Page 19

I should just take this moment for what it is, finally getting Seraphina— Phina —back.

After years of forcing myself to stay away from this town and convincing myself that she would never accept an apology if I offered it, I’ve proven myself wrong.

She’s accepted my apology. She’s right back here in my arms, despite everything.

So I should just leave the moment alone. At least for right now, I should keep the other question in my mind at bay. I shouldn’t let it come forward, shouldn’t give in to the urge to ask her.

And yet, I do.

“Phina,” I say, pulling back from her as my knot continues to pulse, emptying inside her thoroughly, satisfyingly. Searching her face, I ask, “Who is Nora’s father?”

She goes stiff beneath me, her hand that was just running up and down my forearm pausing at my elbow before she pulls it away. When she looks at me, it’s like she’s searching my face for an answer I don’t have.

“I—” she swallows, looks away from me. “It’s nobody.”

“What do you mean?” I’m being stupid—I should have waited for another moment to ask her this, but I had to know. And now she’s flattening beneath me, trying to gain distance even as I’m stuck inside her. “Phina, you can tell me the truth—”

“He was just passing through town,” Phina says, turning her head back to me suddenly, those brown eyes flashing as she stares up at me. Something like amber, luminous and full of life, flickers with something I can’t place. “It was a temporary thing. He was never going to stay.”

“An alpha?” I ask, feeling jealous and possessive. “And you don’t even know his name?”

She works her jaw and bites her lip. “No.”

It doesn’t seem like her, to sleep with a man without knowing him.

In high school, we came together on accident, getting stuck in a supply closet together for hours until someone came and unlocked the door.

Talking and inching closer the whole time—that’s what led to the walls breaking down between us.

I’d always been drawn to her, but after that, I knew I couldn’t stay away from her.

And after that, she started to look at me like someone she knew. Someone she understood.

Before the first time I took her, when we were alone in the middle of the woods, she asked me for my middle name. Like it was important that she got to hold on to a little piece of me before we touched each other in that way.

“It’s not a big deal,” Phina says, shifting beneath me and reaching up to brush some of the hair from her eyes. I watch a wave of pleasure flood through her in the flutter of her lashes, see how difficult it is for her to work out the rest of her sentence. “Nora and I have always been enough.”

My knot continues to pulse, and though the bulk of my pleasure is through, I know that some omegas can orgasm again from the pressure of it against them. Shifting, I watch as her face softens and tightens. Her eyes shut.

This conversation is important to me. And I get the sense that there’s something she’s not telling me.

But I want to chase the edge of that pleasure more. Want to watch her come around me once more, want to feel her body giving in to mine again.

Words drift away as I move against her—not pulling in and out, not thrusting, but moving gently from side to side so my hips press against hers and my knot moves inside her.

When she lets out a moan—hushed but still a little too loud—I cup my palm over her mouth. Her eyes flutter open, find mine, and I reach down with my other hand to find her clit, pressing it with my thumb.

This time, she moans into my hand, her eyes shutting again, and I feel her tightening around me, the crux of her pleasure coming closer and closer.

I want it—I want to taste it for myself. Not because it feels good for me—though the pressure on my knot does feel good—but because it feels good for her. And I would go to the ends of the earth to make her feel good.

When she comes, she bites into the soft part of my hand, and it makes me want to mark her bad enough that I have to bite down on my own tongue, close my eyes, and imagine what it would be like—to leave my mark on her neck, to show everyone that she belongs to me.

But I can’t.

Can I?

I’ve already publicly turned down her claim, told everyone that we weren’t mates. Is it possible for me to go back on that declaration now?

When she’s done, the pressure of her orgasm has worked my knot along until it’s nearly gone, and I’m able to slide out of her.

“I’m going to go clean up,” she whispers, sliding up and off the couch, grabbing her torn underwear from the ground.

When she’s gone, I swear under my breath—I’ve never felt more confused than I do now. Was she telling the truth about Nora? Something tells me that’s not true.

But if Nora was mine, I’d be able to smell it, loud and clear. The Sorel scent would be obvious. Hell, Kalen would have noticed and told me about it before now.

All this forces me to face something else—I wanted Phina to tell me that Nora was mine. I wanted it to be true that the few times we were together in high school were enough for her to get pregnant.

Even with the pain of knowing I’d missed so much of her life already, I would happily accept the joy of knowing Nora was mine. That I would have some claim to Phina and her daughter.

If it was public knowledge that Phina had my child, it would make things a lot easier in the pack for me to claim her again. It would only make sense.

But pressuring her isn’t going to make things better—it’s only going to make things worse. The last thing I want is for Phina to pull away from me, to feel that she needs to hide.

When I stand from the couch, I follow her into the hallway. There, I find her coming from the upstairs bathroom, her cheeks pink, her skin glowing. Is this what she used to look like before? How had I never noticed?

“Hey,” I say, catching her by the arm as she goes to walk past me. I pull her back and line her up against the wall, watching as her gaze rises to mine, unsure and waiting for my next words.

Clearing my throat, I say, “I’m sorry for probing. I was just… curious.”

She shifts uncomfortably, clearly unused to accepting apologies. “It’s okay.”

“I—I don’t want you to run from me, Phina.”

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“I want… to see where this goes. Between us.”

If it’s possible, her eyes widen even more, flitting back and forth between mine. This close, I can still smell my scent on her, the heady evidence of our sex. I can feel her heartbeat picking up speed and resist the urge to lay my palm over her chest, right above it.

“You do?”

“I do,” I say, swallowing, opening my mouth to add more, but I’m cut off by the sound of Nora rousing herself in the bathroom. Phina and I separate, eyes still on one another, both of our heartbeats picking up speed.

I tell her with my gaze that we can talk more about it later.

She looks away from me, gaze settling on the bathroom door as Nora steps out. While Phina goes to her daughter, I follow the sound of buzzing to the kitchen, find my phone there, and check the texts from the guys.

They’ve contained the fires for now.

I confirm to them that I’m fine, even as an ache stretches out through my chest, a pain I hadn’t noticed when I had Phina in my arms.

A moment later, Nora and Phina appear in the kitchen, watching me expectantly.

“Is the fire done?” Nora asks, her voice small.

I nod, eyes moving between her and her mother. “For now,” I say, which seems to calm her somewhat.

Phina meets my eyes, and I realize Silverville has needed me far more than I ever thought.

This town needs me to help stop the fires.

And Phina has needed me all this time. Needed an apology, needed someone to lean on, needed someone to protect her.

Now that I’m here, the idea of moving back to Illinois grows weaker and weaker with every passing second.