The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 33

Freya's POV

He led us through the main dining area, where conversations faltered and heads turned as we passed. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, my wolf bristling at the feeling of so many eyes on me. I felt naked under their stares, exposed and vulnerable in a way that even the Wilds had never made me feel.

The private room was on the second floor, an intimate space with floor-to-ceiling windows. A single table stood in the center, set with fine china and crystal that caught the light from the chandelier overhead. The maître d' pulled out chairs for us, then discreetly withdrew, closing the soundproof door behind him.

I sat stiffly, intensely aware of how out of place I was. The menu before me listed prices that made my stomach clench with anxiety. I mentally calculated the money I had left – what Ryder had given me plus the few dollars I'd managed to save – and realized I couldn't afford even the cheapest appetizer. My fingers fidgeted with the edge of the menu, betraying my discomfort.

Thorne watched me from across the table, his dark eyes missing nothing. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, assessing, calculating. My skin prickled under his scrutiny.

"I don't have the habit of making my... companions pay for their meals," he said, his voice neutral, but the pause before "companions" sent a jolt through me. "Order whatever you want."

I bit back a retort about not being his companion. Instead, I opened the menu and scanned the options, my mouth watering despite myself. I eventually chose several dishes I had loved in my previous life – a rare venison steak, roasted root vegetables with herbs, and a wild mushroom soup. My stomach clenched painfully at the thought of such rich food after so long.

When the waiter returned, Thorne ordered for both of us, adding a bottle of red wine I recognized as costing more than a month's rent in my apartment in the Shadow District. His voice was smooth and confident, the voice of a man accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.

As the waiter left, I found myself staring out the window at the city.

"I used to come here with my family every month," I said softly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. My chest ached with longing for those lost days. "My father would always order the same thing – the elk with blackberry sauce. And my mother..." I trailed off, the memories suddenly too painful to voice. My throat tightened, and I blinked rapidly to dispel the threat of tears.

Thorne didn't respond, and when I glanced at him, his expression was unreadable. But his eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin flush.

---

The food arrived quickly, the aroma making my stomach growl again. I tried to eat slowly, to show some semblance of the manners I'd been raised with, but hunger won out. I cut into the venison steak and took a large bite, only to wince as a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. The wound from my earlier beating hadn't fully healed, and the rich food after days of barely eating was too much for my system. My hand trembled slightly as I set down my fork.

I tried to hide my discomfort, but Thorne's gaze sharpened. His nostrils flared slightly, and I knew he could smell the pain coming off me in waves.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his tone more demanding than concerned, but his eyes narrowed with something that looked almost like worry.

"Nothing," I lied, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Just eating too fast."

He studied me for a moment, then signaled to the waiter who had been standing discreetly by the door. They had a brief, whispered conversation that my wolf's enhanced hearing couldn't quite catch.

A few minutes later, the waiter returned with a different set of dishes – a light, clear broth with tender pieces of meat, and some plain, steamed vegetables. The rich venison steak was removed.

"This will be easier on your stomach," Thorne said, his voice matter-of-fact.

I blinked, surprised by his perceptiveness and the unexpected consideration. A strange warmth that had nothing to do with pain spread through my chest. "Thank you," I murmured, picking up my spoon to try the broth.

It was perfect – flavorful but gentle, and the warmth spread through my body, easing some of the tension I'd been carrying. I ate slowly, savoring each spoonful, while Thorne continued with his original meal. I couldn't help watching his hands as he cut his meat – strong hands with long fingers, hands that had touched me with both gentleness and authority.

The silence between us wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't as unbearable as it had been in the car. I found myself stealing glances at him, noting the tired lines around his eyes, the slight tension in his shoulders. Being an Alpha – especially one who also served as Chief Judge – clearly took its toll, even on someone as powerful as Thorne Grey. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him.

After we'd eaten for a while, Thorne set down his knife and fork. "I need to make a call," he said, standing. "Wait here. Don't leave this room."

It was an order, not a request, and my wolf bristled at being commanded. I felt my jaw clench, a flare of defiance rising in me despite the instinctive pull to obey. But I nodded, not wanting to provoke him when things were relatively peaceful.

Thorne walked to the balcony door and stepped outside, closing it behind him. Through the glass, I could see him take out his phone and begin speaking, his back to me. Even in profile, he was imposing – shoulders straight, head held high.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, some of the tension leaving my body now that I wasn't under his direct gaze. I continued eating the broth, grateful for the reprieve from his overwhelming presence.

The door to the private room opened suddenly, and my head snapped up, expecting to see the waiter. Instead, a familiar figure stood in the doorway, a smile frozen on her face.

"Thorne! You're here too? I just finished dinner with Daddy and thought I'd—"