41 Chapter 41
41 Chapter 41
Seraphina’s POV T
Thete afternoon sun painted Silver Moon Harbor in shades of gold and amber as Damien drove us toward the harbor district, his expensive car gliding smoothly through the Friday traffic. Adrian was practically vibrating with excitement in the backseat, his small face pressed against the window as he pointed out every interesting building and boat we passed.
“Look, Mommy! That boat is huge!” he called out, his voice bright with wonder. “Do you think people live on it?”
“Some people do,” I replied, turning in my seat to smile at him. “They’re called houseboats.”
“Could we live on a boat, Mr. Damien?” Adrian asked, his attention immediately shifting to our driver. “That would be so cool! We could
sail around the world and see whales and pirates!”
Damien chuckled, that rich sound making warmth spread through my chest. “Pirates might be a little dangerous for everyday neighbors,”
he said, catching Adrian’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “But the whale-watching sounds like an excellent idea!”
I’d changed intofortable jeans and a soft sweater as Damien had suggested, grateful to be out of the formal work attire that had defined my interactions with him until now. There was something liberating about sitting beside him in casual clothes, like we were just a normal couple taking their son out for an afternoon adventure instead of aplicated tangle of mate bonds, dark pasts, and
unresolved tensions.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked as Damien turned onto Harbor Street, the familiar scent of salt air and seaweed drifting through
the car’s air conditioning.
“Somewhere I used to go when I was Adrian’s age,” Damien replied, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia I’d never heard before. “My
father used to take me there when pack business got too overwhelming. He said every Alpha needed a ce where they could just be a
person instead of a title.”
The car pulled into the parking area of Harbor Point Marina, where dozens of boats bobbed gently in their slips and seagulls wheeled
overhead inzy circles. The setting sun turned the water into liquid gold, and I could hear the soft sounds of wavespping against the
docks.
“Whoa, Adrian breathed as we climbed out of the car, his wide eyes taking in the forest of masts and the bustling activity of the marina.
This ce is amazing!”
Damien came around to our side of the car, and I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach as he moved close enough for me to catch his
intoxicating scent. His hand found the small of my back with casual possessiveness that sent electricity shooting through my nervous
system.
“There’s an ice cream stand at the end of the main pier,” he said, his breath warm against my car as he spoke quietly enough that only I
could hear, “And after that, I thought we might take a walk on the beach. Adrian mentioned he’d never built a proper sandcastle.”
The thoughtfulness of the n made my heart do a little flip. Here was one of the most powerful Alphas in the werewolf world, and he’d spent time researching what a four-year-old boy might enjoy on a Friday evening.
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“That sounds perfect,” I said softly, my voice carrying more emotion than I’d intended.
We made our way down the weathered wooden pier, Adrian running ahead to peer over the railings at the boats below while Damien and I followed at a more sedate pace. The marina was busy with Friday evening activity, families enjoying dinner on deck, couples walking hand in hand along the water, children feeding seagulls from paper bags of breadcrumbs.
“Two vani cones and one rocky road,” Damien told the teenage boy working the ice cream stand, then nced at me with raised.
eyebrows.
“Vani is perfect,” I assured him, touched that he’d remembered my preference from some casualment I’d made during one of our
office conversations.
Adrian epted his rocky road. “This is the best ice cream ever!” he announced around a mouthful of chocte and marshmallow. “Mr.
Damien, you’re the best!”
“Just Damien,” Damien said gently, ruffling Adrian’s dark curls. “We’re not at work now.”
As we walked along the pier, I found myself stealing nces at Damien when I thought he wasn’t looking. With his expensive suit jacket
discarded and his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms, he looked more rxed than I’d ever seen him.
“Mommy!” Adrian called out from where he’d run ahead to examine a particrly impressive yacht. “Come look at this boat! It’s like a floating castle!”
I hurried toward him,ughing at his enthusiasm, when I felt warm fingers catch my hand. Damien’s palm was calloused from years of
physical training, but his touch was gentle as he intertwined our fingers.
Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the marina around us.
