Alpha's Dark Desires
Chapter 77: My Ex

Chapter 77: My Ex

Elena POV:

So here I was, sitting in Kane’s ridiculously pristine kitchen, sipping on orange juice like it was my life support, and trying to come to terms with the fact that my mate—my mate—was not only capable of being Prince Charming but also the poster boy for a...whipping-and-gagging romance novel? Because apparently, that’s a thing. A thing I almost threw myself into last night in my drunken stupor. What is wrong with me? Who gets drunk and decides, "Hey, maybe I’ll try being tied up for fun"? I mean, really, Elena. Really.

Okay, deep breaths. Positive thoughts. Happy thoughts. Or at least sane ones.

First off, I’d like to thank my mate for not taking advantage of my very questionable judgment last night. Gentlemanly? Sure. A big bad alpha? Absolutely. But a saint? Debatable. Still, he didn’t try anything, which, considering how much I embarrassed myself, was probably a miracle. Second, I’d like to formally request that my wolf not abandon me the next time I decide to drown my nerves in alcohol. Where was she when I needed her? Supposedly, our wolves are there to help us make better decisions. Mine clearly decided to clock out early and leave me to fend for myself, probably hoping I’d finally get laid. Sorry, sister. Our mate is a gentleman, and we’re still sitting on a big fat zero in that department.

Speaking of our mate, let me catch you up on the delightful morning after. Picture this: me, naked, sprawled on top of Kane like a pancake that had somehow glued itself to the plate. Mortifying doesn’t even begin to cover it. Add to that the strange, heated tingling I felt between my thighs when he held me (which, by the way, I am not over), and you’ve got yourself one hell of a mess. A horny, confusing, emotionally charged mess.

But I digress. Let’s fast-forward to breakfast, where we had a little chat about the, uh, status of our "relationship." And by relationship, I mean the absolute rollercoaster that is whatever we’re doing right now. I didn’t want to call it a relationship because that felt too official, but "this thing" also seemed too casual. So, we settled on terms, and I guess you could say we agreed to take it slow. No rushing, no pressure, and most importantly, no BDSM unless I explicitly wanted to try it.

Kane, in his ever-patient tone, explained that BDSM wasn’t the horror movie I’d conjured up in my head. "It’s not all pain, Elena," he said, and honestly, the way he said my name in that low, gravelly voice made me think pain might not be the worst thing in the world. "It’s about trust, pleasure, and communication. It’s for the submissive’s benefit as much as the dominant’s." He even offered to show me—not in a do it now kind of way, but more like a "here’s what it’s actually about" kind of way.

And because I am a masochist in my own right (pun intended), I found myself curious. Curious enough to consider it? Not yet. But curious enough to admit that maybe, just maybe, I’d painted it worse than it was. Still, I wasn’t about to sign up for a spanking anytime soon. I’m not exactly a sucker for pain, you know?

After our surprisingly constructive conversation, Kane stood up, looking all alpha-like and serious, and announced that he needed to go deal with pack issues. Apparently, my little runaway stunt had set him back on some very important alpha business. He assured me that I was free to go anywhere I wanted, as long as I promised to be home by the time he got back. "It’s a gesture of trust," he said, though I couldn’t help but hear the unspoken don’t run away again. I rolled my eyes but nodded, because honestly, where was I even going to go?

That brings us to the present, where I’m sitting here trying to figure out what the hell to do with my day. Kane said I could go anywhere, which is nice and all, but what does a girl do when she’s just agreed to not

run away from her very confusing mate who has a penchant for both rose petals and leather cuffs? I mean, talk about conflicting vibes.

I decided to do what any self-respecting woman would do in my position: explore the house. And by explore, I mean snoop.

Kane’s house was huge, as you’d expect from an alpha. It had that whole modern-rustic aesthetic going on, with lots of wood, steel, and neutral tones. Very bachelor-chic. The living room had a massive fireplace, and the couch looked so comfortable I was tempted to take a nap right then and there. But no, I was on a mission. A mission to understand the man I’d promised to give a chance.

The kitchen was spotless, of course, except for a single mug in the sink. I smirked, imagining Kane being all flustered because he forgot to wash it. The dining room was equally immaculate, though it felt more like a showpiece than a place where people actually ate.

Then I found his office. Jackpot.

The room was lined with bookshelves, each one filled with books that looked like they’d never been touched. The desk was sleek and organized, with a stack of papers neatly piled on one side and a laptop on the other. I hesitated for a moment before opening one of the drawers. Nothing too scandalous—just some pens, a notepad, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Figures.

