Coming back late from meetings

Coming back late from meetings
Her nails dug into her palms as she stepped closer to the window. The glass was cool beneath her fingertips, the faint condensation from her breath fogging up the edges.
Still nothing.
She let out a frustrated groan, throwing her head back before slamming a hand against the wooden frame.
“Where is he?!”
The silence that followed only irritated her more.
She turned on her heel, storming back across the room, her frustration bubbling over. Should she just go to bed? Would he even come back?
No. No way in hell was she waiting for him. She was going to bed first.
She wasn’t some lost little girl waiting for a ghost of a man to return.
And yet, her eyes drifted back to the window. Just once more. Just to check.
He wasn't out there or in sight. She sighed.
She would sleep now but she ended up on the couch again instead of her bed.
Seraphina hadn’t meant to wait for him.
At least, that’s what she told herself as she sat curled up on the worn-out couch, arms crossed, eyes flickering toward the door every so often.
The soft hum of the television played in the background, some crime drama she had long stopped paying attention to.
The bowl of popcorn beside her sat untouched now, a few stray kernels scattered on the cushion.
She had promised herself she didn’t care where Adolphus was or when he’d return.
And yet, exhaustion crept in, dragging her eyelids down with a weight she couldn’t fight.
Eventually, she dozed off, the dim light of the TV flickering against her face.
Adolphus had returned.
The sleek black car pulled into the drive, its tires crunching softly against the gravel.
The engine cut off, leaving only the whispers of the night—distant howls, rustling leaves, the occasional shift of movement in the trees.
The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, grounding him as he stepped out.
Before he could reach the house, two of his men approached—Johan and Marcus, both standing with their arms crossed, their expressions unreadable.
“Alpha,” Johan greeted, voice low and formal.
Adolphus arched a brow, sensing the tension before a word was spoken. “What is it?”
“A problem,” Marcus said, glancing toward the woods, as if checking for prying ears.
Adolphus exhaled sharply.
He was tired, worn from a long day, but duty never slept.
Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the joint, a small, dimly lit gathering space where the pack often met for informal discussions.
It wasn’t much—just a wooden structure with a few tables, a bar that barely served anything strong, and a flickering lantern casting shadows against the walls.
Inside, a few other men were already waiting, their expressions grim.
The scent of smoke and whiskey clung to the air, but Adolphus ignored it, his sharp gaze scanning the room.
“What’s the issue?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for unnecessary chatter.
Johan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “There’s been a breach in the contract with the other people.”
Silence followed. The other people—a vague term, but everyone in the room knew exactly who they were referring to.
“Their side or ours?” Adolphus asked, voice even, though a dangerous edge lingered beneath it.
“They claim it’s on our end,” Marcus answered. “They said we didn’t hold up our part of the deal.”
“That’s bullshit.” Adolphus’ jaw clenched. “We followed the terms to the latter.”
“They don’t think so,” Johan muttered. “And if they decide to act on it… we could have a real problem.”
Adolphus exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. The contract was delicate, a carefully balanced agreement that kept his pack safe and their enemies at bay. If it was truly broken, then war could be on the horizon.
And war meant casualties.
“I’ll look into it,” he said finally, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority. “But if they think they can twist this to their advantage, they’ll regret it.”
No one questioned him. No one doubted him.
Because Adolphus wasn’t just an Alpha.
He was a man who had already burned an entire family to the ground.
And if necessary, he’d do it again.

When Adolphus finally came inside his house with Seraphina, the house was dark, save for the flickering blue light of the TV casting shifting shadows against the walls.
Adolphus shut the door behind him with a quiet click, rolling his shoulders as the weight of the day settled in his bones.
He was exhausted—mentally, physically—but the sight in front of him made everything else fade.
Seraphina.
Curled up on the couch, asleep.
His sharp eyes roamed over her small frame, the rise and fall of her breathing, the way she had pulled her knees up close to her chest like she had been waiting, waiting…
His heart clenched.
Did she wait for me?
The thought struck him unexpectedly, sending a ripple through his carefully guarded emotions.
She wouldn’t, would she? She hated him—resented him, even. She wanted nothing to do with him.
And yet…
Here she was.
Adolphus stepped closer, the creak of the wooden floorboards nearly swallowed by the low hum of the TV. She hadn’t even locked the door.
A deep frown settled between his brows. Careless. Dangerous. Anyone could have walked in.
A flicker of irritation rose within him, but it was quickly smothered by something deeper, something that felt like protectiveness.
His gaze softened as he crouched beside her.
She looked peaceful in her sleep, her features relaxed in a way they never were when she was awake.
Her lashes fluttered slightly, her lips parted, a loose strand of blonde hair falling over her cheek.
Adolphus swallowed hard.
What was she doing to him?
He wanted to brush the hair away. Wanted to touch. But he didn’t.
Instead, he let himself look.
Look at the human girl who had somehow, impossibly, become his mate. His curse. His salvation. His damnation.
A flicker of regret burned deep in his chest.
He had stolen her away, torn her from the life she knew. He had ruined her world—just as she had unknowingly ruined his.
She would never forgive him.
And yet, she had waited.
Didn’t that mean something?