Chapter 2: The Tail Under the Sheets

“Well… I’ll just leave the soup at the door.” She tries to salvage her exit with a soft retreat.

After the gentle click of the door, the blanket is finally pulled off me. Colton’s already buttoned up his shirt and is looking down at me. He’s back in control, almost clinical.

“Aren’t you coming out?”

Remembering how the Alpha used to handle the villainess, I realize he seemed to like this kind of needy, dramatic queen. If I play along, maybe I’ll keep my head.

So, I boldly reach out to him. I play the damsel-in-distress.

“I’m tired. Help me get dressed.”

Colton stares down at me. I tilt my chin up, waiting for him to give in. It’s a battle of patience and pride.

After a long pause, he relents and goes to fetch my clothes. That tiny sigh he lets out says everything.

But when he sees the torn pieces on the floor, he falls silent, voice rough. The shredded fabric is evidence.

“I’ll have the front desk bring up something.”

I blink at him, keeping up the act.

“Then give me a hug.”

Colton’s Adam’s apple bobs. He wraps me in his jacket. I hook a finger at him, pull him close, snap a selfie with our heads together, and set it as his phone wallpaper. Petty? Absolutely. Strategic? Even more so.

“From now on, you’re not allowed to change your phone’s wallpaper.” I say it like it’s a rule I’ve always enforced.

Honestly, I’m terrified too. I have no idea how much Colton actually forgot, so I have to take advantage of his confusion and keep feeding him sweet lies. Survival means improv.

After all, he’s a man—and I’m pretty sure his attraction to the villainess was mostly physical. Chemistry can be a leash.

So I need to stick close! Proximity is leverage, and right now, I need all the leverage I can get.

Now, wrapped in his oversized army jacket—just long enough to cover my thighs—Colton’s eyes keep darting away, his breathing getting heavier. There’s a heat in the room, a wolfish kind of tension.

A faint blush creeps from behind his ears down his neck. I sense danger and try to scoot away, but he grabs my ankle and pulls me toward him. Wolf reflexes: fast.

I barely have time to gasp before he pins me beneath him. One second I’m thinking, the next I’m flat on the mattress.

“You’re lying to me.”

Why did his memory suddenly come back? Did the fog lift, or did I push too far?

“There wasn’t a single photo of us together on my phone before this. Aside from the wallpaper you just set, who are you, really?” His logic is simple and ruthless.

I double down, looking as wronged as possible. Might as well lean in all the way.

“I’m your girlfriend! What, are you trying to back out?”

“Prove it.”

He leans in, all masculine heat and intensity. My legs go weak under his stare. I’m in way over my head.

He suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I can’t help but yelp as he holds me tight and leans down to kiss me. Every part of him is claiming me—his whole body says I’m his.

Just as our lips are about to meet, someone knocks on the door—it’s hotel staff with my clothes. Reality barges in at the worst possible moment.

I push him away in a panic. Colton takes a deep breath, reining himself in.

“I’ll get the door.”

That’s when I feel something cold brush my leg. Something that absolutely shouldn’t be there.

I instinctively look down—just in time to see a black wolf’s tail, radiating possessiveness, curling up from my ankle. It’s very real, and it’s definitely not helping my sanity.

Coarse fur brushes my skin, tightening and looping…

My eyes go wide with terror. My brain just short-circuits.

And then—I faint. Lights out. My body nopes out of the situation.

Mom, I’m terrified of wolves! I grew up scared of dogs; this is a four-alarm escalation.

It’s one thing to know he’s got a wolf bloodline, but for him to shift right in front of me? Seeing is believing… and then fainting.

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