Feral Bonds: Claimed By Rogue Alpha Brothers

Evaline:

The room was quiet except for the faint ticking of the wall clock. I stood frozen, my hand still on the knob, staring at River as though he had grown a second head.

He stared back at me, his unreadable green eyes holding mine with unnerving steadiness. I wanted to speak, ask him why he was here, and why he was looking at me like that... but my lips refused to form words. My heart hammered against my ribcage, echoing in my ears louder than anything else.

Finally, it was him who broke the silence.

"Are you going to let me in, Miss Evaline," he asked quietly, his voice carrying that low intensity only he could pull off, "or should I stand here all night?"

The words startled me into action. Quickly, I stepped aside, pulling the door wider. He brushed past me, and the air around me shifted as if the entire room shrank in size just from his presence.

Among the brothers, he had rarely come into my room before - except for once or twice during Christmas but that too in his brothers' presence - and now, seeing him step inside alone felt… different. Intimate. Too intimate.

I hesitated for a moment before following him in, leaving the door open behind me. My feet carried me a step behind him, my senses alert, as though I needed to prepare for whatever mood he was in tonight.

He stopped abruptly, turning around to face me. His sharp gaze flicked toward the open door, and then back to me. His eyebrows arched ever so slightly, the kind of look that said without words - You are really going to leave it open?

The silent judgment burned hotter than if he had spoken it out loud. I swallowed and said nothing.

And in the next instant, he took a step closer.

My breath caught, and instinctively, I took one back.

He followed with another step.

Again, I retreated, my pulse quickening.

"What's wrong?" his voice was calm, almost probing. "Worried I might do something to you?"

The question caught me off-guard. My lips parted, but no words came out. What could I say? That maybe, deep down, I was afraid of him? That my instincts screamed to never be cornered by him, and yet… here I was, cornered willingly?

He didn't give me time to sort through my scrambled thoughts. He took another step forward.

And another.

My back brushed against the wall, cold against my spine. I stiffened, realizing too late that I had let myself be trapped.

He planted both hands against the wall, one on each side of me, caging me in. His presence was suffocating, his scent filling my senses. He leaned forward, closing the distance until just a few breaths of space separated us.

"Not running anymore?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low murmur that curled through my chest like smoke.

I finally lifted my eyes to his, ready to throw some retort at him, something sharp enough to slice through the tension. But the words never left me. Instead, a sharp cry escaped my lips, completely unbidden.

He immediately straightened, alarm flashing across his usually composed face. "What is it?" he demanded.

I looked down... automatically, instinctively... at my belly. His eyes followed mine, and for once, I had the upper hand in startling him.

"It's not me," I whispered through a shaky breath. "It's… the baby. It just kicked."

The silence that followed was heavy. For two heartbeats, he only stared, his expression stunned. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Then, as though something inside him shifted, he dropped to one knee in front of me.

I froze, my heart climbing into my throat as his hand hovered uncertainly just above my stomach. His eyes lifted to mine, silently asking for permission.

My throat worked as I swallowed, nodding slowly.

He placed his palm gently over my small bump.

We both waited, suspended in that fragile moment. And then... there it was. A soft movement beneath my skin.

My eyes darted to him instantly, but his face didn't change. He only shook his head slightly, as if disappointed. My brows knit in confusion, but before I could question him, instinct took over.

I reached down, took his hand, and slipped it beneath the hem of my sweater. His skin touched mine, hot against my belly, and we both inhaled sharply at the contact. His hand was broad, slightly calloused, and strangely grounding.

And then... the baby kicked again.

This time, River felt it.

I didn't expect the way his eyes widened, didn't expect the slow, breathtaking smile that curved his lips. For a second, the icy, unreadable River was gone, replaced by a man whose green eyes shimmered with awe and emotion so raw it stunned me into silence.

He looked at me, then back down at my belly, his thumb unconsciously brushing over the curve of my skin as if trying to memorize the moment. His lips parted, but he didn't speak. He didn't need to. His expression said enough.

It was acceptance.

It was wonder.

It was… warmth.

I had thought that Oscar or Draven would be the ones to show such open affection toward the baby first. But River? I hadn't expected this from him.

Before I could gather my thoughts, before emotions could overtake me, he pulled back, standing fluidly, his face sliding back into its usual guarded calm. He slipped his hands into his pockets and tilted his head slightly.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked, his tone so casual I almost choked.

"What?" I blinked, dumbfounded.

"Dinner," he repeated, watching me with a neutral expression. "What do you want to eat?"

I stared at him as though he had spoken in another language. A second ago, he was kneeling at my stomach, touching my skin, smiling at my baby's kick... and now he was asking about food?

"Are… are you going to cook?" I asked hesitantly.

To my shock, he nodded.

I blinked. "You… cook?"

One of his brows lifted in challenge. "Surprised?"

"Well, yes," I admitted honestly. "I mean… maybe not."

That earned me the faintest twitch of his lips. "I can cook."

I bit my lower lip, hesitant. "I'm not picky. Anything's fine."

He gave a single nod, as if that was all he needed. Then, without waiting, he turned and walked toward the door. Over his shoulder, he added, "Come with me. I want some company while cooking."

And for reasons I couldn't fully explain, my feet moved after him without hesitation.