CHAPTER 100: CHAPTER 100

Chapter 100

Kaeleen’s POV

The first thing I registered when I woke up wasn’t silence, but peace. A deep, bone-settling peace that felt as foreign and as welcome as the morning sun warming my bare skin. The light, a soft, hazy gold, filtered through the large windows of my bedroom, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets and the sleeping woman beside me.

Astrid.

She was curled on her side, facing me, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Her dark hair was a wild, beautiful mess spread across the white pillowcase, and her lips were parted in a soft, gentle sigh. The scent of her, something uniquely, intoxicatingly her, now mingled with my own, was the only air I wanted to breathe for the rest of my life. My arm was draped possessively over her waist, my hand resting on the gentle curve of her hip. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but after everything that happened yesterday, it wasn’t a surprise that she was asleep.

Last night replayed in my mind not as a series of distinct memories, but as a flood of sensation and emotion. The taste of her, the sound of her moans, the feel of her body moving with mine. The way she had looked at me, with a mixture of raw desire and complete trust. It was everything, honestly.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against the warm, smooth skin of her shoulder. She stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping her, before settling back into a deep sleep. I smiled, a real, slow, easy smile that reached my eyes.

’You’re quiet this morning,’ I sent to the beast that lived inside me.

There was a pause, not of reluctance, but of deep, rumbling contentment. ’Peace,’

was the single word Ryker sent back.

’You...this is what you’ve always wanted right?’ I asked him.

’Don’t pretend like you didn’t want it either. Now, let me bask in this peace without your disturbance.’

I chuckled at that and gave him the peace he wanted.

My gaze drifted from Astrid’s sleeping form to the wall above my bed. And there it was. Her gift.

The drawing was even more magnificent in the morning light. It was me, but it was a version of me I rarely saw myself. She hadn’t just captured my likeness; she had captured my soul. She’d drawn the Alpha, yes, the power in the set of my shoulders, the intensity in the eyes. But she had also drawn the man. The hint of a smile she always managed to coax out of me, the weariness of responsibility, and a deep, underlying kindness I rarely let anyone see. She saw all of it. She saw all of me.

A wave of possessiveness, so fierce and overwhelming it was almost dizzying, washed over me. I wanted to show the world. I wanted every person who had ever speculated about my life, every woman who had ever looked at me with calculating eyes, every business rival who saw me as nothing more than a ruthless competitor, to know that I was hers. That this woman, this incredible, quiet, fiercely passionate artist, had claimed me as completely as I had claimed her.

An idea sparked in my mind.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, I slipped out of bed. The cool morning air hit my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the sheets. I padded across the plush rug and grabbed my phone from the dresser where I’d tossed it last night.

I stood for a moment, framing the shot in my mind. I angled myself so the morning light hit the planes of my chest and stomach, making sure my tattoos were visible. I wasn’t a vain man, but I wasn’t a fool, either. I knew the kind of reaction a photo like this would get. But the most important part of the photo wasn’t me. It was the background.

I raised the phone, positioning it so my shirtless torso was in the foreground, but the magnificent drawing of my face, her drawing, was perfectly framed over my shoulder. It was intimate, revealing everything and nothing all at once. I let a small, genuine, and undeniably smug smile touch my lips and snapped the picture.

I opened my social media, my thumb hovering over the post button. I typed out a simple caption.

`Best Birthday Ever thanks to wifey.’

Then, before I could second-guess the impulse, I hit ’Post’.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, my phone vibrated. And again. And again. It didn’t stop. It began to buzz incessantly on the dresser, a frantic, angry hornet of notifications. A wide, wicked grin spread across my face. I had just dropped a bomb on the internet, and I was going to enjoy every second of the fallout.

I picked up the phone, my curiosity getting the better of me. The screen was a cascading waterfall of likes, comments, and shares. I scrolled through them, my grin widening with each one.

`@BillionaireBabe101`: Crying into my cornflakes. It’s over, girls. He’s smiling. I repeat, A REAL SMILE. We never stood a chance. 😭

`@Alexe456: Sappy.`

I laughed out loud at Alex’s predictable one-word comment.

`@Marcus_Redwood`: I know someone who can paint and draw too.

I laughed at Marcus’ comment also.

`@Rebeccamins_ter`: Oh, so THIS is what you were doing instead of answering your sister’s good morning text? I see how it is. And that drawing looks suspiciously like the one I saw in a certain artist’s studio yesterday... 😉

My sister. Of course. She couldn’t resist.

The comments were a chaotic mix of despair, speculation, and envy. Who was she? When did this happen? Was the drawing a gift? Was he really off the market?

It was perfect. I had staked my claim in the most public way possible, all without ever showing her face, protecting her privacy while simultaneously declaring to the world that she was mine.

I put the phone down, the buzzing a satisfying background hum. My attention returned to the only person in the world that truly mattered. Astrid was still sleeping, oblivious to the digital storm I had just unleashed.

She deserved to wake up to peace, not chaos. She deserved to be pampered and worshiped. I sent a quick text to the pack kitchen, my fingers flying across the screen. I was not ready to get out of this room so thank fuck I could send a text.

Within fifteen minutes, a soft knock came at the door. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and took the heavily laden tray from the young pack member, who kept his eyes respectfully lowered. I placed the tray on the small table by the window, the aroma of coffee and warm maple syrup filling the room.

I walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, just watching her breathe. The internet could have its frenzy. The world could speculate all it wanted. None of it mattered. All that mattered was right here, in this room.

Now I just needed her to wake up so we could go the next round. I mean after she has rested well...not immediately...I think.