Chapter 19 One perfect night II
Sage
It was such a normal question, the kind people asked on regular dates, and something about that made my chest tight.
"A teacher," I admitted. "I wanted to teach young wolves. Help them with their first shifts, show them how to control themselves." I took a sip of wine. "What about you?"
"A photographer." At my surprised look, he smiled – a real smile, not his usual smirk. "I know. Not very Alpha-like. But I loved capturing moments, freezing time."
"Why didn't you?"
His smile dimmed slightly. "Only sons don't get to chase dreams. We get duties."
The food appeared as if by magic, course after course of incredible dishes I barely tasted because I was too focused on him. The way his hands moved when he talked. The way his eyes never left mine. The way he laughed when I told him about the time I'd tried to bake a cake and nearly burned down my family's kitchen.
"I don't believe you," he said, still grinning. "How does someone burn pasta water?"
"It's a talent," I insisted, loving the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. "A very specific, very useless talent."
"I'll teach you," he said, then caught himself, the future tense hanging between us like a knife.
We both looked away, the moment too sharp, too real.
Music drifted across the rooftop – slow, romantic, the kind that belonged in movies.
"Dance with me," Keith said, standing and offering his hand.
I let him pull me up, into his arms, and this time there was no audience. No pack watching. No father to fool. Just us, swaying together under the fairy lights.
"I used to wonder," he said quietly, his breath warm against my ear, "what you were thinking during those dinners. You'd sit there, so poised, so controlled, but sometimes I'd catch you looking at me."
"You caught me every time," I corrected. "You were just polite enough to pretend you didn't."
His hand tightened on my waist. "Do you know what it did to me? Watching you across that table, knowing you belonged to him? Having to call you 'stepmother' when all I wanted was to—"
"What?" I pulled back to look at him. "What did you want?"
His eyes were dark, intense, filled with hunger that made my whole body heat. "Everything. I wanted everything."
He spun me slowly, then pulled me back closer than before. My chest pressed against his, and I could feel his heartbeat, as rapid as mine.
"The first time I saw you," he continued, "you were walking into the palace in that white dress. Looking like you'd rather be anywhere else. And I thought… God help me, I thought…she's going to burn this place down. Maybe not literally, but you were going to destroy everything. The careful order, the proper ways. My control."
"Did I?" I whispered.
"Completely." His forehead dropped to mine. "You decimated me, Sage. That first meeting, when you looked at me like you could see straight through me, I knew I was fucked."
The music shifted to something slower, more sensual, and our dancing changed with it. Less swaying, more swaying against each other. His thigh between mine, my hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.
"We should stop," I breathed, even as I pressed closer.
"We should," he agreed, his hand sliding lower on my back. "Tell me to stop."
I couldn't. Instead, I turned my face into his neck, breathing him in. He shuddered, his fingers flexing against me.
"Sage..."
"One night," I reminded him. "We get one night."
The drive back was torture. Keith drove with one hand, the other holding mine, his thumb stroking over my knuckles in a rhythm that shouldn't have been as arousing as it was. We didn't speak. We couldn't speak. The air was too charged, too full of everything we weren't saying.
He took the long way home, winding through empty streets, and I was grateful for every extra minute. At a red light, he looked over at me, and something in his expression made my breath catch.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm memorizing this," he said simply. "You, in that dress, in my car, looking at me like that. I'm memorizing everything."
The light turned green, but he didn't move until someone honked behind us.
We stopped at an overlook with a view of the city, and the moment he put the car in park, we crashed together. His mouth was desperate on mine, weeks of tension and want pouring into the kiss. I climbed over the console, straddling him, not caring that the space was too small, that the steering wheel dug into my back.
His hands were everywhere – my hair, my waist, sliding along the slit in my dress to grip my thigh. I ground against him, feeling how hard he was, how much he wanted this.
"Fuck," he groaned against my mouth. "The things I want to do to you."
"Tell me," I gasped, rocking against him.
His hands tightened on my hips, holding me still. "If I start telling you, I won't stop. And we're in a very public place in a very small car."
I laughed, breathless, and dropped my forehead to his. "Rain check?"
"God, I hope so."
We stayed there for a few more minutes, kissing slower, deeper, hands exploring but not pushing too far. Finally, reluctantly, I climbed back to my seat.
"We should go back," I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted.
"Yeah," he agreed, but didn't start the car for another moment. "Sage?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you. For tonight. For letting me have this."
The palace was dark when we arrived, everyone asleep or pretending to be. We snuck through the back entrance like teenagers, trying not to laugh when Keith nearly knocked over a vase.
At my door, we stood facing each other, neither wanting the night to end.
"Keith—"
He kissed me, soft and sweet and achingly tender. When he pulled back, his thumb traced my bottom lip.
"Goodnight, Sage."
I slipped into my room, closing the door and leaning against it. My lips still tingled, my body still hummed, and I could still smell him on my skin.