“For what?”
“For giving me this.” His thumb traced a circle on the back of my hand, such a simple gesture but it sent heat racing up my arm. “I’ve
never had anything like this. The three of us together… it feels right.”
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tight with emotion. “Damien…”
Before he could respond, Adrian’s delighted shriek cut through our intimate moment. “The beach! Can we go to the beach now? Please,
please, please?”
We spent the next hour building what Adrian dered to be “the most epic sandcastle in the history of the world.” Damien, despite his expensive clothes andmanding presence, threw himself into the project with surprising enthusiasm. He helped Adrian dig a moat, construct borate turrets, and even defended our creation from the asional wave that threatened to breach our carefully constructed fortifications.
I sat on a piece of driftwood nearby, watching these two males in my life work together with an ease that took my breath away.
“Now we need a g!” Adrian announced, standing back to survey their handiwork with obvious pride. “Every castle needs a g!”
Damien looked around the beach thoughtfully, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card. With quick movements, he tore it into a triangle and fashioned it onto a small piece of driftwood Adrian had found.
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“Perfect!” Adrian pped his hands with delight. “Now it’s really official!”
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink, we packed up our beach supplies and made our way back toward the car. Adrian was drooping with exhaustion but fighting sleep with the determination of a child who didn’t want the perfect
day to end.
“Can we do this again tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, his small hand slipping trustingly into Damien’srger one. “Maybe we could build
a boat next time?”
“I think that sounds like an excellent n,” Damien said, lifting Adrian easily when the little boy stumbled with tiredness. “But first, you
need a good night’s sleep so you’ll have enough energy for tomorrow’s construction projects.”
By the time we reached my apartment building, Adrian was sound asleep against Damien’s shoulder, his tiny arms wrapped trustingly
around the Alpha’s neck.
“I’ll carry him up,” Damien said quietly as we climbed the narrow stairs to my floor. “He’s heavier when he’s sleeping.”
I fumbled with my keys, hyperaware of Damien’s presence behind me in the narrow hallway. The familiar scent of sandalwood and
masculine warmth was stronger here in the confined space, making my wolf practically purr with contentment.
“Sera,” Damien’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper as I finally managed to unlock the door. “Before I put him to bed?a??”can I ask you
something?”
I turned to face him, noting how carefully he held Adrian’s sleeping form, how hisrge hands cradled my son like something infinitely
precious. “Of course.”
“When you think about Adrian’s father,” he said carefully, his blue eyes searching my face for something I couldn’t identify, “do you ever
wish things had been different? That he’d stayed, tried to find you?”
The question caught mepletely off guard. I studied his expression, trying to understand what he was really asking, why it seemed so
important to him.
“Every day, I admitted honestly, my voice barely audible. “Not because I need rescuing or anything like that. Adrian deserves to know his
father. He deserves to have someone who chose to be there, not just someone who identally created him.”
“And if that man showed up tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered honestly. “I guess I’d want to hear his exnation before I decided whether to forgive him or tear his throat
out.”
Damien’sugh was quiet but genuine. “Fair enough.”
I led him into Adrian’s small room and watched as he settled my son into his dinosaur-covered bed with the gentle care of someone who’d done this a hundred times before. Adrian stirred slightly as Damien pulled the nkets up to his chin, but didn’t wake.
“Sweet dreams, little man,” Damien murmured, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it.
When we returned to the living room, the atmosphere between us shifted again. The casual family dynamic we’d shared at the beach was reced by something more electric, more adult. I was suddenly hyperaware that we were alone, that Adrian was asleep down the hall,
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that nothing was stopping us from finishing what we’d started in my bedroom the night before.
“I should go,” Damien said, but he made no move toward the door. Instead, he stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to look into his eyes.
“Should you?” I asked, my voiceing out breathier than intended.
His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb tracing the line of my cheekbone with exquisite gentleness. “I don’t want to rush this,” he
said, his voice rough with barely controlled desire. “You’ve been through so much. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage.”
“What if I want you to take advantage?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, making heat flood
my
cheeks.
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