And then Daniel tugged his father’s hand excitedly. “Dad! There’s the bumper cars! Can we go?”
The tension broke like glass.
Kieran cleared his throat. Withdrew his hand. “Sure, bud. Go ahead. We’ll catch up.”
Daniel darted ahead, blissfully unaware. But I could feel Kieran’s gaze still on me, concentrated and burning as sunlight through a magnifying glass.
“Seraphina,” he started, voice barely above the noise. “That-did you feel that-“
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I cut in gently, proud of myself when my voice didn’t shake.
I wasn’t lying. I didn’t know what he meant. Because I didn’t know what that was. But I would be damned if I investigated.
Kieran hesitated, his jaw flexing. I could see the war in his eyes-the part of him that wanted to push, to know, fighting the part that finally understood that he wasn’t entitled to anything that concerned me.
For a second, I thought he’d let it go.
But then he stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell cedar and rain wind.
Close enough that I was terrified he would hear the sound of my heart thundering.
“Do you ever think,” he murmured, voice roughened, “that maybe this is how things should’ve been?”
I stared at him, stunned. Why the fuck would he ask me that?
“Don’t do that,” I rasped.
“Do what?”
My words came out sharper than I intended. “Don’t read into anything. This is just a day out with our son-nothing more. Who cares how things should have been? This is how they are now.”
His throat bobbed. “Right.”
But the way he said it told me he didn’t believe it. Not entirely.
He reached for my hand again-deliberate, sure-as if he’d decided that clarity was worth any consequence.
A small, involuntary sound escaped me, half a breath, half a warning.
I didn’t know what I would do if he touched me and that spark flared again.
I held my breath just as his fingers grazed mine-
“Mom! Lucian’s here!”
The ludicrous sentence snapped me back to reality.
I turned, startled. And sure enough, there he was.
Lucian stood a few paces away next to Daniel, a lazy half-smile curving his mouth, his hands tucked casually in his coat pockets.
His gaze flicked from me to Kieran. And that smile hardened.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said smoothly.
I blinked twice, but the image didn’t disappear. “How did you know-“
He waved my question away before I could complete it.
“I made dinner reservations for us,” Lucian announced, eyes gleaming. “A private celebration, if you will. Is that okay?”
Daniel’s face brightened instantly. “For all of us?”
Lucian glanced at Kieran again, and I didn’t miss the tightening around his eyes. “Well, I don’t know if your father-“
“That’s fine,” Kieran cut in. I could feel his energy shifting-cooling, withdrawing. His hands were firmly by his side. “I’ll sit that out, thank you.”
They shared a look that made me feel like a bone between two Alpha dogs.
Lucian offered his hand to Daniel. “Come on, champ. There’s a table waiting with your name on it.”
Daniel grabbed it happily. “Bye, Dad! You’ll come next time, right?”
Kieran’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sure, buddy. Have fun.”
Lucian looked at me expectantly. “Sera?”
I blinked. “Yeah, uh…sure. Let’s go.”
For some reason, my feet were heavy as we walked away. And when I stopped to dump the melted ice cream into a trash can, it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to glance back.
But it didn’t matter that I didn’t look.
I could feel Kieran’s gaze lingering-like the last trace of a storm that hadn’t decided whether to fade or return.
LUCIAN’S POV
Dinner was supposed to be easy.
A quiet, celebratory meal after a long couple of weeks-something that might bridge the subtle distance I had sensed between Sera and me.
The restaurant’s lighting was soft, golden, warm-the kind designed to buffer harsh edges. Gentle music played in the background, and the low murmur of conversation filled the air.
The scent of roasted herbs lingered, mingling with the clink of cutlery and the flicker of candles, giving the whole place an easy, inviting calm.
But none of that could hide the restlessness in Sera’s eyes, and as I watched her from across the table, I realized I had my work cut out for me. Steak and potatoes weren’t a strong enough bridge.
The last couple of times I’d eaten out with her, she’d been ravenous due to her rigorous training schedule.
Now, though, she hadn’t touched much of her food, just prodded at it absentmindedly, her thoughts clearly miles away.
Daniel was seated beside her, digging into his food with the enthusiasm she lacked and talking animatedly about the amusement park and all the rides he and Kieran went on.
Every few sentences, Sera smiled and murmured something appropriate, but I could see the tension pinching the muscles at her jaw, each fake laugh a little too brittle.
Dinner with Sera was light, fun, comfortable, warm. Not…this.
Finally, I set my utensils down. “You don’t like the food?” I asked lightly, though my voice came out rougher than intended.
Her head lifted. For a heartbeat, her expression was blank-like she’d forgotten where she was. Then she blinked and shook her head.”
No, no. It’s fine, really. I think I’m just…tired.”
A lie, and a poor one at that.
I leaned back in my seat, studying her. The faintest flush rose on her cheeks under my scrutiny. “You sure?”
Her eyes flickered to Daniel and then back to me. “Positive,” she said quickly. “I just need a minute.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “
Excuse me.”
She didn’t wait for a response before walking away.
I watched her retreat toward the restroom, her steps surer than when we’d first met. Every instinct in me wanted to go after her, but I held back.
I knew it was too soon to tell definitely, but it was undeniable that something had shifted since the Trials ended.
She’d always been reserved, a little careful and withdrawn, but she’d begun to loosen up around me-smiling more easily, teasing, letting her laughter slip through unguarded.
But now, the warmth she used to show me had cooled, replaced by this polite, distant kind of civility that I didn’t know what to do with.
“Lucian?”
Daniel’s small voice broke my thoughts. I turned to find him staring at me curiously, spoon of mashed potatoes in hand.
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