Chapter eighteen

Serafine's POV 

I looked down at my trembling hands as I stayed curled behind my bed, drawing my knees to my chest. The lock clicked and the door opened.

My heart pounded. Eyes bulged as Alpha Bran stormed in, wearing only pants.

Sweat glistened on his skin, rolling down his hard chest and disappearing into the waistband of his pants. His hair was damp, curling slightly at his temples. He was breathing hard. His eyes glowed gray and were fixed on me.

They were familiar, like the one I'd just seen in the forest. But that was a beast, and standing before me now was Alpha Bran. He could act like a beast but he was no beast in form.

Fear embraced me as he took a step closer to me. I moved back instinctively. My eyes trailed from his hard face to his upper body. His bulging arms, stone chest, toned abs and extremely flat belly.

I swallowed. 

This man could act as a beast, but he was also undeniably gorgeous.

My fear was replaced with a sudden urge to go to him. I imagined myself in his embrace. His large arms wrapped around my tiny body. 

I swallowed again. 

His cedar scent mixed with sweat filled the room. It made me salivate. And I hated that I did. I hated how my body was reacting to him.

My pulse raced for reasons I didn’t want to understand. He closed the distance between us. Grabbed my arms and lifted me to my feet. His gaze fell on my chest. It remained there. Heat grew in between my thighs.

The space between us grew thinner. I tried to take a step back but he pulled me to him. My breast collided against his chest. Electric feelings sparked inside me. I stilled.

Fear curled inside me again.

“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for.

His face drew close to mine. I could see the tight line of his jaw, the way his nostrils flared as he inhaled. His eyes dropped to my lips.

He leaned in, closing the distance between our faces. 

My breath hitched. 

What does he want to do?

Kiss me?

His breath fanned my face, my thighs felt slippery as my body gummed to his. He closed his eyes, leaning in further, then stopped.

His facial expression changed. The longing that was once in his eyes was replaced with regret. Guilt.

His eyes hardened.

He pushed me away and I hit the wall.

Fear doubled inside me as I clutched the wall for support.

Without saying a word, he turned and stormed out of the room. The door slammed so hard the walls shook, and seconds later I heard the lock slide back into place.

I stood there shaking, my lungs finally dragging in air like I’d been drowning.

What just happened?

My legs gave out, and I dropped onto the floor, pressing my hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing chest. I dragged my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. I let my tears fall as I wished death would just take me. 

Something was wrong with Bran. He hated me. He’d made that obvious from the day I was sold to him like a property. And yet… What I saw in his eyes tonight wasn’t hatred.

It scared me more than his anger ever had.

Sleep refused to come. I stayed awake replaying the moment again and again in my head. 

Morning came and my head ached from exhaustion. From lack of sleep. I laid on my bed the entire day forcing myself to sleep again and again, trying to escape my thoughts. 

By evening, my body ached and was heavy, as if I’d been running for miles in my dreams.

Night drifted in quietly. 

I was half-asleep when I heard a knock at the door.

“Serafine?” Grayson murmured. “You're awake?”

I pushed myself up, my back wounds itched. I winced at the discomfort.

“Yes.” I managed to say.

There was a pause, then the faint scrape of something sliding across the floor. A warm, sweet smell followed.

“I made pancakes,” he said casually. “Don’t ask how. I tricked Ember into teaching me how to make one. She nearly stabbed me with a spatula in the process.”

A weak smile tugged at my lips.

“I’ll slide them under,” he added quickly. The plate appeared beneath the door. I reached for it, my fingers brushing the warm ceramic.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He sat on the other side, and I could hear him eating. 

“Did you make some for yourself?” I asked him.

“I did. That was my excuse to get Ember to teach me.” 

I smiled.

“What did you do today?” He asked. 

I snorted. “I did nothing except force myself to sleep with a lot of thought in mind.” 

“Hmm.” 

There was silence. 

I remembered the shadow moving between the forest trees last night. It had a pair of glowing eyes, like that of Alpha Bran. And looked like a wolf but was bigger.

It matched the famous description of werewolves in novels. Could werewolves be real?

My hands tightened around my plate.

“Grayson?” I called softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think… werewolves are real?”

Grayson stopped chewing. I could almost feel his gaze through the wood.

“That’s a strange question,” he said.

My stomach twisted. 

“I know. It’s just—” I hesitated, my voice dropping. “I saw something last night in the forest. It wasn’t normal.”

Silence pressed in.