Softer
Xander POV
She stays still for a long time, even after I lie beside her. I don’t press close, not to start with. I ensure there’s enough space between us to give her room to breathe and rest without any pressure from me. The moment I pull the covers over us, however, she shifts. It’s not much, just enough for her to press her back against my chest, like her body doesn’t know how to settle unless mine is close.
My arm moves on its own accord, draping over her body, my hand flat against her stomach. She exhales softly at the touch, not startled or tense, just calm. It’s like she belongs here, like we’ve done this before, even though we haven’t. That’s what makes it all feel wrong.
This shouldn’t feel so natural, so immediate and final. With my first mate, everything was different. There was a slow build behind the entire relationship. The bond pulled, yes, but it was gentler and easier. It didn’t take me over like this has. It didn t burn through me, and hollow out everything in its path, replacing it with something more primal.
Somehow, what I feel for Serafine isn’t just instinct or need. It’s deeper, and feels older and wiser. It comes from somewhere beneath reason, beneath control. I don’t know how to feel about it or what to make of it. My wolf does, he’s curled close, silent and content. He’s content in a way I’ve never felt, I don’t relax, not yet.
She shifts in her sleep and presses closer to me. Her breath is warm on the side of my arm, and something in my chest
twists.
I’ve spent every day of my life since my mate’s death focused on one purpose: to avenge her, to dismantle the pack that destroyed her. I wanted to erase every trace of the bloodline that tore my world apart. For some reason, fate has handed me Serafine, the daughter of the man who orchestrated it all, and I’m told she’s mine like my plan is no longer important.
It shouldn’t make sense, but lying here with her, her pulse thrumming softly against my palm, it somehow does. Sleep hits at me hard, and I eventually let it come. There’s nothing else to do now, not while she’s here, safe and tucked in my chest, with my scent wrapping around her.
Morning comes slower than I expect. The first light comes through the edges of the curtains, and it bathes the room in a pale gold, and Serafine is still asleep when I wake. She’s curled on her side, with one hand tucked beneath her cheek, and her hair is tangled across the pillow. Her scent is softer now, still rich, and still mine, but no longer the strength it was from her heat.
For a while, I watch her, and do nothing else. I watch her long enough for the anger I’ve been carrying to loosen its grip. I still don’t trust everything she’s told me, not fully. Something inside of me has shifted, though, I’m not looking for proof of her guilt this morning. I’m just looking at her.
Eventually, she stirs, and her eyelids flutter open. She doesn’t startle when she sees me, she just looks at me, uncertain like she’s unsure of which version of me she’s waking up to.
“Morning,” I say quietly, my voice still rough from sleep.
“Morning,” she replies softly.
Her eyes are clear now, still guarded though and I don’t blame her for it. I haven’t given her any reason to feel safe here, still, I push off the mattress and stretch before reaching for a clean shirt.
“You should eat,” I tell her. It’s not an order, more of a concern because she skipped two meals yesterday. “You didn’t eat much yesterday.”
She nods and sits up slowly, drawing the covers around her body. Her cheeks are flushed, not from fever, but embarrasement, or maybe uncertainty? I pull on my clothes and turn back to her.
“There’s food in the private hall,” I add. “No one else will be there this early.”
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, and she nods again. “Okay,” she whispers, quieter this time.
I wait while she gets cleaned up and dressed, not out of obligation, but because I don’t want to leave her alone this morning. When she joins me, she’s in fresh clothes, her hair is tied back and somehow she looks smaller, despite the strength I know she has.
We walk the corridor in silence, it’s not tense, just….quiet maybe? A different kind of quiet than before. There’s no suspicion, no heat, just something almost cautious.
As we enter the dining hall, I see the warm bread, smoked meat, and fruit that have already been laid out on the table. I nod to the omega in the corner, and she quickly leaves, without saying a word. Serafine hesitates, then eventually comes to sit across from me.
Tearing off a piece of bread, I push a plate slightly toward her. “Eat,” I say again, softer.
For a moment, she picks at it, then eats more when she realizes I’m not going to say anything else. When she finally looks up and speaks, her voice is almost uncertain. “You’re…different this morning.”
Softer
She’s not wrong. I meet her eyes. “So are you.”
That earns me the smallest flicker of something in her eyes, surprise or maybe gratitude?
“I just don’t know what happens next,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper.
Yeah, she’s right there. “Neither do I,” I admit. “But we’ll figure it out.”
I mean that, she’s not given me anything to doubt her, so I shouldn’t judge her or punish her for her fathers actions.
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