Chapter 137: The Three-Day Wait

Seraphine's POV

I didn't sleep that night.

Couldn't.

I sat by the window. Watched the moon move across the sky. Replayed every word Kaelen had said.

Three days until the bonfire.

He hadn't asked me to go. Hadn't even mentioned it.

Maybe he didn't want me there. Maybe the mark was just... physical. Heat-driven. Nothing more.

Stop it. Stop overthinking.

But my brain wouldn't shut up.

By dawn I was exhausted. Leg throbbing. Mind racing.

Then I heard footsteps on the path.

---

Day One

The knock came early. Before sunrise.

I opened the door.

Kaelen stood there holding a basket. Fresh bread. Honey. Tea that smelled like mint and something else I couldn't name.

His grey-white hair was loose. Catching the first light of dawn. All four pupils studying my face.

I suddenly realized I looked like shit. Hair tangled from a sleepless night. Still in yesterday's clothes.

"Breakfast," he said.

Not a question. Not an apology for the early hour.

Just that.

I stepped back. Let him in.

He moved around my cabin like he belonged there. Found plates. Poured tea. Set everything out on my tiny table.

We sat. Ate in silence.

I waited for him to bring up the bonfire.

He didn't.

Instead he talked about the weather. Asked about my leg. Mentioned how the east garden needed work.

Small talk. Safe talk.

Nothing that mattered.

His coat was perfectly tailored. Dark gray. Made his eyes stand out even more. He looked put-together. Confident.

Meanwhile I looked like I'd been dragged through hell.

When he left, something heavy settled in my chest.

He doesn't want me there.

I spent the afternoon in the garden. Pulling weeds. Trying not to think.

Trying not to care.

Failed at both.

---

Day Two

He showed up at noon.

Brought lunch this time. Rowan's cooking. Still warm from the kitchen.

We ate on my porch. Sun filtering through the trees. Birds singing somewhere overhead.

I'd at least managed to shower and change. Simple green shirt. Work pants. Hair tied back in a messy bun.

Nothing special.

He asked about my leg again. I lied. Said it was better.

He told me about border patrols. New rotation schedules. Guard assignments for the week.

Nothing urgent. Nothing personal.

Still no mention of the fucking bonfire.

I watched him as he talked. The way sunlight caught in his hair. The sharp line of his jaw. The controlled strength in every movement.

He was beautiful in that dangerous way. The kind that made you forget to breathe.

And I looked like a gardener. Which I was.

I almost asked. The words sat on my tongue. Ready to jump out.

But I couldn't.

If he wanted me there, he'd ask. Right?

Pride locked my jaw shut.

After he left, I stood at the window. Watched him disappear down the path toward the main house.

The bond pulsed. Uncertain. Questioning.

I turned away.

Caught my reflection in the glass. Dirt under my nails. Grass stains on my knees.

Why would he want me at the bonfire?

---

Day Three - Morning

By the third day I was losing my mind.

Kaelen showed up before I'd finished my tea.

He brought flowers. Wildflowers from the east woods. Purple and white. Still wet with morning dew.

"For your garden," he said.

I took them. Our fingers brushed.

The bond flared. Hot. Insistent.

We planted them together. Side by side in the dirt. His hands sure and gentle with the roots.

He wore black today. Simple shirt. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Showing the corded muscle in his forearms.

I was in my oldest clothes. Faded brown dress. Hem already muddy from morning work. Hair falling out of its tie.

He kept checking my leg. Making sure I wasn't putting weight on it. Adjusting my position when I leaned wrong.

But he still didn't say a goddamn word about the bonfire.

It's tonight. Hours away. And nothing.

I felt stupid. Foolish for hoping. For expecting anything.

Maybe he's already asked Vespera.

The thought hit like a punch to the gut.

Of course. She was beautiful. Confident. Whole.

Not broken and limping and covered in dirt.

Why would he choose you over her?

When he stood to leave, panic shot through my chest.

"Kaelen—"

He turned. All four pupils locked on me.

I almost asked. Almost begged.

"Thanks. For the flowers."

Something flickered across his face. Disappointment maybe. Or frustration.

"Anytime," he said.

Then he left.

I sat there in the dirt. Alone.

Hating myself for not speaking up.

Hating him for not asking.

Hating Vespera for probably being the one he did ask.

---

Day Three - Evening

Two hours until the bonfire.

I stood at my window. Watched pack members stream toward the town square.

Families. Couples. Groups of laughing friends.

Everyone heading to celebrate.

Everyone except me.

He didn't ask. Three days and nothing.

Maybe I really was just his heat solution. A convenient body when he needed one.

Maybe the mark meant jack shit after all.

He probably asked Vespera. She's probably getting ready right now. Looking perfect.

I looked down at myself.

Still in my gardening dress. Brown. Simple. Streaked with dirt from this morning's planting.

It smelled like earth and wildflowers. My hands were stained green from stems.

Hair still messy. Face bare.

I hadn't even bothered to change. Why would I?

No one's coming for me.

I walked to the basin. Started washing the dirt off my hands.

Thought about changing. Into what? For what?

I left the dress on. The mud. The flower-scented fabric.

If I was staying home, at least I'd be comfortable.

At least I wouldn't have to pretend.

My fingers brushed the bite mark on my neck.

Faded some. But still visible.

Still claiming me.

What are you afraid of? Being rejected? Or realizing you've already fallen?

I decided right then. If he didn't come in the next fifteen minutes, I wasn't going.

Wouldn't even think about it.

The knock came at minute fourteen.

I froze. Heart hammering against my ribs.

Took a breath. Opened the door.

Kaelen stood there.

Black formal coat. Silver hair pulled back. All four eyes blazing gold in the fading light.

In his hands he held a box. Simple. Wrapped in dark paper.

His gaze swept over me. Took in the muddy dress. The bare feet. The dirt under my nails.

Something in his expression softened.

"I have something for you," he said.