Chapter 152: Morning After

Seraphine's POV

I woke to warmth wrapped around me like a second skin, the kind that seeped into bones and made everything else fade away. My body ached in ways I'd never felt before—deep muscle soreness, tender spots along my thighs and hips, a pleasant throb between my legs. The room smelled like sex and claiming, thick and unmistakable.

We did that, my wolf purred, satisfaction rolling through the bond. All night. Over and over.

I remembered every second. The living room first, urgent and desperate against the wall. Then the hallway. The bed eventually, where things had somehow gotten even more intense. Kaelen's mouth on my throat, his hands everywhere, his body claiming mine until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.

My wolf begged to seal the bond. Had practically begged for him to make it permanent. And he'd given us everything we asked for and more.

I shifted slightly, testing my limbs. Everything protested, but not in a bad way. The injuries from Damien—the deep gashes on my leg, the bruises—barely registered anymore.

Carefully, I stretched my right leg. The one Damien had torn into. It moved smoothly, no sharp pain, just a faint tightness where the wounds had closed. I flexed my toes, rotated my ankle. All good.

Werewolf healing, I thought. Mixed with whatever the hell is in Kaelen's saliva.

Because he'd licked those wounds closed last night between rounds. Had run his tongue over every mark Damien left, erasing them one by one while I shivered beneath him.

The memory sent heat pooling low in my belly again. I pushed it away, focusing on the emptiness creeping in instead. The hollow feeling settling in my chest like stones.

Damien was dead. The bastard who'd killed my family, who'd made me watch as he tore them apart—gone. I'd wanted his death for so long it had become part of my identity.

Now what?

We have Kaelen, my wolf offered, like that solved everything.

Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. I wasn't ready to think about it yet.

I needed to move. My eyes landed on Kaelen's face, relaxed in sleep in a way I'd never seen before. Both sets of eyes closed, silver hair falling across his forehead, lips slightly parted. He looked younger like this. Almost peaceful.

My chest tightened. Something warm and unfamiliar twisted behind my ribs.

The notebook, I remembered suddenly. That green leather journal he gave me.

It was still in the garden cottage. I wanted it back. Wanted to write down what happened last night before the details faded.

Moving carefully, I started to extract myself from Kaelen's arms. He had me pinned pretty thoroughly—one arm across my waist, the other tucked under my head, one leg thrown over both of mine.

His brow furrowed. A low sound rumbled in his chest, distinctly unhappy. His arm tightened reflexively.

Shit.

His eyes opened—all four of them at once, black pupils expanding as they locked onto me.

"Where are you going?" His voice came out rough with sleep.

"Just... I need to get something."

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze dropped to my legs. I saw the moment he registered that I was moving normally.

"Your leg," he said, surprise flickering across his face.

"It's better. Mostly healed."

His hand moved to my thigh, fingers tracing where the worst gash had been. Now it was just pink new skin. "You were attacked last night. By Damien. And now you want to go wandering around alone?"

"I'm not wandering. I'm going to the cottage."

"Why?"

"There's something I need to get. That green notebook you gave me—it's still there."

Understanding crossed his face, followed immediately by stubborn protectiveness. "I'll come with you."

"Kaelen, it's just across the garden—"

"I don't care if it's ten feet away." He was already moving, untangling himself from the sheets. "You're not going anywhere alone."

I wanted to argue. But the look on his face stopped me. The set of his jaw, the gold burning brighter in his eyes—this wasn't negotiable.

He's scared, I realized. Actually scared of losing us.

Something warm unfurled in my chest.

"Fine," I said quietly. "You can come."

He relaxed slightly, nodding. Then he was up and moving, grabbing clothes from the closet. I watched him dress—dark pants, a black shirt that he didn't bother buttoning all the way. My eyes caught on the mark I'd left on his throat, twin punctures surrounded by a bruise.

Mine, my wolf said possessively.

Yeah. Mine.

I found my own clothes scattered around the room. My shirt was inside out. My pants had a button missing. I didn't care.

Kaelen waited by the door, watching me dress with an intensity that made my skin prickle. When I finally crossed to him, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah."

We stepped out into the hallway. Morning light streamed through the windows. The air outside smelled like pine and snow, crisp and sharp in my lungs.

We headed down the stairs and out toward the garden. The snow crunched under our feet. Kaelen stayed close, his hand hovering near the small of my back.

The cottage came into view, smoke curling from the chimney. We were maybe fifty feet away when a familiar voice called out.

"Well, well. Look who finally emerged."

I turned to see Lucian leaning against a tree, arms crossed and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. From the way his nose twitched, he'd already picked up on exactly what Kaelen and I had been doing all night.

"Morning, Alpha," he said, voice dripping with amusement. His eyes slid to me. "Luna. Nice to see you up and about."

Heat flooded my face. Kaelen let out a low warning growl.

"Shut up, Lucian."

"What? I'm just saying good morning." His grin widened. His gaze dropped deliberately to my throat. "Looks like you two had an eventful night."

"Lucian." Kaelen's voice dropped dangerously low.

"The whole territory can smell it, you know." Lucian pushed off the tree. "Pretty sure there's not a single wolf within a mile who doesn't know exactly what happened."

My face was on fire. I wanted to sink into the snow and disappear. My hand moved automatically to my throat, fingers brushing over the raised mark.

Everyone knows, I thought, mortified and strangely proud at the same time.

Kaelen's eyes flashed full gold, but I caught the slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. Pride, rolling through the bond thick and satisfied.

"How was patrol?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Quiet. No movement on the borders. Damien's body was dealt with before dawn—burned and scattered." Lucian's expression sobered. "Security's doubled at all entry points."

"Good."

"Orion's already pulling financial records. Cordelia's interviewing anyone who had contact with Damien. We'll find the leak."

Kaelen nodded. "Keep me updated."

"Will do." Lucian's grin returned. "Now go get whatever you need from the cottage. And maybe... take your time."

The suggestion in his voice was unmistakable. Kaelen growled again, but there was no real heat in it. Lucian just laughed and sauntered off.

"I'm going to kill him," Kaelen muttered.

"No, you're not."

"I'm seriously considering it."

I bit back a smile and kept walking toward the cottage. Kaelen followed, close enough that I could feel his body heat. When we reached the door, I pushed it open.

The interior bore traces of last night's violence. The window had been boarded up with rough planks, gaps letting in thin streams of cold air that made the fire struggle to warm the space. Broken glass still glittered in the corners where someone had swept it hastily. The desk sat crooked, pushed away from the wall during the struggle. But there, miraculously untouched on its surface, sat the green leather notebook.