Free Web NovelChapter 162: Chapter 162 Comfort in His Arms
Sylvia’s POV
I heard a gentle knock on my office door while I was buried in spreadsheets. The soft tapping pattern was distinctive—not my assistant’s usual rhythmic rap.
"Come in," I called out, my voice carrying that slight huskiness that comes from hours of conference calls.
The door opened, but whoever entered remained silent. Strange. I kept my eyes on the quarterly projections, assuming they’d speak up.
"If you have something to report, just tell me," I said, still not looking up.
When silence continued to fill the room, I finally lifted my gaze—and my heart did that annoying little skip it always did when Caesar stood before me.
"You? What brings you here?" I couldn’t help the surprise in my tone.
Caesar’s imposing figure filled my doorway, but his eyes held nothing but warmth as they took in my appearance. I suddenly became aware of how exhausted I must look.
"I came to check on you," he said, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "You’ve been skipping meals again."
"See? I brought sustenance." His lips curved into that rare smile that transformed his entire face from intimidating to breathtaking.
As he set the container on my desk and began unpacking what appeared to be an entire restaurant’s worth of food, I felt that familiar warmth spreading through me. Normally, I’d catch his scent, but today, like many days since I’d first rejected our mate bond, my wolf senses flickered unpredictably.
It didn’t matter. I knew his scent by heart even when I couldn’t physically detect it.
"You didn’t need to do all this," I said, watching him methodically arrange containers across my desk.
Caesar’s hands paused mid-motion. "You don’t like it?"
"No, it’s not that." I shook my head quickly. "I just don’t want you going to so much trouble."
His expression softened instantly. "It’s no trouble, Sivi." The nickname sent another flutter through my chest. "Come eat while it’s hot."
I moved to sit beside him, and immediately his attention focused entirely on filling my plate. Before I could take more than a couple bites, my plate resembled a small mountain of carefully selected delicacies.
"Caesar," I laughed, "I can feed myself, you know."
He ignored my protest, continuing to add choice pieces to my plate. "You’ve been too busy to eat properly. I can see you’ve lost weight."
His observation wasn’t wrong. The John Sinclair crisis had consumed every waking hour, leaving little time for basics like regular meals or sleep.
"Thank you," I said softly, meaning it for more than just the food.
His spoon clattered against his bowl, and he turned to me with an expression of mock offense. "What did I say about thanking me? We’re mates, Sivi. This is what we do."
My cheeks warmed. Despite our complex beginning, we’d fallen into a relationship that felt both natural and extraordinary. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile at his dramatic reaction. The food was exactly what I needed—hearty, warm, and perfectly spiced. Each bite reminded me how attentive he was to my preferences.
"No one notices these things," I murmured, almost to myself. "Not even my mother."
"It’s funny," I said, putting down my fork. "I spent so many years preparing to take over Frostline, and now that I have, I’m fighting twice as hard just to prove I deserve it."
Caesar’s hand found mine, his thumb tracing patterns across my knuckles. "You have nothing to prove. Your actions speak for themselves."
I leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his skin against mine. "You know, for someone with such a terrifying reputation, you’re surprisingly good at this comfort thing."
His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to maintain."
The reminder of his fearsome reputation as the Wolf King made me smile. If only his enemies could see him now, fretting over whether I’d eaten enough vegetables.
"Your secret’s safe with me," I promised, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair—something few would dare attempt with the most powerful Alpha in North America.
To my delight, he actually leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly like a contented wolf enjoying affection from his mate.
"Are you purring?" I teased.
His eyes snapped open, glinting with mischief. "Wolves don’t purr, Sivi."
"You sure about that? Because it sounded an awful lot like—"
"You know what I think?" he interrupted, his voice dropping to that dangerous octave that made my skin prickle with awareness.
"What?" I asked, suddenly breathless.
"I think you’re trying to distract me from making sure you finish your meal."
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress my smile. "Fine, I’ll eat. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," he deadpanned, but his eyes danced with amusement.
We fell into comfortable silence as I continued eating. This was what I loved most about being with Caesar—the easy comfort between us that required no performance, no posturing. Just us.
When I finished, Caesar packed up the containers with the same efficiency with which he ran his empire.
"Thank you," I said again, unable to help myself. "Not just for lunch, but for... everything these past weeks. I couldn’t have done it without you."
Instead of chiding me for thanking him again, Caesar simply took my hand and pulled me gently to my feet.
"You could have," he said with absolute certainty. "But I’m glad you didn’t have to."
On impulse, I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Now do you believe me?"
His eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting the gesture. I felt a flicker of satisfaction at surprising the unflappable Wolf King.
"Believe what?" he asked, voice rougher than before.
"That I appreciate you," I said simply, turning back to my desk, suddenly shy despite myself.
But Caesar wasn’t about to let me retreat. His hand caught my wrist, spinning me back toward him. "Sivi," he growled softly, "you can’t just light a fire and walk away."
"I didn’t—"
His mouth captured mine before I could finish my protest. One hand cradled the back of my head while the other pressed firmly against my lower back, drawing me against his hard chest. My hands, which had initially pushed against him in surprise, now clutched at his shirt, keeping him close.
