear that he actually means it and cares when he says that. With the way the veins on his forehead propped forward and his fists clenched.

She sighs. "That’s it? Problem solved? Just like that?"

"Yeah." He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "And you helped. Whether you realize it or not."

A little warmth blooms in her chest. It’s probably relief, and maybe pride, but she plays it off with a shrug. "Well, I’m glad it’s over. And I’m glad I helped save some students."

His gaze sharpens. "Speaking of helping... I’m going to keep giving you my protection."

Wait... what?! Did Darien Bellamy just offer to keep on helping her even when there’s nothing in it for him? Her eyes spark with disbelief and she finds herself laughing in his face. "I’m sorry, what?"

"You heard me. Consider it... compensation for your help. If you’re in trouble, you can keep calling me."

Her mouth falls open. "You’re saying... I can just call you? Anytime? For anything?"

"Yes." He says it without hesitation, like it’s a binding contract.

Her brain takes a hard left turn. Speaking of calls... The phone he gave her...

"Wait—when you rescued me... did you see the phone you gave me?"

"Yes." His answer is immediate. "It’s broken."

Her stomach drops like someone just cut the elevator cables. "Broken? As in... not fixable?"

He nods once.

She lets out a groan that sounds more like a dying animal. How can she be so careless as to ruin his phone?

"Then you can’t help me anymore. Not unless I... what, borrow someone else’s phone every time I need to call you? That’s not exactly subtle. And erm... sorry for breaking your silence phone."

"Who says I can’t just get you a new one?"

She blinks at him like he’s suggested buying her a small country. "That’s too much. I can’t accept that."

He scoffs with so much arrogance and male pride. "Heidi, I could get you fifty phones if I wanted to."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Fifty?"

"You have no idea how rich my family is. Or the net worth of me and each of my siblings."

She gives him a flat look. "You’re actually bragging right now."

"I’m just stating facts," he says with a shrug.

She rolls her eyes. "Show-off."

He chuckles, leaning back like this is the best conversation he’s had all week. "Well, you’re a Castell now. Which means you’re rich too."

Her smile fades instantly. "You’re talking like you don’t know how things work in this pack. I’m a Castell by assignment, not blood."

That dulls the air between them. The room feels heavier, like a cloud drifted in and sat down right on her chest.

His eyes search hers for a second too long, then he exhales through his nose and changes the subject like someone who knows exactly when they’ve stepped into emotional quicksand.

"So... about that trouble at home..."

Trouble at home? She didn’t tell him about any, did she?