Sofia's POV:
I dashed away from him, adjusting my clothes and clearing my throat as I stood like a soldier preparing for war. My heart was racing, but I masked it with anger.
I expected him to apologize—at least for touching my ass without consent.
But he was too full of himself. He adjusted his shirt calmly and sat up, not a trace of remorse in his eyes.
He stared at me for a few seconds before looking away.
"Can't you say sorry?" I asked sharply, my voice trembling with restrained fury.
He stood from the bed and walked toward me—slowly, deliberately.
I didn't know what he was up to, but something about him felt dangerous. My instincts screamed at me to run, yet my legs wouldn't move fast enough. I took a cautious step back, but he kept advancing.
Step by step, until my back hit the cold wall. There was nowhere left to go.
He stopped just inches from my face, his scent washing over me—fresh, masculine, intoxicating.
I turned my face away and shut my eyes, praying for a miracle. A guard barging in. A power outage. Anything.
Then, he leaned in, so close I could feel his breath on my ear. "When you're done, come out and eat," he whispered, his voice smooth like honey. I caught a hint of a smile on his lips, and somehow, it disarmed me.
I opened my eyes, and our gazes locked.
Why did he have to be this handsome?
Maybe I'd been too tired or angry to notice before, but now it hit me—he was dangerously beautiful.
Still, no one compared to my ex-husband.
"Don't take too long," he added, then walked out like nothing had happened.
My stomach growled in protest. I hadn't eaten since afternoon, and I was running on fumes.
If I didn't eat soon, I might collapse.
I walked out, and the vast hallway felt like a maze. The mansion was too big, too intimidating.
Just when I was about to give up, a maid appeared. "This way, ma," she said politely, guiding me with a slight bow.
Thank heavens she showed up—without her, I'd still be wandering around like a ghost.
When we reached the dining room, Adem was already at the table, cutting into his chicken like nothing in the world bothered him.
"What took you so long?" he asked, not even looking at me properly.
I ignored his tone, pulled out a chair, and started eating. I wasn't about to starve for the sake of pride.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed the maids were watching me. Maybe I was eating too fast, but I didn't care. Hunger had no manners.
I caught the eyes of the maid standing behind Adem. I smiled politely. She quickly looked away, embarrassed.
After the meal, I headed straight to my room. I didn't even take off my clothes—I just dropped onto the bed. Before I knew it, sleep swallowed me whole.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed into my eyes, waking me slowly. I yawned and stretched, dragging myself out of bed with a groggy sigh.
The bathroom was already prepared—towels, soap, even a fresh robe. It was like they knew my every move.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and stepped out of the room. The same maid from yesterday was waiting at the door.
"Good morning, ma," she greeted with a bow. "After breakfast, we've prepared for your coronation."
Coronation?
I blinked at her in confusion. Why was she so cheerful?
I didn't like the sound of any of it. My gut told me to run.
"I don't feel like eating," I lied quickly, hoping to escape this whole 'party' talk.
Her smile faltered. "Oh, ma… what's wrong? Are you sick? Did something happen?" she asked, clearly alarmed.
She looked genuinely worried—and a little scared, like she thought she'd be blamed if something was wrong with me.
"Nothing serious. I just need rest today," I mumbled.
But instead of backing off, she laughed.
I frowned. What exactly was funny?
"Ma, I can tell you're not sick. You just don't want to attend the coronation," she said, grinning like she'd caught me in a lie.
Why did this girl have to act like a doctor for my fake symptoms?
"I'm serious," I groaned, holding both my head and stomach in mock pain. "I need rest."
But she didn't buy it.
"Come with me," she insisted. "You'll feel better after eating."
I sighed. There was no escape.
At the dining table, Adem didn't even glance up. He ate in silence like I didn't exist.
The entire room felt like a graveyard—quiet, cold, suffocating.
Once breakfast was over, I headed to my room… or at least tried to.
But I noticed someone following me. The footsteps matched mine. I sped up. So did they.
As I stepped into the room, the person followed right in.
I turned around—only to see Adem closing the door behind him.
Why was he acting like some obsessive shadow?
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, walking in and sitting casually on my bed.
His tone was serious, his gaze piercing.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, pretending to be clueless.
He didn't fall for it. He stared directly into my eyes. "Do you want to talk about yourself?"
I dodged his question and crossed my arms. "Did you plan the coronation? Because I'm not ready to marry anyone."
He smiled. But it didn't reach his eyes.
"What's funny?" I asked, clearly annoyed.
"I'm not begging you to marry me," he said coolly. "You must marry me."
What?
I nearly choked. "You must be joking," I said, stepping back, glaring at him for clarity.
He didn't even blink. "Why can't we talk about you first? Maybe I'll change my mind after you give me two kids."
I burst out laughing—partly out of disbelief, partly out of rage. He laughed too, like we were sharing a private joke.
"It's funny, right?" he teased, still chuckling.
I clenched my fists, ready to punch him across the face when—
A knock interrupted.
He got up and opened the door. A guard stepped in, urgency in his voice.
"Your Majesty, Riverside Pack has been attacked… and they're getting closer to our pack."