“Celeste=”
“I’ve been alone for ten years,” she said suddenly, her voice flat. “When I left, I thought it was the right thing-space, time, whatever. But it hurt like hell, Kieran. And I missed you so fucking much.”
“I missed you, too,” I said. And I meant it.
She let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure you spent the last ten years pining after me while married to my sister.”
I took a step closer. “Celeste, I did.”
“You don’t see it, do you?” she whispered. “You’re acting like nothing’s changed. Like she still belongs in your life. Like I’m the one who doesn’t.”
“It’s not like that,” I rushed to say, but the words felt thin in my mouth.
She wiped her eyes with a quick swipe of her fingers, smudging her mascara. “I thought coming back would mean something-that I’d still matter to you. That we could resume where we left off before… her.”
“You do matter.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, and her voice was bitter with sarcasm when she said, “Yeah, I feel pretty fucking important right now.”
“Wait.” I caught her wrist as she started walking away. “Don’t go,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “Please.”
She shook her head slowly, pulling her arm out of my grasp. “Goodnight, Kieran,” she said quietly, flatly.
I wanted to fight harder, make her stay. But all I could do was stand there, paralyzed by guilt and confusion.
And then she was gone.
The door closed behind her with a quiet click, and the emptiness crowded me.
I stood in the foyer for a long time, staring at the door, my hands clenched at my side. The silence around me felt louder than any argument, and Celeste’s words seemed to bounce off the wall, an echo of pain.
‘You’re acting like nothing’s changed. Like she still belongs in your life. Like I’m the one who doesn’t.’
“Fuck,” I swore, running a hand of frustration through my hair.
Sera didn’t belong in my life, not anymore, and I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t let her go. Why was I still stubbornly holding on to a woman I never really wanted at the expense of the woman of my dreams?
I’d hurt Celeste ten years ago by what Sera and I had done, and now I was hurting her again because I couldn’t seem to fucking let go of Sera.
Celeste was all that mattered to me now, and I had to fix it before it was too late. So I forced my heavy legs to move and grabbed my keys.
I was halfway to Ethan’s house, where Celeste was staying, when my phone rang.
Daniel’s name lit up the screen like a tiny ray of sunshine piercing storm clouds.
“Hey, champ,” I greeted, forcing a light tone. “It’s way past your bedtime. What are you doing up?”
“Hi, Dad: I couldn’t sleep, so I called Mom to talk to her, but I couldn’t reach her.”
My grip on the wheel tightened, mirroring the force with which irrational anxiety gripped me. “I’m sure she just went to bed early, bud.”
“Well… okay. But she always answers my call. Can you check on her?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “I’ll take care of it. Good night, Danny.”
I hung up and immediately called Gavin.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I need a status report on Sera,” I said, trying to keep my tone even.
Gavin sighed. “Kieran, this-“
“I have no time for a lecture, Gavin,” I snapped.
There was a heavy sigh and a mumbled, “Gimme a minute.”
And then: “She’s home. The last hourly report shows a male matching Lucian Reed’s description entering the house with her; he hasn’t exited since.”
A chill spread in my stomach as I pulled the car over to the side of the road. “How long ago?” I bit out.
“Fifty-two minutes ago.”
Lucian. In her house. For an hour. Doors closed. Phones off.
I sat in silence for a moment, the engine humming around me. All thoughts of reconciling with and apologizing to Celeste took a back seat.
The longer I sat, the more insistent that prickly tension grew inside me. I couldn’t stop picturing Lucian and Sera behind closed doors-laughing, talking… doing gods know what else.
I hated how my mind filled in the blanks with images I didn’t want but couldn’t escape.
By the time I hit the gas again, I wasn’t thinking anymore.
I barely remembered the drive-just the blur of streetlights and a knot twisting in my chest tighter with every block.
When I pulled up outside Sera’s house, Lucian’s car wasn’t in her driveway.
But that new information did nothing to quell the volatile energy thrumming through my veins.
I walked up to the door and slammed my fists against it insistently.
A moment passed. Then another.
And then the door opened.
Sera stood there in a loose bathrobe, her hair damp like she’d just gotten out of the shower. Her skin glowed with a soft, dewy sheen, and a flush colored her cheeks.
Her eyes, devastatingly beautiful, widened in surprise.
I didn’t see Lucian. But I didn’t need to.
My eyes took her in-the robe, the damp hair, the faint scent of lavender drifting out into the night air-and my brain came to its conclusion.
“Where is he?” I asked, my voice low, rough.
Her brows pulled together. “What?”
I stepped closer. “Where. Is. Lucian?” I was going to tear him apart limb from limb.
“Kieran, what the fuck?”
But I couldn’t answer Sera. The jealousy, the frustration-it all swelled to a breaking point.
My eyes swept over her again, and I hated how badly I wanted her, how much it wrecked me to imagine her with anyone else.
Something in me snapped.
I grabbed her by the waist, and this time, she was too stunned to stop me from kissing her
-hard
SERAPHINA’S POVED
The shower had washed away the sweat, but not the frustration. Lavender ointment tingled on my bruised knuckles as I towel-dried my hair, the scent doing little to calm my racing thoughts.
The failed training drills. That wretched garden confrontation. The way Kieran’s gaze had burned through me like I was the one betraying him.
I exhaled a deep sigh. I should stop thinking of that annoying Kieran. We were divorced. He shouldn’t crash through my life like a hurricane anymore.
My phone buzzed on the sink counter.
Lucian: Left the protein shakes in your fridge. Don’t overdo it tomorrow.
A small smile tugged at my lips. Lucian had stayed late under the guise of reviewing my training schedules, but we both knew the truth-he’d been giving me space to process while silently ensuring I wasn’t alone. No prying questions. No false platitudes. Just steady presence, the way one might guard a wounded packmate.
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