Chapter 120: The Shaw (2)

Seraphine's POV

"Damien's wolves know our territory too well. They're moving through areas they shouldn't know exist."

I thought about what Jason and Derek had said. About traitors. About someone feeding information to enemies.

"Maybe you have a spy." I kept my voice neutral. Focused on the soil.

He looked at me. Sharp. Assessing. "What makes you say that?"

"Common sense." I shrugged. "If they know your land that well, someone's telling them."

Silence. Long and heavy.

Then: "I'll handle it."

"Will you?" I turned to face him. "Or will you just assume the worst about people and make decisions based on suspicion instead of evidence?"

His jaw tightened. "That's not—"

"Like you did with me?" I pushed. Angry now. "Like you do with everyone who doesn't fit into your perfect little plans?"

"I was wrong about you." He said it quietly. Firmly. "I know that now."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

I searched his face. Looking for lies. For manipulation.

Found nothing but truth.

Shit.

I turned back to the flowers. "Just... be careful. I don't want more innocent people dying because someone's playing games."

"I will."

We fell back into silence. Working side by side. His movements getting slightly less terrible as he learned the pattern.

Then he grabbed a delicate seedling. Started pulling.

"Stop!" I lunged forward. Grabbed his wrist. "What the fuck are you doing? That's not a weed!"

He froze. Looked down at the half-uprooted plant in his hand. "It looked like—"

"It's a flower, you idiot! A baby flower!" I took it from him carefully. Tried to replant it. "This is why I said don't touch things you don't recognize!"

"My mistake."

"Your mistake almost killed a perfectly good plant!" I patted the soil around the poor seedling. Praying it would survive. "Stick to the obvious weeds. The big ugly ones."

"Understood."

But there was amusement in his voice. Like he was trying not to laugh.

I glared at him. "This isn't funny."

"I didn't say it was."

"You're thinking it."

"I'm thinking several things." He sat back. Brushed dirt off his hands. "None of them are about the plant."

My breath caught.

The way he looked at me. Dark eyes focused. Intent.

The bond flared. Hot. Insistent.

I stood abruptly. "I need more tools. From the cottage."

"Seraphine—"

But I was already walking away. Putting distance between us.

He stood too. Caught my arm.

I spun around. "What?"

He was holding something. A package wrapped in brown paper.

"I brought you something." He held it out. "From the town."

I stared at the package. "I don't want—"

"Just look at it." His voice softened. "Please."

Against my better judgment, I took it. Unwrapped the paper.

Inside: seed packets. Four of them. Carefully labeled.

Lavender. Daisy. Bluebell. Baby's breath.

Each one had planting instructions written in neat handwriting on the back.

"The shopkeeper said they'd grow well in this soil." Kaelen explained. Voice quiet. Almost hesitant. "I thought... for your garden. Since you seem to care about it."

I stared down at the seeds.

Not jewelry. Not expensive gifts. Not things meant to impress or control.

Just... seeds. Simple, practical, perfect seeds.

Exactly what I actually needed.

My throat tightened. My chest constricted.

Heat bloomed low in my belly. Not anger. Something else. Something dangerous.

My skin felt too tight. Too sensitive. Every nerve ending screamed for contact.

No. Don't do this. Don't let him get to you.

"I don't need these." But my voice shook. Broke on the last word. "I don't need anything from you."

My hands trembled. The seeds slipped from my fingers. Fell into the grass.

"Seraphine." He caught my wrist. Gentle but firm. "Wait."

I stopped. Didn't turn around.

His touch burned. Sent electricity racing up my arm. Made my pulse spike.

The spring heat intensified. My body temperature climbing. Sweat beading at my temples despite the cool air.

"I won't question you anymore." His voice was low. Serious. "I won't doubt you. I won't have anything to do with Vespera. I promise you that."

I turned slowly.

He was close. Too close. Close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

Close enough to feel his body heat. To smell his scent. Pine and earth and something uniquely him.

My wolf surged forward. Eager. Desperate.

Mate. Ours. Take him.

I shuddered. Fighting it. Fighting myself.

"I'll give you the quiet life you want." He continued. Voice steady. "No politics. No drama. Just... peace. If you'll let me."

The spring fever roared through me. Made my skin too hot. Made my pulse race.

Made my knees weak.

The bond sang between us. Happy. Eager. Pulling me toward him like gravity.

My breathing quickened. Shallow. Uneven.

I could feel myself slipping. Losing control. My body betraying every logical thought.

His pupils dilated. I watched it happen. Watched his nostrils flare slightly.

Oh fuck.

He could smell it on me. That sweet scent. Arousal.

My cheeks burned. My neck. My entire body felt like it was on fire.

He took a step closer. His breathing changed. Deeper. Rougher.

The space between us vanished. Inches. Mere inches.

I could feel the heat radiating off him. Could see the want in his eyes.

My resolve crumbled. Piece by piece.

Just one touch. One kiss. What harm could it do?

My wolf howled. Victorious.

I swayed forward. Almost unconsciously.

His hand lifted. Reaching for my face.

His fingers brushed my cheek—

Reality slammed into me like a freight train.

"No." I yanked my wrist free. Stumbled backward. "No. I can't—"

I ran.

Didn't look back. Just ran straight for the cottage door.

Slammed it behind me. Locked it.

My body screamed in protest. Every cell demanding I go back. Let him finish what we'd started.

The heat consumed me. Made thinking impossible. Made breathing difficult.

I staggered into the main room. Spotted the watering can by the sink.

Still half-full from this morning.

I grabbed it. Didn't hesitate.

Tipped it over my head.

Cold water crashed over me. Ice-cold from sitting overnight in the unheated cottage.

The shock of it stole my breath. Made me gasp.

Early spring water. Still carrying winter's chill.

It soaked through my hair. Ran down my face. My neck. Plastered my shirt to my skin.

I kept pouring. Even when the can was empty. Shaking it for the last few drops.

The cold sank into my bones. Drove away the fever heat. The insane arousal.

My teeth started chattering. My whole body shuddering.

Goosebumps erupted across my arms. My legs. Every inch of exposed skin.

I dropped the can. Wrapped my arms around myself.

Shivering. Dripping. Freezing.

But the heat was gone. The desperation. The loss of control.

My wolf whimpered. Hurt. Confused.

He promised. He said he'd give us peace. Why did we run?

Because promises were lies. Because peace was an illusion. Because every time I let my guard down, someone tried to destroy me.

I slid down the wall. Sat on the floor. Still shaking.

Water pooled around me. My breath came out in visible puffs in the cold air.

The cottage had no heating yet. Just the fireplace I hadn't bothered to light.

I wrapped my arms tighter. Tried to generate warmth.

Failed.

But at least I was thinking clearly again. At least I had control.

I wouldn't make that mistake again.

Not even for him.

Especially not for him.

The cold seeped deeper. Made my fingers numb. My toes.

But I stayed there. On the floor. Dripping and shivering.

Better to freeze than to burn.

Better to be alone than to be destroyed.

And that was exactly how I needed it to be.