Séraphina In The Rain

Night.

Rainy. Damdown Woods.

Dam’s Keep, Damoria.

Seraphina’s hands shook around the dagger strapped to her thigh.

Small. Ornate. Useless against him—but all she had.

Rain lashed her skin, icy needles cutting through the dark. Branches clawed at her like skeletal hands. Thunder cracked overhead, lightning tearing the sky open.

Run. Don’t stop. Run.

“Why run, Butterfly?”

Adolphus’s voice drifted closer, velvet and steel.

“I’m tired,” he drawled.

Good. Let him tire. Let him slow.

She stumbled—her foot snagging on a root—and crashed to the ground. Mud swallowed her palms. The dagger skittered out of reach, lost.

A low sigh behind her.

Then a hand, iron-strong, clamped around her wrist, wrenching her back until pain flared in her shoulder.

“Got you,” he murmured, breath hot against her ear.

Seraphina thrashed, nails raking his face. She felt them bite into flesh, a hiss of pain. His grip faltered—she tore free, running blind, lungs aflame—

A misstep. A gasp. The world spun.

Darkness swallowed her.

Adolphus found her crumpled on the forest floor, rain dripping from her lashes. Cold. Too cold. Something twisted in his gut.

Guilt? No.

He ignored it. Scooped her up, her weight nothing in his arms. She’s mine. She’s always been mine.

The grand stone walls of Dam’s Keep rose ahead, torches flickering. A maid hurried forward, eyes wide.

“Alpha Pri—”

“Prepare a bath. And blankets.”

She scurried away.

Inside, warmth and firelight flickered across polished stone. Adolphus climbed the stairs two at a time, Seraphina’s limp body cradled against his chest. Too light. Too fragile. His jaw clenched. She shouldn’t be fragile.

The maids worked in silence, stripping away the soaked layers, wiping mud from pale skin. He turned away, muscles taut, biting back the urge to snap at them to hurry.

She needed warmth. Rest.

Me.

“I’ll be outside,” he muttered, and left.

Later, when the maids were gone, he returned.

Seraphina lay beneath thick furs, her chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. Clean now. Warm. Safe.

He sat on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing a stray curl from her damp forehead. A foolish indulgence, but he couldn’t help himself.

She hated him. He saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him.

But she didn’t know the truth.

Didn’t know why he had done what he did.

Didn’t know that, despite everything, he still burned for her.

His hands curled into fists. His throat tightened.

She shivered in her sleep, instinctively inching toward his warmth. Her lips grazed his chest—soft, unconscious. His breath hitched.

Don’t. She’s exhausted. Let her rest.

With a low growl, he pulled her against him, wrapping her in his arms, letting his heat seep into her frozen bones.

She was his mate.

And he would do whatever it took to keep her.

Even if it meant seduction.

Even if it meant breaking her.