Hiding The Alpha King's Twins

Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Fleur was utterly bewildered.

Just moments ago, every doctor in the penthouse had looked ready to panic over Christian’s condition. His warriors hovered outside his room like anxious pack members guarding an injured Alpha, fearful that their king might collapse at any moment.

Yet now?

The supposedly dying Alpha was gripping her wrist with alarming strength, his silver eyes fixed on her as though she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

For someone hovering on the edge of exhaustion, he seemed remarkably capable of getting his way.

The intensity of his attention left Fleur flustered.

The room suddenly felt smaller. Warmer. More dangerous.

Not because of his physical strength but because of the wolf hidden beneath his skin.

Even weakened, Christian Wayne radiated dominance powerful enough to unsettle every instinct she possessed.

When he finally released her, Fleur quickly stepped back, putting a safe distance between them.

Christian watched her retreat with narrowed eyes. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

"What are you doing here, Miss Swann?"

His voice remained rough from exhaustion, but curiosity lingered beneath it.

Fleur folded her arms. Instead of answering, she fired a question back at him.

"Why aren’t you taking your medication?"

One dark eyebrow lifted.

"Do you care?"

The question caught her off guard.

"I..." Fleur faltered.

For a moment, words abandoned her completely. Then she straightened her shoulders.

"Of course not."

The lie sounded weak even to her own ears.

"You were injured because of me. If something happens to you, I’ll feel responsible."

Christian studied her quietly. Then he looked away.

"It’s not your responsibility." His voice turned indifferent. "My life belongs only to me."

The answer irritated her more than it should have.

Here was a man who had an entire pack worried sick over him, and he treated his own well-being as though it were meaningless.

Stubborn wolf.

Without another word, Fleur grabbed the bowl of soup resting on the bedside table and sat down near him.

She dipped a spoon into the broth and held it toward him.

"Eat."

Christian turned his head slightly and looked at her. Really looked at her.

Her worried eyes. Her determined expression. The concern she was trying—and failing—to hide.

His wolf stirred lazily inside.

But instead of accepting the spoon, he simply turned away.

Fleur’s patience snapped.

"What exactly do you want, Alpha Wayne?"

"Nothing."

The answer came immediately. The sound of it tightened something in Fleur’s chest.

"You need to finish this soup and take your medicine."

Her voice left no room for argument.

Christian almost smiled. Almost.

Nobody ordered him around. Not his warriors. Not his advisors. Not rival Alphas. Certainly not a human female.

Yet somehow Fleur made it sound perfectly natural.

When he remained silent, she scowled.

"I don’t have all night to deal with your stubbornness."

Christian finally spoke.

"I don’t like it."

Fleur blinked. "What?"

"The soup." His expression darkened. "It’s terrible."

She stared at him, flustered.

Of all the reasons she had expected...

"The cooks make the worst soup imaginable," Christian muttered. "I don’t want it."

Fleur rubbed her forehead in frustration.

Unbelievable...

Even injured, he remained impossibly difficult.

"What kind do you want then?"

His silver eyes shifted toward her.

"Steak soup." A pause. "With vegetables." Another pause. "The way I like it."

Fleur stared at him for several seconds. Then she rolled her eyes.

Of course. Some things never changed.

Even though she couldn’t explain why, the request felt strangely familiar. As though she had heard it hundreds of times before.

Without another word, she stood and headed for the door.

Christian’s gaze followed her.

Then the door closed behind her. The room suddenly felt empty. Far emptier than it should have been.

He closed his eyes, but sleep refused to come.

His wolf paced restlessly. Waiting. Listening. Searching for the scent that had vanished from the room.

Outside, Syrus nearly jumped when Fleur emerged.

"What’s wrong?" he asked immediately. "Is everything okay?"

"Where’s the kitchen?"

Syrus widened his eyes. "The kitchen?"

"Yes." Her tone left no room for discussion. "Show me."

Confused but obedient, Syrus led her downstairs.

The kitchen staff sprang into action the moment Fleur arrived.

Ingredients appeared. Utensils were gathered. And before anyone could ask questions, she began cooking.

The rich aroma of simmering broth soon filled the entire space.

Steak. Fresh vegetables. Herbs. Simple ingredients transformed by practiced hands.

Even Fleur found herself surprised by how naturally everything came to her.

As though muscle memory guided her movements. As though she had prepared this meal countless times before.

Once finished, she poured the soup into a large bowl and set aside extra for later.

Then she returned upstairs.

The moment she opened the bedroom door, Christian’s eyes snapped open.

He hadn’t been sleeping. Not really. He had been waiting.

The sight of her immediately eased the restless tension prowling through his wolf.

Fleur placed the bowl on the bedside table and arranged everything neatly.

Then she pointed toward him.

"Sit up."

Christian obeyed.

The realization startled both of them. Fleur quickly ignored it.

After positioning the tray across his lap, she placed the steaming bowl in front of him.

"There." She crossed her arms. "Eat."

Christian glanced at the soup. Then at her. Then back at the soup.

"Feed me."

Fleur nearly dropped the spoon.

"What?"

"Feed me."

His expression remained perfectly serious.

"If you don’t, I won’t eat."

Fleur was speechless.

The Alpha King stared back.

Several seconds passed.

Neither moved.

Arrogant wolf! She cursed him internally.

Unfortunately, she also knew he was stubborn enough to follow through.

With a frustrated sigh, she grabbed the spoon.

"Fine."

The victory in Christian’s eyes was immediate.

Fleur pretended not to notice. She lifted a spoonful and held it toward him.

Christian took a sip. Then another. The moment the flavor touched his tongue, everything stilled.

The taste was achingly familiar. His wolf instantly quieted. For the first time in days, genuine hunger surfaced.

Christian closed his eyes briefly. A low, satisfied rumble escaped his chest. The sound sent unexpected heat to Fleur’s cheeks.

When he opened his eyes again, they were fixed entirely on her.

"Who made this?"

Fleur shifted uncomfortably. "I did."

Her voice softened. "I hope it’s fine."

For a moment, Christian simply stared at her. Then he reached for her hands.

Fleur froze. His large fingers enclosed hers carefully. Almost reverently.

Before she could react, he lifted her hands and pressed them against his forehead, holding them there, as though drawing comfort from her touch.

"What are you doing?" Fleur asked breathlessly.

Christian lowered his gaze.

Something vulnerable flickered in his eyes.

"These hands," he said quietly, "have done what nobody else could."

His thumb brushed gently across her knuckles.

"They made me want to eat again."

The confession hung heavily between them.

Christian looked at her as though she were something precious. Something he had searched for across countless lonely years.

And for reasons Fleur couldn’t explain, her heart forgot how to beat for a moment.