145 Chapter 145


    Seraphina’s POV 1


    Thete afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen windows as I peeled potatoes at the sink. Margaret hummed softly beside me, seasoning the pot roast that had been cooking all day, filling the house with the most incredible smells.


    “Pass me that rosemary, would you, honey?” Margaret asked, gesturing toward the herb garden on the windowsill.


    I handed her the small ceramic pot, watching as she pinched off fresh leaves with practiced ease. Everything she did looked so natural,


    so effortless. Like she’d been born knowing how to make a house into a home.


    “You’re getting good at this,” she said, ncing at my pile of perfectly peeled potatoes.


    The back door opened with a soft creak, and Caleb appeared, followed by his father. Both men looked pleasantly tired from their day in


    the garage, grease stains on their clothes and satisfied expressions on their faces.


    “Perfect timing,” Margaret called out. “Dinner’s almost ready. Go wash up, both of you.”


    “Yes, ma’am,” Robert said with an exaggerated salute that made his wife roll her eyes.


    “And change those shirts!” Margaret added as they headed toward the stairs. “We’re eating off the good china tonight.”


    I looked at her in surprise. “The good china? What’s the asion?”


    Margaret shrugged, but there was something pleased and almost shy in her expression. “Do I need an asion to use my nice things for


    my family?”


    Twenty minutester, we were all seated around the dining room table, which Margaret had set with her grandmother’s china and cloth


    napkins that matched the curtains. Candles flickered between serving dishes loaded with more food than four people could possibly eat.


    “This is too much,” I protested, but I was smiling as I said it.


    “Nonsense,” Margaret waved off my concern. “It’s not every day we have our Sarah home for dinner.”


    Sarah. The name they’d given me to protect my identity. The story was simple–Caleb’s distant cousin from the city, down on her luck,


    staying with them while she got back on her feet. A few people in town had asked casual questions, but no one seemed suspicious.


    The Morrisons had been so careful. When we went into town for supplies, Margaret did most of the talking. I kept my head down,


    avoided unnecessary conversations with strangers, and let them handle any curious neighbors.


    The conversation flowed easily, filled with local gossip and gentle humor. They included me in every story, every joke, making me feel like I’d always been part of their little circle. By the time we were finishing dessert–Margaret’s famous apple pie–I felt more content


    than I had in months.


    “I’ll help with the dishes,” I offered as we started clearing the table.


    “Absolutely not,” Margaret said firmly. “You worked all day. Robert and I will handle cleanup.”


    “But-<b>” </b>


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    145 Chapter 145


    “No buts.” She shooed me toward the living room. “Go rx with Caleb. You’ve earned it.”


    So I found myself curled up on the couch next to Caleb, some old western ying on the television screen, feeling more at peace than I’d thought possible just a few weeks ago.


    I was still wrestling with thefort when the sound of knocking echoed from the front door.


    “I’ll get it,” I said automatically, starting to rise from the couch.


    Caleb’s hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist with surprising strength. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through me, but it was his


    expression that made my blood run cold.


    His head was tilted slightly, nostrils ring, and his entire body had gone rigid with tension.


    “What is it?” I whispered, though I was already afraid I knew.


    “I smell Alpha,” he said quietly, his voice tight with barely controlled rm. “Strong Alpha. And it’s getting closer.”


    My heart stopped. Then started beating so hard I thought it might burst from my chest.


    *No. Oh God, no. They found me.*


    Every emotion I’d been trying to suppress for three weeks crashed over me at once. Terror, longing, guilt, panic–they all twisted


    together in my stomach until I thought I might be sick.


    “Sarah?” Margaret’s voice came from the kitchen doorway, sharp with concern. She must have sensed the sudden tension in the room.


    “What’s wrong?”


    But before anyone could answer, the knocking came again. Harder this time. More insistent.


    And then I heard it. The voice that haunted my dreams.


    “Sera! I know you’re in there!”


    My vision went white around the edges. The room tilted sideways.


    *Damien *


    “Oh, honey: Margaret was beside me in an instant, her arms wrapping around my shoulders as my knees buckled. “Robert! Robert, get


    over here!”


    But I could barely hear her over the sound of my own pulse hammering in my ears. Damien was here. Somehow, impossibly, he’d found <ol><li>me. </li></ol>


    “Come on,” Margaret whispered urgently, pulling me to my feet. “Come with me, sweetheart. Right now.”


    She half–carried me across the living room, through a doorway I’d never noticed before, into a small space that felt like a closet but was clearly meant for hiding. A panic room, maybe, or just a clever architectural feature that provided concealment.


    The space was small but not cramped, with a tiny window that faced away from the front of the house and a chair that suggested this hiding spot had been used before.


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    145 Chapter 145


    “Margaret, I—”


    “<i>Shh</i>.” She stroked my hair with gentle, motherly hands. “You’re safe, baby. No one can find you here. We’ll handle this.”


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