Chereads / Mafia Princess: Raised by Wolves / Chapter 10 - Wake Up in Arion’s Bed

Chapter 10 - Wake Up in Arion’s Bed

Time frame: present

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Lily was roused from her slumber by the resounding crash on the floor.

A soft, pained groan escaped her lips as she struggled to move her body. Gradually, her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

As her senses gradually returned, the first sight that greeted her was a resplendent chandelier hanging above her, casting a radiant golden light that was almost blinding.

She attempted to shift her body, and a faint whimper escaped her lips as she tried to move. Blinking away the lingering haze of sleep, she took in her surroundings.

The opulence of the room was immediately evident – intricate carvings adorned the walls, depicting lunar goddesses and watchful werewolf spirits.

The juxtaposition of these two elements in the décor was both mesmerizing and intriguing.

The bed she was lying on was adorned with rich, velvety fabrics that hinted at a comfort that was almost surreal in their post-apocalyptic world.

The room itself seemed to exude an air of mystique and grandeur, the carved designs hinting at stories of ancient lore.

Her eyes were drawn to the chandelier that hung above her, its intricate design reflecting a fusion of elegance and otherworldly artistry.

The chandelier's golden glow bathed the room in a warm, ethereal light, casting intricate shadows on the walls adorned with depictions of moon goddesses.

The robed figures of the goddesses seemed to dance in the soft light, their faces serene and otherworldly.

But what intrigued her the most were the depictions of werewolf spirits, their eyes fierce and guardian-like.

They were depicted with an air of watchfulness, their presence both protective and haunting. The werewolves seemed to gaze upon her from the walls, their expressions conveying an ancient wisdom and an almost tangible sense of guardianship.

Lily shifted her gaze and took in the expanse of the room, its dominant gray hues enveloping her senses. Where was she?

Her hand reached out to touch the cool surface of the bed beneath her. The pillows and blanket that cocooned her emitted the strong, masculine scent of juniper.

It was a fragrance that spoke of strength and resilience, and it surrounded her like an invisible embrace.

The scent triggered a flood of memories, and Arion's face flashed through her mind along with the events that had transpired.

Could this be Arion's room?

Her heart raced as she considered the possibility. The intricate surroundings, the commanding scent – they seemed to align with the enigmatic figure she had encountered before.

Her mind raced back to their interactions, the mixture of tension and attraction that had lingered between them.

Lily's thoughts were a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity.

If this was indeed Arion's room, what did it mean?

Had he brought her here?

Was he a friend or a foe?

Lily slowly rose, her body aching as she moved. Several parts of her body were wrapped in bandages, evidence of her recent injuries.

She found herself lying on a bed that was both large and exceptionally soft.

It was the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in, reminiscent of the plush resting places she had known during her time as a pet under Alpa Xander's care three years ago.

Suddenly, a movement caught Lily's eye in the corner of the room, and she turned her head. Only then did she realize the presence of Arion, who had been standing near the window, gazing at her in silence.

His bare chest was exposed, and he wore only a pair of loose fabric pants that hung low on his hips.

Shards of glass were scattered at his feet – remnants of the shattered glass that had awakened Lily earlier. The realization dawned on her that he had been the source of the sound.

Their eyes locked, and an unspoken tension filled the air between them. Lily's heart raced as she took in his appearance, the play of shadows accentuating the contours of his form.

The room seemed to shrink in comparison to the intensity of their gaze.

Arion's presence was both captivating and enigmatic, his figure illuminated by the soft light filtering through the window.

His expression was inscrutable, a mask that concealed his thoughts and intentions.

For a prolonged moment, Arion remained rooted in his spot, his expression inscrutable. His gaze didn't waver, staying fixed on Lily without so much as a blink.

As he stood there, his thoughts and intentions remained veiled, a mystery that left Lily wondering. What was going through his mind?

The uncertainty of his motives added to the tension that hung in the air between them.

Was he contemplating his next move?

Assessing her?

Recalling their previous encounters?

Lily's mind raced with possibilities, each speculation adding to the intrigue of the moment.

In the silence, the weight of their unspoken interaction hung heavy. It was a test of wills, a silent exchange of questions and answers that played out in their locked gazes.

Finally, as if reaching a decision, Arion's lips parted slightly, breaking the stillness. "You're awake," he stated, his voice low and resonant, the words carrying an undercurrent of something that Lily couldn't quite decipher.

His utterance only added to the layers of ambiguity that surrounded him. Lily's heart raced as she tried to read his intentions, but his enigmatic demeanor kept her guessing.

Lily gingerly pushed back the blanket and inched her way to a sitting position on the bed. To her relief, she found herself no longer bare, now clad in a smooth linen dress that draped her form.

However, the fabric was so sheer that its intended function seemed to be more aesthetic than practical. Its thinness and translucent quality sent a shiver of unease down her spine.

Her gaze shifted to the bandages that covered her wounds, and a furrow formed between her brows.

She couldn't help but wonder if Arion had been the one to tend to her injuries.

But that seemed unlikely, didn't it?

Her mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts. Arion had always seemed enigmatic and mysterious, his intentions clouded in ambiguity.

Could he really have been the one to dress her wounds, to care for her in her vulnerable state?