A slave to the alpha I rejected
she assured, planning to make a bouquet for Vamara to wake up to.
But when she reached the greenhouse, she was surprised to find she wasn’t alone. Callix was there, reaching for poppy seeds.
“Wait—that’s dangerous!” she called out, accidentally pushing him. The mighty beta stumbled, and the flowers she’d been holding scattered over his hair.
Celeste couldn’t help it—a laugh escaped her, honeyed and light, echoing through the space as Callix rose with a smirk.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he asked.