The sudden acapella

The sudden acapella
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m not hungry.”
He didn’t respond. He simply picked up his own plate and sat at the small, rustic table in the center of the kitchen.
Her teeth ground together.
The nerve of him.
Her body, however, betrayed her again when her stomach let out another quiet growl.
She exhaled sharply, hating everything about this.
Hating that she was here. Hating that he was so damn composed while she felt like she was coming undone. Hating that she could still feel the warmth of where he had carried her last night, even though she shouldn’t remember.
And above all, hating that she wanted to sit down and eat.
But she wouldn’t.
Not yet.
She turned on her heel, stalking toward the window instead, gripping the wooden frame as she stared outside, pretending to be fascinated by the empty stretch of land beyond the trees.
She wasn’t.
She just didn’t want to look at him anymore. Didn’t want to acknowledge the tension crackling between them, didn’t want to feel the weight of his presence pulling her in like a force of gravity she couldn’t escape.
Adolphus, for his part, ate in silence.
Seraphina didn’t move from the window.
She refused to be the first to break.
Seraphina’s stomach betrayed her again, the low, insistent rumble filling the silence between them. She clenched her jaw, determined not to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
Instead, she did the only thing she could think of to cover up the humiliating sound—she started to sing.
Softly at first, her voice barely above a whisper, but clear enough to carry through the kitchen.
“I’d be a fearless leader…”
Her fingers tapped idly against the window frame.
“I’d be an alpha type…”
Adolphus froze mid-bite.
She kept going, her voice gaining confidence, though she still refused to look at him.
“When everyone believes ya, what’s that like?”
She wasn’t even sure why she chose that song, but the words felt too fitting to ignore.
An alpha. A leader.
A man who always got his way. If she were in his position, she wouldn’t have kidnapped someone just because fate demanded it.
And if she were stronger, if she had power of her own—she wouldn’t be stuck here at all.
A low chuckle broke through her thoughts.
She snapped her head toward him.
Adolphus sat back in his chair, one brow arched, his lips twitching like he was desperately resisting a laugh.
Oh, that only made her sing louder.
“I'm so sick of running as fast as I can…”
And she did run well, Adolphis mused.
While she continued, ‘Wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a werewolf!”
“Butterfly?” he mumbled so she sang louder still in her spot.
“and I'm so sick of them coming at me again!”
And Adolphus finally let out a short, amused huff, shaking his head
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered
Seraphina’s jaw tightened the moment the words left his mouth.
“You’re ridiculous.”
She didn’t take that well. Not one bit.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, and before she could stop herself, the complaints came pouring out.
“Oh, I’m ridiculous?” She scoffed, turning to face him fully, arms now crossed. “You’re the one who disappears without a word, like some mysterious, brooding alpha stereotype. You come and go as you please, like I don’t even exist in this house. Like I’m not—”
She cut herself off, suddenly aware of how heated she’d gotten.
Adolphus just raised an eyebrow, amused, unbothered. “Like you’re not what?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Like I’m not waiting for you. Like I’m not thinking about you even when I don’t want to. Like I don’t care when you leave.
Seraphina huffed. “Forget it.”
“No, go on,” he leaned back against the counter, arms folded, watching her like she was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all day. “Let’s hear it. What’s really bothering you, little human?”
“Nothing,” she snapped.
But her heart was hammering, and heat crawled up her neck. She’d already been looking for an excuse to pick a fight with him. A reason to let out everything that had been building inside her since he left.
And now, with her annoyance cracking open into something rawer—something vulnerable—she made a mistake.
Without thinking, without realizing, she complained about him not coming home.
Home.
The word hung heavy between them, like an unspoken truth neither of them was ready to admit.
Adolphus went still.
His gaze darkened, the playful glint fading. “Home?” His voice was softer now, unreadable.
Seraphina swallowed hard. She wished she could take it back.
But it was too late.
Adolphus moved before she could react, closing the space between them in a heartbeat.
Seraphina’s breath hitched as her back met the wall.
He was too close, too warm, too much.
His scent—cedar, smoke, and the wild untamed woods—wrapped around her, drowning out every thought except him.
His black eyes, darkened with something raw and dangerous, pinned her in place.
“You are home.” His voice was low, a deep growl laced with certainty. A vow. “My home, the home I desire,”
His hand lifted, fingertips brushing her cheek, tracing the edge of her jaw, down to her throat where her pulse thrummed wildly beneath his touch. She was trembling.
“You are where I want to come back to.” His lips hovered near her ear, voice thick with possession, longing, something deeper than either of them could name.
“You are the fate written into my bones, the reason my heart beats, the curse and the blessing the Moon Goddess gave me. The only prayer I’ve ever had answered.”
“And even though you're my damnation, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His nose grazed her skin, breath hot against her neck.
“My storm, my salvation. My ruin, my forever.”
A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he pressed a slow, claiming kiss to the delicate skin of her throat. She gasped, her knees turning weak, her body betraying her.
No.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She wasn’t supposed to want this—want him.
But her body, her heart, the traitorous, trembling part of her soul, had already surrendered.