I was just about to leave when something caught my eye: a photo frame tucked away in the corner of the desk. It was a picture of Kane and an older man who I assumed was his father. They were standing side by side, both looking serious but proud. It was the first glimpse I’d had of Kane’s past, and it made me wonder what kind of man he’d been before life turned him into the alpha I knew now.

I put the frame back and closed the door, feeling a little guilty for snooping but also strangely satisfied. I still had no idea what I was going to do about this whole mate situation, but at least I felt like I understood him a little better. And maybe, just maybe, that was a good place to start.

By the time Kane got home, I was curled up on the couch with a book I’d found in his library. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly surprised to find me there. "You stayed," he said, and there was something in his voice that made my chest tighten.

"Yeah, well," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, "you did say you trusted me."

He smiled—a real, genuine smile—and for a moment, I forgot why I was so scared of this whole mate thing. Maybe, just maybe, we were going to be okay.

"It’s still early. Thought you had a lot to do?" I asked Kane, my eyebrow raised in mild suspicion. It was only 2 PM—14:00 for you time-sticklers—and way too early for him to be back from whatever "alpha duties" he had on his to-do list. I had pegged him for a 5 or 6 PM return, maybe 7 at the latest. Yet, here he was, standing in front of me with a sheepish smile that practically screamed busted.

"I came for lunch," he said casually, but the way he scratched the back of his neck gave him away. Sure, Kane. Lunch. Because we all know what you really came for: to check if I’d bolted. Let’s be honest, the man probably ran halfway through his pack meeting the moment someone said, "Alpha, your..." because Elena might have left.

I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. "Lunch, huh?"

He nodded, that sheepish smile transforming into something a little more boyish, a little more Kane.

I sighed, deciding not to call him out. What was the point? He was here, and I was still here, so technically, he didn’t need to know that I’d caught onto his little "just checking in" excuse. "Well, I made lasagna earlier," I said, turning toward the kitchen. "There’s some left if you’re interested. I could warm it up for you."

Before I could even finish my sentence, his grin grew so wide it was almost goofy. "Really? That’d be great," he said, looking like I’d just offered him a five-star meal instead of reheated leftovers. Honestly, the man acted like I’d agreed to hand-feed him or something.

I made my way into the kitchen, and of course, he followed me. Because why wouldn’t he? Kane was like a giant shadow, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, watching me like I was the most fascinating thing in the world. That stupid grin was still plastered on his face, and it made me feel...weird. Not bad weird. Just weird. Like maybe I was getting used to him being around, which was a whole new level of what the hell is happening to me.

"Why are you smiling like that?" I asked, grabbing the lasagna and popping it into the microwave. I set the timer and turned around to find him still staring at me.

"Like what?" he asked, tilting his head. His voice was casual, but there was something mischievous in his tone.

"Like you just won the lottery."

He chuckled, his grin softening into something less ridiculous but no less disarming. "Maybe I did."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And you’re adorable when you’re pretending not to like me," he shot back smoothly.

Oh, that did it. I grabbed a dish towel and lightly swatted him with it. "Don’t push your luck, Alpha."

"Is that a challenge?" he teased, grabbing the edge of the counter like he was considering closing the distance between us.

I pointed a finger at him. "Sit down before you don’t get your lasagna."

He laughed but obeyed, taking a seat at the small kitchen table. When the microwave beeped, I pulled the plate out, grabbed a fork, and set it in front of him. He looked at the food like it was a masterpiece, which, okay, maybe it was. My lasagna was pretty damn good.

"You didn’t have to make this," he said, his tone softer now as he picked up the fork. "Thank you."

"Don’t mention it," I replied, leaning against the counter with my own plate in hand. "But seriously, Kane. You didn’t have to rush back just to check on me. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere."

He looked up at me then, his expression serious but warm. "I know. I trust you, Elena. I just...I wanted to see you."

Oh. Well, what was I supposed to do with that? My heart did this stupid little flutter thing, and I cursed it for betraying me. I busied myself with pouring him a glass of water, hoping he couldn’t see the heat creeping up my neck.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and saw that he was relaxed, maybe even happy. It was strange to see him like this—just a guy enjoying lunch with me, not the intimidating alpha or the complicated mate with a penchant for leather cuffs.

"So," I said after a while, breaking the silence. "Did you at least get some of your pack stuff done before you decided to ditch it for lasagna?"

He smirked. "Some of it."

I raised an eyebrow. "That doesn’t sound very convincing."

He shrugged, not looking the least bit guilty. "What can I say? I have priorities."

I rolled my eyes again but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped me.

Just then there was a knock on the front door. I left him eating as I went to answer it and boy I wasn’t prepared to see Derick!