From Substitute To Queen. Chapter 110

*Everything about you,* I thought.

I crouched down, presenting my back to her. "Come on, little drunk girl."

Sable stepped carefully behind me, her hands settling on my shoulders as she climbed onto my back. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and I stood slowly, making sure she was secure before I started walking.

"Am I too heavy?" she asked, breath warm against my ear.

"You weigh nothing at all."

As we walked beneath the soft glow of street lamps, Sable's cheek pressed against the back of my neck. Her warm breath sent shivers down my spine, and I had to consciously regulate my breathing to keep my body from reacting too strongly.

"Caelan," she said, voice muffled against my skin. "You know what I did earlier? I told everyone in that bar that I like you. In front of all those people."

"I heard every word."

"Was that embarrassing? I've never done anything like that before."

I adjusted my grip on her legs, making sure she was comfortable. "Not embarrassing at all. I liked hearing the whole world know you're mine."

She was quiet for a moment, then her voice turned petulant. "I'm still mad at you about yesterday."

My steps faltered slightly. "Yesterday?"

"In the bathroom at the restaurant." Her words came out in a rush of drunken honesty. "You pulled me in there and... did those things to me. Like some kind of animal."

My back went rigid. The memory crashed over me – the jealousy, the possessive rage, the way I'd lost control completely.

"You looked at me like you wanted to devour me," she continued. "Not like you loved me. Like you owned me."

"I don't like being treated that way, Caelan. I know you're the Lycan King and you're used to taking what you want, but I'm not your property."

Her voice grew stronger, more certain. "I never gave Darrell any hope. I never encouraged him. But you didn't trust me enough to know that."

*Fuck. She's completely right.*

"You always act first and think later. What am I to you? Just something to be conquered whenever you feel threatened?"

The pain in her voice cut through me like silver. She was laying bare every mistake I'd made, every moment I'd let my possessive instincts override my respect for her.

"I need you to trust me," she whispered. "And I need you to see me as your partner, not your possession."

I stopped walking. Right there under a streetlight, I carefully lowered her to the ground and turned to face her. My hands settled on her shoulders, gentle but firm.

Her cheeks were flushed from alcohol and emotion, eyes bright with unshed tears. Even drunk, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Sable." My voice came out rougher than I intended. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

She looked up at me, waiting.

"You're right about everything. My possessiveness, my jealousy – it's not fair to you." I cupped her face in my hands, thumbs stroking her soft skin. "You deserve better than that."

"I know you've never betrayed my trust. The problem isn't you – it's me and my fucked-up need to control everything."

Her eyes searched mine. "Promise me you'll try to do better."

"I promise. No more scenes like yesterday. Ever."

***

Back at her apartment, I used the key she'd given me weeks ago to let us in. The simple act of being trusted with access to her private space still sent warmth through my chest every time.

Sable immediately kicked off her heels and stumbled toward the couch, her movements loose and uncoordinated.

I caught her before she could collapse. "Bath first, then sleep."

"Don't wanna," she mumbled against my chest. "Tired."

"You'll feel terrible in the morning if you don't clean up." I lifted her easily, carrying her toward the bathroom. "Trust me."

In the bathroom, I set her down carefully and turned on the shower, testing the water temperature with my hand until it was perfect. Steam began to fog the mirror.

"Arms up," I said gently.

She raised her arms obediently, and I carefully lifted her dress over her head. Her skin was flushed pink from the wine, and I had to force myself to focus on taking care of her rather than how beautiful she looked.

Under the warm spray, she leaned heavily against me, eyes half-closed in contentment. I washed her hair with gentle movements, my fingers working through the long strands while she made soft, pleased sounds.

"Feel good?" I asked.

"Mmm." She nuzzled against my wet shirt. "You take such good care of me."

After wrapping her in a fluffy towel, I carried her to the bedroom and helped her into a silk nightgown. She swayed on her feet as I blow-dried her hair, the warm air making her drowsy.

"Caelan," she said as I set down the dryer. "Don't leave yet."

I was already moving toward the bathroom to clean up when her small hand caught my wrist.

"Tell me a story?" Her voice carried that soft, pleading quality that made it impossible to deny her anything. "A fairy tale?"

The words came out slightly slurred, and my heart stopped for a moment. "What did you just say?"

"A fairy tale," she repeated, looking confused by my reaction.

Relief flooded through me. For a split second, I'd heard "Darry tale" and thought she was calling for him. *Christ, I'm more paranoid than I thought.*

"Sorry," I said, running a hand through my hair. "I misheard you."

I pulled out my phone, scrolling to the collection of short stories I'd downloaded months ago. Stories I'd never admitted to anyone I had, stories I'd saved specifically for moments like this.

*I've been planning for this since the beginning,* I realized. *Dreaming of reading bedtime stories to her like some lovesick fool.*

Settling beside her on the bed, I found a story about a moon princess and began to read. My voice took on that low, soothing tone I'd never used with anyone else.

"Once upon a time, in a kingdom where the moon touched the earth, there lived a beautiful princess with eyes like amber and hair like spun gold..."

Sable curled against my side, her head finding its natural place on my shoulder. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep.

But that's when my real torture began.