Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride

Sebastian’s POV

I could hear the conversation between the two people, but Emilia beneath me was completely unaware.

A wicked idea formed. If this woman wanted me to put on a show, she’d better be ready to perform.

I leaned closer to Emilia’s ear, adjusting my grip to make her gasp. "Your sister’s here," I murmured. "Better make it convincing."

My other hand grabbed her slim waist and squeezed hard.

"Ah!" Her cry was sharp, genuine.

I looked at her current state and said, "Still not convincing enough. Let me help you more."

Something drove me to lean down and kiss her neck, my tongue licking along one side as an electric shock of sensation ran through me.

I released my grip on her wrists and pulled her into my arms.

I kissed her neck forcefully, grazing it with my canine teeth, as if searching for a place to mark her.

Ryder roared in my mind, "Mark her, mark our mate."

Emilia let out a loud moan. Her moaning was definitely heard by whoever was eavesdropping outside.

Because I heard Linda’s sharp intake of breath through the door, followed by Tiffany’s surprised voice, "But why don’t you talk to Emilia tomorrow? It’s almost one in the morning now."

Their conversation brought me back to my senses a bit.

Emilia seized the opportunity and pushed me away with her hands, keeping her distance.

Her face was flushed as she said breathlessly, "Someone’s at the door. Let me go. I need to answer it."

I looked at the red, swollen kiss marks on her neck that I had made.

I released her immediately, settling back with a satisfied smirk.

She shot me a glare and scrambled off the bed, hurrying to open the door. "What’s the matter?"

I couldn’t see Linda’s face, but I heard her sharp gasp. "Please lower your voice. Don’t think we don’t know what you both are doing!"

Footsteps moved away quickly—Linda, running away.

Then Tiffany’s delighted voice: "Emilia, you and my brother..."

"We’re just fooling around..." Emilia’s explanation sounded mortified.

"It doesn’t matter. You go on, go on. Do whatever you want." My sister’s footsteps faded quickly, practically bouncing with glee.

The door closed. Emilia turned to me, horror and fury warring on her face. She rubbed her wrists, backing toward the guest room.

I lunged forward and caught her arm. "Do you think it’s over?"

"What else do you want? I’m going to fall apart!"

"I just performed as a loving husband in front of your sister for you."

Emilia’s face turned red with anger. "I don’t think you beating me on the bed just now counts as performing love."

"Beating? Such a serious accusation? Maybe you should look in a mirror and see whether it looks like beating or like a couple with a good sex life."

"You’re just making excuses!" Then she looked down at the loose bathrobe on her body, realizing what Linda and Tiffany had seen her looking like, and added, "Even if they misunderstood, you still hurt me."

After saying this, she was about to go back to sleep in her Harry Potter cupboard.

I immediately blocked her way. "I’ve already helped you. Now I need you to write me a guarantee."

"What?"

I replied coolly, "That you’ll never touch my things without permission again. Or you’ll compensate me with your most precious possession."

I looked her up and down deliberately. "Though I don’t see anything valuable on you."

"Yes, there’s nothing I can use for compensation, so let me go."

"How can I let you go so easily?" I pointed at her ear. "I’ll take that. Although it looks cheap, it should mean something special to you."

Her hand flew to her earring, eyes widening.

Bingo. I guessed it right. She always wears these worthless earrings.

"No. Absolutely not."

The more she refused, the more certain I became. "You have to give it to me regardless. Do you want to take it off yourself, or should I help you?"

"I said no." Her voice rose. "If you want it forcefully, I’ll call out for someone."

I stepped closer, crowding her space. "Well, call as you wish. Your sister is right next door. She’ll see if we’re really a lovey-dovey couple."

I reached for her ear.

"Hey, wait a minute—"

She took a deep breath, and suddenly her whole attitude changed. A slow, tempting smile appeared on her lips as she put her arms around my neck.

"Actually," she purred, "the most precious thing to me isn’t this pair of earrings, but..." She paused, her eyes locked on mine. "You know. A woman’s most precious thing."

After saying this, she suddenly jumped up and wrapped herself around me, her legs around my waist. I was afraid she would fall, so I had to reach out and hold her, letting her entire body hang on me.

I glared at her angrily. What was this woman going crazy about now!

"Do you still want it?" She leaned closer and began pulling at my shirt that was already unbuttoned for shower. "My most precious thing? If you want it, I’ll give it to you. Anyway, sooner or later, it will be yours."

She even rested her head against my neck, her warm breath touching my skin. The fresh scent of her body wash after the shower drifted into my nose. The mate bond pulled tight in my chest, Ryder howling with desire.

For one moment, I couldn’t think straight.

The fear clawed at my throat—the memories of the betrayal, the loss of control—

I shoved her away, breathing hard. "Fifteen seconds. Disappear from my sight."

She’d successfully saved herself.

And as I watched her run to her room, I realized with growing anger: this woman was going to drive me crazy.

Later that night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that clever smile of hers.

Feeling annoyed, I sat up and turned on the lamp beside my bed.

I looked at a photograph on the table—wait, when did that get there?

Emilia’s face smiled up at me from the frame.

With an angry sound, I turned it face-down.

I’d met annoying people before. But I’d never met anyone who stayed in my thoughts quite like this.