I looked toward the stairs again-for the fiftieth time tonight. Maybe sixtieth. And it was still empty. I mean…
Dinner had been dragging on for well over twenty minutes now, and she still wasn’t here.
My jaw clenched.
Fuck.
“Kester, darling. You haven’t even touched your meal yet, Jorja called from across the table.
Her words barely registered. She sounded distant, like a bell tolling underwater.
“Where’s Kasmine? Why isn’t she out here?” I asked her, ignoring her earlier statement.
Jorja paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “Oh… she’s feeling a bit under the weather. Said she might not join us tonight.”
A slow churn twisted in my gut.
Sick?
Fuck
Of course, I didn’t know. What kind of man doesn’t notice when his woman is sick? Although we hadn’t spent much time together since we arrived at the pack. But that wasn’t an excuse.
I didn’t like that I didn’t know. I didn’t like that she hadn’t said anything. We were growing distant, and it was killing me slowly.
It was almost as though the packhouse was cursed. It wasn’t letting our love breathe. It keeps strangling what little love we had managed to build.
We were better off in my home. Our home.
I couldn’t wait to return home with her after her transition ceremony, which was to take place on the day of ner birthday.
“I’ll go check on her,” I said, pushing my chair back abruptly.
Jorja blinked, surprised. “But-“
I was already rising.
Fuck the meal.
She was all I could taste.
June moved before I could take another step, her perfume arriving a second before she did-jasmine, subtle but intrusive. The scent I had grown tired of already.
“Kester,” she called sweetly, her hand sliding around my arm. Clingy. Possessive. Warm. “I’ll come with you,”
I stiffened.
My mouth opened, ready to tell her to sit her desperate little ass back down, but I didn’t get the chance.
Because she appeared.
Kasmine.
Descending the stairs.
And fuck me-1 froze.
Everything slowed… The air, the noise, my pulse. Even June’s grip on me faded into background static.
She wore a loose satin dress in deep wine, the kind that wrapped around her beautiful thighs and clung just right to the curves.
Her hair was braided to the back and pinned low, with soft tendrils framing her face like nature had shaped them with intention. Her skin, pale under the warm chandelier light, looked like it needed rest. Needed me.
Fuck.
Her gaze locked on mine.
Then it fell to June’s hand curled around my arm.
The look that followed was heartbreakingly blank, and it shredded me more than any scream ever could
She blinked once, then pulled her shoulders back, holding her chin high and waving aside what she had just seen.
She didn’t pause on the stairs.
She didn’t even speak to me..
She just walked past us straight toward the table like I didn’t matter.
And I couldn’t fucking breathe.
June tried to follow her with her eyes, probably ready to toss out a smile or a pitiful greeting, but Kasmine didn’t give a fuck about it.
I jerked my arm from June’s grasp, making her stumble slightly.
“Kester-” she gasped, but I didn’t even look at her.
My steps were already carrying me toward Kasmine, whose back was now to me, as she reached for the chair beside Jorja.
She adjusted the hem of her dress like she needed a moment to compose herself. Or maybe to not scream.
I reached her side in two strides. She had barely settled in her seat when I reached for her, bending slightly to meet her eye. My fingers closed gently around her arm, just above the elbow.
“Kasmine,” I called in a firm tone, gulping down my emotions, “You’re sick?”
She hesitated before replying, “Yes.”
That was it.
No “but I’m feeling better now.” No attempt to soften the low. Just that clipped syllable lobbed at me like a pebble with enough weight to shatter something inside.
But I didn’t want to push.
My jaw ticked as I ran my tongue slowly along the inside of my teeth before stepping away from her back to where I sat across from her on the table.
June trailed behind me, of course. The damn shadow I never asked for.
She sat with all the smugness of a woman who thought she had a claim. I didn’t even spare her a glance.
I was just watching Kasmine.
She picked up her fork, her eyes lowered to her plate. She looked composed, but way too composed-like a statue posed in the exact way pain doesn’t show. And I knew that look. I had worn it myself too many times.
I was about to reach for my drink when the front door creaked open, and we heard someone strolling toward the dining area.
The universe, in all its twisted comedy, was hell-bent on making sure I didn’t enjoy my victories tonight.
Because what the fuck was the dimwit doing here?
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply