Mated To Alpha Kessler

As I wake up the next day, I’m overwhelmed with thoughts of agreeing to go on a date with Conor. Am I not crossing the line?

All I wanted was to have fun. I realize it’s high time I left this hotel. Not that I couldn’t afford it, but I need to be wise about my spending.

My phone starts ringing, and without looking at the caller ID, I pick it up.

Placing it to my ear, I say hello, but there’s only silence, just breathing on the other side. “Hello?” I repeat, impatience creeping into my tone. Still no answer.

Frustrated, I hissed and dropped the phone. Whoever it is will call back.

Luckily, the person called again, but I noticed it was a different number from the one that had called earlier.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

“Am I speaking to Lyra?” the caller asks.

“Yes, speaking.”

“Thank goodness! I thought I had the wrong number. We have found an apartment that suits your taste.”

“Oh, wow, that’s great! When can I see it?”

“Will today be okay with you?”

“Perfect,” I reply, realizing I have nothing planned.

Conor had talked me out of getting an apartment since I was pregnant and couldn’t stay all by myself. But I feel it’s right to have my own space. I’ll ask Emma to come stay with me in case of any eventuality.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

I know I need to assert my independence, especially now that I’m expecting. Taking a deep breath, I resolve to discuss my concerns with Conor and make a decision that feels right for me and my baby’s future.

He had helped me sort out all the necessary information, so all I had to do was check out what the house looked like.

Entering the living room, I find Conor lying on the couch. I had forgotten that I allowed him to spend the night in my hotel suite.

“Good morning, Conor. Did you sleep well?”

He just rolls his eyes at me, clearly annoyed by the obvious question.

“Of course, I didn’t sleep well,” Conor admits.

“I need to check an apartment today.”

He sits up, looking at me intently. “Can’t you please just come home?”

I shake my head firmly. “No, you’ve done enough.”

“I’m not complaining, Lyra,” Conor says earnestly. “I won’t be at peace if anything happens to you, knowing fully well that I could have prevented it by having you close.”

His words tug at my heartstrings, but I stand my ground, “I appreciate your concern, Conor, but I need to do this for myself.”

Then his cryptic message clicked. And I had to ask “What do you think will happen to me? Do you think I’m in some kind of problem?” I ask, searching for answers in his reaction.

Conor looks down, avoiding eye contact, resembling a deer caught in headlights. I feel a sense of urgency building within me. “Spill,” I urge, trying to coax him into sharing what’s on his mind.

“Not that I’m saying you’re in any sort of problem, but seeing Zach here made me think that he might be trouble for you.”

I study Conor’s face, trying to discern if he’s telling the truth or not. His sincerity seems genuine, but doubts linger. Then, a thought drops into my mind.

“That reminds me, Conor,” I begin cautiously, “I know you and Zach had an ugly past based on the way you were at each other’s necks the last time.”

Conor’s demeanor shifts, he looks lost and drained all of a sudden, his eyes snapping at me as if dreading the question I just posed. I sense his inner conflict, a silent battle raging within him as if he fears the repercussions of revealing the truth.

“So, if you know Zach, does it mean you know Kessler?” I continue, pressing on despite his obvious unease. “Kessler and Zach are close pals, meaning that you all are likely to have the same circle of friends.”

Conor’s silence speaks volumes, confirming my suspicions. I brace myself for whatever truth he’s been hiding.

“What is it, Conor? Are you okay?” I inquire, noticing his sudden shift in demeanor.

“I know Kessler,” he confesses, his words catching me off guard.

“What?” I exclaim in surprise.

“Yes, I know him. We’re family. He’s my cousin,” Conor reveals.

I’m taken aback by his revelation, my mind reeling with the implications. Slowly, I sink onto the couch, trying to process this newfound information.

“So, tell me,” I begin cautiously, “how much do you know about me, Kessler, and whatever else you’ve been hiding?”

“I know that you were his mate,” Conor admits.

“Wow,” is all I manage to say, feeling a pang of pain shoot through my chest as I press my hand against it, trying to soothe my aching heart.

I continue, trying to gather my thoughts. “So, what made you confront Zach that way? You were pissed when you saw him at your place.”

Conor moves closer, gently taking my hands and locking eyes with me. His gaze urged me to reconsider delving deeper into this tangled web of secrets. “Why do you want to know?” he asks softly. “Why don’t you just let it lie?”

I look at Conor, weighing the options in my mind. Ultimately, I decided to let it go for now.

“Okay, I won’t push you to tell me,” I say, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “But if I find out the truth and it hurts, I’ll be mad that I didn’t hear it from you.”

Conor groans, clearly torn. “Oh, Lyra, you’re making it difficult for me,” he admits. “I’ll just say, we used to be friends until things went south.”

His words leave me with more questions than answers, but I know pushing further won’t lead anywhere good. For now, I’ll have to be content with the fragments of truth Conor has revealed.

“Whatever made it go south must have been huge,” I stated, noticing the hurt in Conor’s eyes. It’s as if my words have dredged up memories he had long buried.

Sensing his discomfort, I decided to drop the subject. “Okay, I’ll order breakfast while I go to see the apartment,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood.

Conor nods silently, releasing my hand as he does so. It’s clear that some wounds run deep, and for now, it’s best to give him space to heal.

I return to the room, freshen up, and slip into a comfortable flowing gown. Stepping outside, I find Conor dressed in different attire.

“How come you’re changing into other clothes?” I ask, curious.

“I own this hotel, and I have my room and things on this same floor.”

I playfully smack him on the chest and tease, “And you chose to spend the night here on my couch. You’re weird.”

Conor laughs at my teasing remark.

“Let’s go so I can drive you,” he offers.

“Aren’t you needed at work?” I inquire, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s the perk of being a CEO,” he replies with a smirk.

I roll my eyes.

Arriving at the place, I’m struck by the serene atmosphere of the neighborhood. Everything seems peaceful and inviting.

Kate, their agent, welcomes me warmly, her cheeks flushing slightly as she notices Conor standing behind me.

We’re ushered in, and everything is already put in place. The living room is spacious, and the rooms are big enough. It’s a three-bedroom apartment, and the kitchen has everything it needs. The bathroom even has a jacuzzi.

“I love it,” I exclaim, unable to contain my excitement.

Conor gets a call and steps outside to take it, but he returns to tell me, “I have to leave now, but I’ll send my driver to come to pick you up.”

Before he leaves, he draws me closer and gives me a peck on my forehead. This whole experience is new to me, but I choose to bask in it, grateful for Conor’s support.

“Okay, bye,” I bid farewell to him as he prepared to leave.

When it’s time to pay, Kate informs me that it’s already been taken care of.

“By whom?” I inquire, puzzled.

“The person doesn’t want to disclose their identity.”

“Oh, okay,” I responded, suspecting it might be Conor. I make a mental note to thank him and to let him know not to worry about paying my bills again.

Suddenly, I feel the need for fresh air and move towards the back door through the kitchen. Stepping outside, I’m overcome by a strange feeling, as if something is lurking behind me.

Before I can react, I sense a sharp pain like a needle prick, and I struggle against whoever or whatever it is. But it’s futile, as darkness envelops me, and I lose consciousness.