CHAPTER 403: ALPHA’S PLAN OF DISTRACTION

Evaline:

Lioren’s little hand twitched in his sleep, his fingers curling into a tiny fist before relaxing again. His soft breathing filled the quiet room, steady and peaceful, and I couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at my lips.

Carefully, I adjusted the small blanket over his chest and brushed my fingers through his silky silver hair. He looked so much like Kieran when he slept - it was almost unfair how beautiful the two of them were.

I stayed there for a moment longer, just watching my son. After everything that had happened last night, seeing him safe and warm felt like a blessing I didn’t deserve. The memory of the rogue attack still lingered at the back of my mind - the smell of blood, the sound of River’s growl tearing through the forest, the sheer panic that had nearly frozen me in place.

But now, with the late morning sunlight spilling gently through the curtains and the soft hum of quiet safety surrounding us, the world almost felt calm again.

Almost.

I turned around, and that’s when I saw Draven leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He was watching me - no, studying me - with that warm, impossibly soft smile that had the power to melt through every last wall I had ever built.

The corners of his lips curved just a little higher when our eyes met, his expression full of quiet affection and something far more dangerous.

"Are you done tucking him in, sweetheart?" he asked, voice low and rough with that teasing undertone he always carried.

"Yes," I whispered back, glancing once more at the crib. "He’s fast asleep."

Draven nodded, his gaze softening even more as he stepped into the room. He moved with the kind of grace that made every motion seem deliberate, the predator’s poise never leaving him. The faint sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face - the strong line of his jaw, the shadows beneath his high cheekbones, the glint of mischief that sparked in his emerald eyes.

Since it was Saturday, I had expected to spend the day with Rowan and the others - some laughter, some normalcy - but the rogue attack had ruined that plan. The Academy had prohibited all students from stepping outside the grounds for the weekend, which meant my friends were stuck inside. Draven was the only exception, and that was only because he had never returned to the Academy after the previous day.

River and Kieran were away for council meeting, and Oscar was busy overseeing security around the Academy and the rogue community territories. That left just me, Draven, and Lioren here at the house.

The quiet felt strange. So did the stillness.

I had planned to spend the morning reviewing the soul death case files Kieran gave me earlier in the week. Rowan and I were supposed to go through them together, but that plan no longer made sense. After everything that had happened, I didn’t want to think about dead bodies or missing souls. Not today.

Today, I wanted peace. I wanted something warm, something that reminded me I was still safe.

And maybe that’s why when I looked back at Draven and found him watching me with that precious, tender expression, I didn’t even hesitate before walking straight into his arms.

He caught me effortlessly, like he had been waiting for it.

His arms wrapped around me, firm and sure, pulling me against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palm - steady, strong, reassuring.

"I didn’t think I would ever get used to this," he murmured against my hair. "You, in my arms. You, looking at me like this."

I laughed softly, though the sound came out more like a sigh. "You say that like you haven’t been trying to make me look at you all week."

His hand slid up my back, fingers tracing the line of my spine until my skin tingled. "I have," he admitted, his voice dipping into that dangerously low tone that always made my pulse skip. "But it’s still never enough."

"Draven..."

He hummed in response, one brow lifting slightly as his eyes darkened, the playful gleam deepening into something else... something hungry. "Yes, love?"

"You are doing it again."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Doing what?"

"Flirting," I said, trying not to smile.

He grinned, slow and devastating. "I call it distracting."

"Distracting me from what?"

"From overthinking. From worrying. From remembering what happened last night."

The breath caught in my throat. Because he was right. I had been thinking too much, too often.

But before I could respond, his hand moved again - this time up to my neck, his thumb brushing the underside of my jaw in a touch so light it sent a shiver racing down my spine.

"Let me distract you properly then," he whispered.

And then his lips were on mine.

The kiss started slow - careful, almost reverent - as though he was afraid I would pull away. But when I didn’t, when I leaned into him instead, he deepened it. His fingers tangled in my hair, angling my face up as his mouth claimed mine with a heat that left me breathless.

He kissed like he fought - intense, consuming, completely unguarded. Every movement of his lips, every slide of his breath against mine felt like fire meeting air.

My hands found his shoulders first, gripping his shirt, but then they were moving - tracing the lines of his muscles, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. His scent surrounded me - smoke and rain, wild forests and something purely him.

He pulled back only long enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breathing uneven, his eyes glinting with something feral. "You are trembling," he said softly.

"So are you."

That earned me a grin. "That’s because you drive me insane."

He kissed me again, harder this time. There was no hesitation now - only hunger and something so deep it almost scared me. The world blurred around us, and the only things that existed were his hands and my heartbeat and the heat spreading through every inch of my body.

When he finally slowed, his lips lingered near mine, his breath mixing with mine in the quiet.

"Draven," I whispered.

He hummed in response, still too close, his gaze flicking down to my lips again.

I swallowed, feeling my chest rise and fall too fast. My voice trembled slightly as I said, "I want you to mark me."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy, electric.

For a second, he didn’t move. His hand froze where it rested on my waist, his eyes widening slightly as though he hadn’t heard me right.

And then, slowly, very slowly, he lifted his gaze back to mine.

"What-did you just say?" He whispered.

I met his stare, unflinching despite the fluttering inside my chest. "I want you to mark me, Draven."

Something shifted in his expression then - a flash of emotion so raw it made my heart ache. Shock. Desire. Love. And something else I couldn’t quite name.

He exhaled shakily, the sound somewhere between a growl and a prayer.

"Eva..."

My name on his lips felt like a promise, like the beginning of something we could never take back.

And for once, I didn’t want to take it back.

Not this time.

Not with him.

Not ever.

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek as his voice dropped to a low, trembling whisper. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Yes."

His lips curved, a mix of awe and reverence shadowing his features. And for a heartbeat, the entire world stood still - caught in the silence between his breath and mine, between the pounding of our hearts.

Then his hand slid down to the back of my neck, his fingers grazing the place where his mark would soon be.

And my breath caught, knowing that this moment - this decision - was the one that would change everything.

Forever.