CHAPTER 5: CAUGHT IN AN ACT

CELINE

I took the stairs two at a time, my phone pressed to my ear.

It rang four times, then went to voicemail. I hung up and tried again. Voicemail. My fingers shook so badly I mistyped the message three times.

Me: I’m at a big stone house with iron gates. I’m coming out.

Delivered. Not read.

My chest still ached where the rejection had torn through it, every breath like inhaling broken glass. But somewhere beyond those doors was the one person on earth who had said “come home”

I took the last flight at a half-run, eyes on my screen, and walked directly into a wall.

Except the walls didn’t catch me. Two hands closed around my arms.

“Watch where you’re going, little mate.”

Low and warm and saturated with amusement, like he had been waiting at the bottom of these stairs for me to crash into him and had enjoyed every second of it.

I looked up. Green eyes. A slow, unrepentant smile.

“Rythan? How did you get down here before me?”

“Back stairs. I told you, I will never lose.” His gaze dropped to the bag clutched against my side, and the smile sharpened. “Trying to run away, little mate?”

His voice was casual. Something underneath it was quiet and watchful.

“I’m not running. I have someone to meet. My father.”

“Your father.” He tasted the word and found it suspicious. “And you were going to leave without saying goodbye to your three mates?”

“One of them rejected me. Remember?”

“Details. Kythan has the emotional range of a frozen pond. I, on the other hand, am a delight.”

“Nobody says so.” I snapped.

“Which proves my point.” He grinned. “Your voice, by the way. Every time you’re furious with me, I want you to keep going.”

Heat crept up my neck. “I need to go.”

He took one step toward me. I took one back, until the wall met my shoulders, solid and cool through my thin shirt. His hands came up on either side of my head, caging me in without touching me.

I told myself I would duck under his arm and walk out like a responsible person with a destination. My body had spectacularly different opinions.

“How do I look?” he murmured.

“Annoying.”

“Liar. You’ve been staring at my mouth since you ran into me. It’s fine. It’s a very good mouth.”

“It’s an insufferable mouth.”

“It’s your mouth, if you’d like it to be. Mate.”

I pushed at his chest. It was like pushing a warm wall. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m choosing to hear it as one.”

Infuriatingly, the ache in my chest had gone quiet. A man who had watched his brother tear me apart in front of the whole pack was flirting with me ten minutes later, and it was working.

“I’m not doing this with you,” I said, but my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Your voice disagrees.”

He leaned in, not touching me, and pressed his lips to the side of my neck. One soft, deliberate kiss. My eyes fell shut.

Traitor, I told my nervous system. Absolute traitor.

“Say my name,” he murmured against my throat.

“No.”

“Please? I’ll be good.”

“You’ve never had a good day in your life.”

“That,” Rythan said gravely, “is the nicest thing anyone has said to me all week.”

A laugh escaped me, and it ruined everything. His eyes lit up like a man who had just won a bet.

“Little mate, you’re shaking.”

“It’s cold.”

“It’s not cold. It’s me.” His knuckle traced my cheekbone. “My wolf hasn’t stopped pacing since you walked into that hall, and I’m going to kiss you now before he tears the house down. You have approximately three seconds to stop me.”

One. My heart leapt.

Two. Say move, the sensible part of me begged. One word. You’ve said it a dozen times today.

The word did not come.

“Three,” he breathed, and kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It was warm, sure, and wickedly confident, the kiss of a man who had been planning it since breakfast.

His hand slid into my hair, his arm wrapped around my waist, and the mate bond flared like a struck match. My hands found his shirt and dragged him closer.

“There she is,” he whispered, and kissed me again.

The ache in my chest was gone. I forgot the festival. I forgot Kythan. I forgot Muize’s sneer, and Ann 's laughter, and Doland’s voice in the dark. There was only warmth, and Rythan, and the wild, steady pull of something I had waited years to feel.

“Celine,” he murmured against my lips. “Say it. Just once.”

“Rythan,” I breathed.

His whole body went still. When he lifted his head, the playfulness had gone out of his eyes, replaced by something hungry and a little stunned.

“Again.”

“Rythan, I—”

The great doors at the far end of the hall crashed open. Footsteps. Heavy, measured. They stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“Elin?”

The voice hit me like ice water down the spine. Rythan went still, his hand tightening at my waist.

I had one second to understand that I was pinned against a wall with my fists in an Alpha’s shirt. My mouth was still warm from his, and that the voice I had missed for two years was ten feet away.

We turned. Slowly.

A man stood at the bottom of the stairs. Older, silver threading through his dark hair, wearing a look of pure frozen shock.

I recognised that face with gut-dropping certainty. In old photographs. In faded memories. In the mirror, in certain lights.

“Father?” It came out barely a whisper.

His eyes moved from my face to the hand at my waist, to my fingers fisted in Rythan’s shirt, to the Alpha who had just been kissing his daughter against a wall.

And I wished, with every cell of my body, that the floor would open and swallow me whole.

Without hesitation I pushed Rythan away from me, and he almost fell on the stairs, because he wasn’t expecting it.

“Sh*t! He cursed under his breath.