Those words seemed to resonate, and I suddenly stopped struggling, my resistance gradually weakening.
Although Lukas didn't fully understand what love was, he could sense the turmoil I was feeling—betrayal. Even if I hadn't acted voluntarily, I felt as though I had betrayed my boyfriend. This kind of mental torture was the most terrifying. While he had initially let things go, he couldn't stand by idly any longer when he saw the extent of my self-abuse.
"...Jake will be worried if you keep acting like this," Lukas whispered softly as he kissed me. "Don't be afraid. Let me help you... I am your mate."
A potent mix of love and desire filled the room, thickening the air between us.
But Lukas didn't push any further. Instead, he gently soothed me into a deep, restful sleep before quietly leaving the room.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
I slept deeply for what felt like an eternity, finally finding the peaceful rest I hadn't experienced in nearly a month. When I finally woke up, I had no idea what time it was. I froze for a moment, then got out of bed, opened the curtains, and was greeted by bright sunlight streaming in. It was 2:30 in the afternoon—I had slept for almost sixteen hours.
After a quick shower, I left my room and made my way downstairs, contemplating what to do next. Suddenly, I spotted Lukas sitting on the sofa, focused on his laptop. My body stiffened unnaturally at the sight of him. "Why are you... here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He raised an eyebrow at my question. "Today is Sunday."
I thought to myself, ...But you've never been here on Sundays before?
Lukas seemed to pick up on my thoughts. "I'll try my best to stay home and keep you company from now on," he said softly.
His words triggered my anxiety once more.
"Don't be so scared of me," he added gently. "I won't do anything to you without your consent."
I remained silent, unsure of how to respond.
He took the opportunity to continue. "Do you know what you've done to yourself? While you were asleep, I asked the family doctor to check on you. Turns out, you have anemia, aren't sleeping well, and your blood sugar is dangerously low. I almost had someone rush you to the hospital for an IV drip."
"I—" I opened my mouth to reply, but he quickly interrupted.
"Forget it," Lukas said, his voice quieter now. "It's my fault anyway. I should have checked on you more often."
I don't know what Lukas' impression is like to others, but the cold, distant image I've seen in magazines and on TV is so different from the one sitting in front of me now—so soft and gentle.
After a moment of silence, I finally managed to speak. "Thank you."
He looked a little surprised. "What happened yesterday?" he quickly changed the subject.
I looked at him silently, unsure of how to explain.
He pressed on, concern evident in his voice. "What did Jake say to you? Your emotions were… so unstable. Can't you just tell me?"
I hesitated, lowering my head as the memories flooded back. "I— I really don't know how to say it," I admitted. I remembered how Jake saw me grabbing his clothes, and then he shoved my hands away. I was completely stunned. That wasn't like him at all—he's never been like that before.
Lukas seemed to pick up on what I was feeling just from my expression. "If he did something that upset you, it's not really your fault—it's because of my scent and the mark I left on you," he explained softly.
Hearing that, I suddenly looked at him more closely.
He added gently, "I hope you can understand him."
I nodded silently, absorbing his words.
He reached out, his voice quieter now. "Don't look so worried. I've been trying very hard to hold back my instincts..." Lukas paused for a moment. "If you truly understand what you're doing, then I won't stop you from seeing him."
That surprised me. Usually, alphas—being the top of the hierarchy—are extremely possessive of what they consider theirs, especially the one they've marked as their mate.
He continued, his tone a little softer, "But at least don't think about other men when you're with me."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
After that conversation, life gradually returned to normal.
Lukas continued with his mornings at work and came home afterward, and we hadn't seen each other as often—only a few times a week. Reflecting carefully on his words, I found myself calming down completely.
I realized that I had been impulsive back then, and I shouldn't have had any expectations of seeing Jake again. No matter how much I missed him or loved him, I understood that this kind of entanglement was unlikely to lead to anything good.
Before I could continue to waver or let my emotions cloud my judgment, I made a firm decision—I would refrain from meeting Jake for the time being. It was the only way to give myself some clarity and protect myself from further heartbreak.
To keep myself from spiraling into wild thoughts, I decided to find things to occupy my time. My grocery shopping at the supermarket had been interrupted yesterday when I ran into Jake.
After work, I went to buy ingredients and some daily necessities. Although Lukas was wealthy, he didn't have a full-time housekeeper. He only hired regular workers once a week for cleaning and shopping, likely due to his irregular lifestyle. As I pondered this, I found myself buying a lot more than I intended. By the time I got home, I was carrying two large bags and was so exhausted that I stood at the door, gasping for breath.
I had wanted to organize the groceries immediately, but I realized—after nearly a month here—I was still unfamiliar with this place. I smiled helplessly at myself, took some time to familiarize myself with every corner of the house, and then carefully put things away. By the time I finished, it was already nine o'clock.
I quickly prepared and ate dinner. After washing the dishes, a sudden thought crossed my mind: "Has Lukas already eaten? Should I cook for him too?"
Although I was quite certain that Lukas likely had people around him to ensure he wouldn't go hungry, he still returned home so late every day. Even if he wasn't hungry, he must have been tired. Despite constantly warning myself not to interfere in others' affairs, I couldn't shake the thought that I relied on him—and coupled with his concern for me last time—made it impossible for me to ignore him.
I pondered for a moment, then decided to prepare a few simple, easily digestible side dishes. I stored them in the refrigerator, just in case. Afterward, I left a note on his door, then returned to my room, feeling a mix of hesitation and care.
When Lukas returned home, he sensed that Stella's mood had finally settled. As he stepped inside, a faint aroma of food drifted through the air, catching him off guard. He was surprised to realize that she could actually cook, especially considering how he'd noticed she rarely ate at home.
After kicking off his shoes, he was about to head straight to his bedroom and sleep when he spotted a note taped to his door.
"I've cooked some easy digestible dishes. Eat some of it before you go to sleep," it read.
Lukas hesitated for a moment, then walked back downstairs. He opened the refrigerator, saw the neatly stored dishes, and a small smile touched his lips. He took out a portion, ate it quietly, then closed the fridge. With a sense of quiet appreciation, he returned to his room, feeling a little lighter than before.
The next morning, I woke up to find that a portion of the food from the previous night had been eaten. Somehow, I felt a slight wave of disappointment. After reheating the leftovers, I made it my breakfast. There was a meeting scheduled for the morning, so I needed to arrive early. I hurried through my meal, pondering what to do in the evening. Once ready, I packed up and headed out.
That night, after finishing my own dinner, I hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided to cook for Lukas again. I wasn't sure why he hadn't eaten—whether he wasn't hungry, didn't like the food, or for some other reason. Regardless, he hadn't stopped me from cooking. Knowing Lukas' personality, if he didn't like something, he would reject it outright, without hesitation or ambiguity. For some reason, I sensed that he allowed me to do this, even without any direct conversation between us.
On the second day of cooking for him, he didn't eat. The next day, still nothing. On the fourth day, he again left the food untouched, and by the fifth day, he still hadn't taken a bite. Despite changing up the dinner options each night, Lukas didn't seem to be interested at all.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-doubt about my cooking skills. Jake always praised me, saying I was on par with a five-star Michelin chef, which made me feel proud and accomplished. But when it came to Lukas, it seemed as if I had no talent at all. No matter how much effort I put in, he simply didn't eat my meals, and that made me question myself more than anything.