Chapter 141

Chapter 141
Lucian's POV

Night fell like water, moonlight quietly spilling into the depths of the dense forest. I crouched in the shadows about a hundred feet from her cabin, my massive wolf form merging with the darkness, amber eyes piercing through the tree shadows, fixed on that window glowing with the faint light of herb lamps.

The night wind carried her scent—Seraphina's unique fragrance. Every hair on my body trembled slightly, wolf instincts nearly driving me to rush forward, pull her into my embrace, mark her again with my scent.

But I couldn't.

I closed my eyes, images from years ago flooding my mind. At that Moon Initiation ceremony, the full moon hung high, silver-white moonlight descending from the heavens. In that sacred glow, I first saw her—silver-white fur shimmering with a pale blue luminescence under the moonlight, like the Moon Goddess herself descended.

Our gazes met in that moment, as if invisible forces drew us together. I reached out my hand involuntarily, and she—she actually grasped my hand.

In that instant, something deep within ignited. I understood—she was special, she was my destiny.

From that day forward, I began silently guarding her. Following from afar during training, watching her collect dewdrop herbs at dawn, watching her gently bandage injured wolf pups. I would quietly clear the paths she traveled, leave the finest prey anonymously at her herb shop door.

I never hoped she would know these things, only wanted to make her life easier, safer. Even just guarding from a distance felt deeply satisfying.

But I made a fatal mistake—I thought she loved someone else, thought she accepted her fated mate only for the pack.

After the bonding ceremony, I began building walls, using coldness to protect a heart already riddled with wounds. Until she left, I finally understood how catastrophically wrong I'd been.

I opened my eyes, a low whimper escaping my throat. My front paws carved deep marks in the earth. Each breath carried pain, yet I dared not make a sound, afraid of disturbing her.

"Moon Goddess, please give me one more chance," I prayed silently in my heart. "Let me prove I can become her true mate."

The night deepened. The cabin lights extinguished—she must have fallen asleep. I quietly rose, shifting back to human form, retrieving from my waist the carefully prepared fur blanket—silver fox pelt I'd personally hunted, soft and warm, most suitable for a pregnant female.

Moving with utmost care, I pushed open the door. Moonlight streamed through the window onto her. She lay curled on the sofa, covered only by a thin blanket, herb book still open beside her hand.

My heart clenched painfully. She must be so tired... pregnant, worrying about the cub, yet I let her bear all this alone.

I carefully draped the fur blanket over her, movements gentle as if handling the world's most precious treasure. My fingers couldn't resist lightly stroking her hair—silver-white strands glowing in the moonlight, soft as silk.

"Good night, Seraphina," I murmured soundlessly. "I'll keep watching over you both, until you're willing to accept me again, or until forever."

Before leaving, I placed tonight's catch at the door—three cleaned snow rabbits, and a small bundle of silver moon grass collected from the cliff edge. The finest pregnancy-stabilizing herb, blooming only on full moon nights. I risked discovery, all for her and the cub's health.

After finishing, I shifted back to wolf form, returning to my protective position in the forest, quietly awaiting dawn.

Seraphina's POV

Dawn light filtered through the curtains as I woke from shallow sleep. Pregnancy made my sleep light—I often woke before dawn. Groggily trying to sit up, I discovered an unfamiliar blanket covering me.

This wasn't mine.

I instantly became alert, examining it carefully. An incredibly soft fur blanket, silver-gray hairs gleaming with pearl-like luster in the morning light. I brought it close to my nose, inhaling deeply.

Lucian's scent.

My heart skipped a beat. He... he'd been here last night?

I looked around—nothing disturbed. The herb book remained open where I'd left it. He'd only covered me with a blanket?

Complex emotions churned in my chest. Anger—how dare he enter my dwelling uninvited? Hurt—only now did he know to care, but where was he before? But more than anything, an indescribable warmth.

"No." I shook my head, forcing clarity. "Don't soften. He hurt you so deeply, can one blanket make up for that?"

I walked to the window for air. Pulling back the curtain, the sight at my door made me freeze.

Three snow rabbits lay neatly arranged on the stone steps, already cleaned thoroughly. Beside them, a small bundle of silver moon grass, tied with fine vine, dewdrops still clinging to the leaves.

My breath caught. Silver moon grass... the rare herb growing only on full moon nights at cliff edges. Collecting it required enormous risk.

What dangers had he faced for this?

I opened the door, crouching to examine everything. Fresh wolf paw prints marked the ground—massive size, claws deeply embedded. These were marks left by a pureblooded Alpha running at full speed. My nose twitched slightly, following the scent trail: from deep forest, extending to my door, then back to the dense woods...

He'd guarded nearby all night?

I gripped the window frame, knuckles white. Reason reminded me: Don't be fooled by these small favors! But when I touched my belly, the cub gently kicked my palm, movements tender and calm, as if sensing its father's presence too.

"He... he stayed outside all night?" I murmured, eyes stinging slightly.

No, I couldn't cry. I'd already shed too many tears for this wolf.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Brought the rabbits inside—couldn't waste food, I needed nutrition. Carefully cradled the silver moon grass bundle, hesitating long before finally placing it in the windowsill vase.

But that fur blanket—I folded it neatly, placed it outside on the stone steps. This was my final defiance—I could accept his herbs, but not his warmth.

After finishing, I leaned against the doorframe, gazing toward the forest. Through morning mist, a massive gray figure seemed to watch quietly from deep within the woods.

"Why... why didn't you treat me like this from the start?" I asked softly. "If you had from the beginning, would we have reached this point?"

No answer. Only birdsong and wind.

I closed my eyes, palm pressed to my belly. The cub moved again.

"Little one," I said quietly, "your father is a complicated wolf. He loves me—I can feel it. But he also hurt me, very deeply. Mama doesn't know... whether to forgive him..."