DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT...

Simeon stepped out of the car, holding Irene in his arms. The butler, who had served his family for more than five years, bowed respectfully and said, "Welcome, Alpha Simeon."

Simeon barely nodded to acknowledge the greeting as he took Irene inside. She was asleep.

She had fallen asleep during the ride. Simeon couldn't help but smile as he looked at her peaceful face. He then walked into the house, where his mother was waiting.

His mother smiled broadly at him. He knew that smile... was the one she wore when she had to tell him something that might make him feel a little awkward. Simeon had come to recognize it over the years.

"Well, Simeon," she said, "I'm so glad to see you and Irene coming home together. Did she take my advice to come home with you? Hmm, she's asleep in your arms. I can say, Simeon, this is the first time I've seen such intimate contact between the two of you."

She walked up to him and stood with her gaze fixed on Irene's sleeping face. Simeon nodded slightly and kept his expression neutral; his face was deadpan.

"Yes, she slept in the car," he answered in a flat tone.

His mother nodded in understanding. "She's asleep. Take her to your room."

Simeon nodded and started upstairs with Irene when his mother tapped his shoulder.

"No, no, no," she insisted. "Take her into your room."

Simeon furrowed one eyebrow but remained calm. "Why?"

"You think I don't know? You've both been sleeping separately for some time now. Irene doesn't like you, but you like her. You need to try harder to win her heart. Why the cold, indifferent attitude you're putting on? I'm your mother. I gave birth to you, and I know you better than you know yourself."

Simeon looked away from his mother, his eyes betraying him for a moment as they flashed with discomfort. She was right. She always knew him well—more than his wife, at least.

"Alright, mother," he replied, his voice still flat.

His mother nodded, as if she had already won the argument. Sharp. He knew she thought him ignorant about courting a woman. He could practically see her doing the math in her head, but he let it go. They were both aware of what was going on, yet they acted like anything but that.

Simeon carried Irene gingerly up the stairs, careful not to bump her around in his arms. A passing maid bowed respectfully.

"Alpha Simeon, may I help you take the young lady to her room?"

Simeon shook his head, his voice firm. "Leave her to me. I will take her to the room."

The maid nodded quickly and hurried off. Simeon noticed the fear in her eyes, but it didn't bother him. It was common for lower-ranked werewolves to be intimidated by higher-ranked alphas, like him. It was natural. He had no problem with it.

Gently, he laid her down on the bed in Irene's room, careful not to wake her. However, she clung to him, her hands gripping his suit. He heard a mumble from her lips. The words were indistinguishable. It sounded as if she was calling someone's name, but the volume was too low for clarity.

Simeon did not move, not wanting to wake her. For some reason, he continued looking at her face. Long eyelashes cast delicate shadows across her eyelids, soft and just a little puffy.

He couldn't help but look. It was such a temptation, but he refrained. It was better to admire her beauty from afar, lest he get swept away by the temptation.

With a deep breath, he reached out and gently brushed a lock of her hair back from her cheek; his fingers grazed her soft skin.

The room was dark, and the silence between them felt heavy. He felt uneasy in the quiet. He cast a delaying glance before finally lying down beside her, wondering what she might feel when she opened her eyes and found him lying next to her. Would she get angry? Slap him? Or, if she was in a dramatic mood, yell at him?

Even though she was dramatic, Simeon still liked her. She was his wife, and he couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

He finally lay down beside her, settling into the bed with a deep sigh, preparing for whatever the morning might bring.

…

Simeon woke up, feeling something hitting him. First, it was a sound similar to the rustling of his hair. Waking uncomfortably and rubbing his eyes, the first thing he saw was Irene's face.

She looked rather amusingly odd, with red eyes and cold hands, as she asked, "Mr. Simeon Kings, would you care to explain why I'm lying in your bed and you're beside me? What happened yesterday?"

Simeon didn't know how to feel at that moment or what to say to her. A stranger might find it incomprehensible why a wife would ask her husband what he was doing in the room with her, much less why he was in the same bed.

But in the case of Irene and Simeon, it didn't work that way. Their marriage was an arrangement between their families, and Irene just didn't like him. while she was asleep in the car; He didn't want to wake her, so he brought her inside the house. His mother had asked him to take Irene to his room, and he did so because he knew Irene would understand, since his mother was not someone he would disobey.

Irene looked at him with a mix of contemplation and disbelief. Her lips, red, parted before narrowing her eyes. "Come play games with me," she said. "I thought you had crossed the line. Nothing is ever going to happen between us."

Her words pierced him like thorns driving deep into his heart. His mood wasn't stable. No, it couldn't be stable anymore. Simeon rose from the bed, moving closer to her. He watched as she stepped back, her feet shifting nervously, putting space between them.

He didn't like how she was retreating from him. He was her husband. Even if she didn't like him, didn't he still have that right?

"Why are you backing away, Irene?" His voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't I have a right to you? Just like the way that man claimed you. Your body, your soul... damaged."

Simeon stepped closer, and Irene retreated another step until her back touched the cupboard. He was usually a calm man, but he couldn't hide it now. He was jealous—absolutely thoroughly jealous. His mate, his wife, had been in the embrace of another man. He had seen it all. The memories haunted him like a nightmare—a torture he was afraid would stay with him for years.

His eyes blazed amber red; his werewolf instincts clawed for control. Simeon fought the burn of jealousy surging inside him and the need to bite her lips to claim her. Irene's eyes slid away from his, her chest heaving as if she fought not to meet his gaze.

"Look at me, Irene," Simeon ordered softly. He moved closer, his lips inches from her neck. She closed her eyes, her body rigid with fear.

Why was she scared of him? He was her husband. How could she not be afraid of strangers but be afraid of him? Simeon couldn't fathom it. Couldn't she learn to love him? She could give her heart to another man, but she couldn't even offer him a fraction of it. What was her problem?

This marriage was arranged. They weren't the first couple to be paired together by their families, even if they didn't love each other. When Simeon married Irene, he had no issue with it. She was his wife, and he had vowed to love and care for her, even if she was a stranger to him.

Yet Irene was unlike the rest. It seemed she yearned for something more, something beyond her grasp. She didn't want this marriage. Her heart, her soul, and her very being seemed to be elsewhere, as if they had flown to some other world beyond his understanding.

Simeon felt his werewolf side, Lauren, rise in him, threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't allow his darker instincts to act on the wicked desires festering in his heart. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to calm down. When he opened them, the familiar black of his normal gaze had vanished, replaced by a fiery gold.

In Irene's frightened eyes, he saw her confusion and her wariness. The sight cut into him.

"You really don't like me, huh?" He asked, his voice heavy with sorrow. The words burst from him in a desperate cry. A confession of sorrow in his heart.