367- Claimed by Fire and Instinct
POV Seraphine Valerian:
I smiled when they complied, and the children cheered and jumped even more.
I lifted my face and caught Viktor drinking quietly, his gaze fixed on me. I shivered inside, pretending not to notice. I could only think of his kisses that morning, the shame of being dismissed afterward like that.
Why was he staring at me? Was he playing with me?
“What else do we have in common, Seraphine?” Raluca drew my attention again.
I remembered that my great-aunt Jasmina had lived there, as had many of the women in the cemetery who had come from Vila Rósia. Had they known them? Had they shared conversations and curiosities like this?
A wave of jealousy washed over me—for not being the first. For thinking that Viktor had been married to my ancestor. He had loved her and killed her. It was complex, confusing.
“Every month you gather to honor the full moon. The gypsies also revere it, but in a divine sense. They make bonfires to celebrate its phases, especially this one. They call it ‘marinha,’ in an affectionate way.”
“Look, very similar indeed!” Eugen, her husband, added. “And we all love nature, herbs, and forests. You could be a she-wolf.”
“Or you, a gypsy.”
“And live only eighty years at most? No, thank you!” Ionuț refused, making them laugh.
“I know something else we all love: dancing!” The young woman stood up and pulled him. “Come on, Eugen! It’s been a while since we moved our hips!”
Others joined in, singing a regional Tharnak song, circling the fire. Even Daciana went to the center, laughing.
I searched for Viktor again. I was disappointed—he wasn’t looking at me but at the gathering, his expression serious, thoughtful.
Something was troubling him, and I imagined he was thinking about Adelina, worried. I felt a strong urge to go to him, to hug him, to comfort him. I held back, content to admire him.
In a way, I silently praised his love for her.
I had spent my whole life without my father, and there Viktor seemed ready to move mountains to go after the girl he considered his daughter, unable to accept being separated from her.
“Didn’t you say gypsies like to dance? Why are you sitting?” Ionuț stood up in one quick motion and held out his hand. “Come, I’ll help you.”
Maybe that was exactly what I needed—to forget everything and just let go. I was about to accept his kindness when, suddenly, a low growl vibrated toward us. At once, he looked back and stepped away, quickly retreating.
I was startled when I saw Viktor’s eyes in that golden shade, fixed on me, his expression furious. Was it him? Just because the young man had offered to help me up?
Ionuț even disappeared from sight, and I felt shaken, lost. Other people noticed, watching us.
I pretended nothing had happened and went to join Daciana around the fire, my legs like jelly and my mind in turmoil.
What did that mean?
(...)
POV Viktor Averwyn:
I followed Seraphine with my eyes, managing to tame, at least a little, the possessive feeling that suddenly attacked me just from seeing that smug alpha smiling, about to touch her. The bastard startled and backed off, knowing very well what I’d do to him if he pushed his luck.
I caught the looks from those nearby, because it was the first public display I made that she belonged to me. I hadn’t even thought about it. It just came out.
Shit! I needed to control myself, calm down.
It was difficult, because her image pulled me like an invisible rope—beautiful and delicate in that blue dress, flowers in her hair. The flames made her curls blaze like living fire, her soft skin inviting my touch.
That girl wouldn’t leave my mind. From afar, I could still keep my balance. But up close… the urge was to throw her over my shoulder and take her to bed. I needed to remember why I couldn’t do that. For her own good.
She had hypnotized me, sitting there talking to the others, speaking affectionately about her people. It was impossible not to feel a bit of guilt for tearing her away from them, right after her father’s death. But everything had been chaotic and rushed. And it had saved her life.
I crossed my arms, ignoring the conversations around me, watching her as she smiled at Daciana, who held her hands and spun her around. She moved her hips gracefully, her hair nearly reaching her waist swaying. The two of them glided, and for a moment, the high flames hid her from me.
The rhythm really did sound gypsy, and Seraphine began to dance like one, swaying her arms, moving with a natural sensuality that instantly had me fixated.
She moved toward the musicians, picking up a tambourine and tapping it lightly against her hip as she walked and spun around the fire.
Fire burned inside me. It ran through my veins, igniting my senses. I could smell her even from a distance, mixed with the scent of embers. My whole body reacted, my wolf wanting to growl again. To claim.
I forgot the chaos of the damned war, the fear that Lucian might hurt Adelina. Even the cemetery nearby, which should have been a constant reminder of my limits.
I breathed her in, intoxicated. Aroused. Focused only on her.
She passed close, among the others who blurred into nothing. Her light green eyes—like water—danced into mine, glowing with life, her feelings sending new waves over my skin. Deep down, I felt that she wanted me too, silently calling.
That’s why she kissed me in the office, showed jealousy over Katarina. Whatever existed between us was intense and volatile, alive like the burning fire. It stirred my insides, drew me in, consumed me.
Someone said my name. It came from far away, but I didn’t allow it to pull me out of that strange state of physical and emotional reverence. I ignored everything and everyone. My cock demanded attention too, my wolf nearly howling at the enormous moon above us.
Seraphine moved within the circle, never stopping her swaying, never stopping looking at me through her reddish lashes, her lips parted, her expression both seduced and seducing. She drifted away for another turn around the flames—and I followed her every movement, every beat of the tambourine and my own heart.
It felt symbolic—the fire there, the full moon above. Elements of my kind and hers. Present in the vision her father had of me when she was still in her mother’s womb. And also in some of my memories of my own parents.
It all seemed connected, and that realization hit me hard. A thought struck, intense, shaking me completely. My mother’s soft voice once again telling me that my destined mate would come from an ancient, magical people. A human.
The attraction I had always felt toward Vila Rósia, which led me there more than a century ago, believing deep down I would find who I sought. I had given up fifty years ago, after Jasmina. I had felt like a fool. That shit didn’t exist—not for me. And yet…
I pushed those thoughts away. Illusions. I had to keep my feet on the ground, my mind steady—act with human rationality, not the instincts of a wolf.