•Room•
Ovelia’s POV
The warm water cascaded over my skin, steam rising in curling tendrils around . As I reached for the soap, my gaze caught on the healing wound along my forearm—the stitches had begun to unravel, threads clinging loosely to my damp skin. I gritted my teeth as I carefully pulled them free, each tiny tug sending sharp pinpricks of pain through my arm. But the wound no longer burned when I moved; only a dull ache remained.
Wrapping myself in a thick cotton towel, I stepped out of the bathroom—and froze.
Ace knelt by our travel bags, his back to as he sorted through supplies. The faint scent of pine and leather clung to him, mixing with the steam from my shower. He turned at the sound of my gasp, his gray eyes flickering over before quickly looking away.
"You’re finished." His voice was rougher than usual. "The door wasn’t locked. You should lock it when you’re changing." He grabbed a bundle of clothes from his pack, his movents unusually stiff as he brushed past into the bathroom.
My cheeks burned as I hurried to turn the lock. The click of the latch echoed loudly in the quiet room.
I had just pulled on my nightclothes when a soft knock interrupted the silence. Ann stood in the hallway, a dical kit clutched in her hands.
"May I co in?" she asked.
I stepped aside to let her enter. The door shut with a quiet thud behind her.
"Lady Ovelia, I’m sorry I didn’t treat your wound sooner." Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the kit.
"It’s alright; it’s healing pretty well," I assured her, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, the sheets cool against my skin.
Ann knelt beside , her expert fingers gently probing the injury. A small smile curved her lips. "You removed the stitches yourself. It’s closing nicely, my Lady." She smoothed ointnt across the wound, the herbal scent sharp in the quiet room.
"Thank you, Ann." I hesitated before adding, "You can call ’mother’ when the others are around. It... it feels nice."
Her hands stilled for a mont. When I glanced down, I saw the pink flush spreading across her cheeks. "If that’s what you want, Lady Ovelia." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she secured the fresh bandage.
The bathroom door creaked open, releasing a cloud of steam. Ace erged, his hair damp and tousled.
"I’ll head to the other room now, Lady Ovelia," Ann said quickly, snapping her dical kit shut.
I caught her hand before she could leave. "Thank you."
Her answering smile ward more than the shower had. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Ace and I alone in the moonlit room.
"Let’s sleep." Ace’s voice was low as he switched off the lamp. Darkness swallowed the room, softened only by the silver glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.
I lay stiffly on my side of the bed, listening to Ace’s steady breathing. The space between us felt both too vast and too small.
After what felt like hours, I turned onto my other side. Ace’s broad back faced , the rise and fall of his shoulders deceptively calm.
"Ace?" My voice sounded too loud in the quiet. "Are you awake?"
"Why?" His response ca imdiately, proving he’d been just as sleepless as I was.
The events of the day pressed against my chest—Mrs. linda’s motherly care, the shared al, the way Ace had held when I cried. Emotions swirled inside , too tangled to na.
"Ace," I tried again, my fingers twisting in the sheets. "Thank you for bringing on this mission. Even when I slow you down."
The silence stretched. Ace didn’t turn. Didn’t answer.
The space between us yawned wider in the dark.
Ace’s POV
Her words hung in the air between us, each one pressing against my chest like a physical weight. I lay perfectly still, my muscles tense as my wolf paced beneath my skin, urging to turn and pull her close. The scent of lavender from her bath still lingered in the sheets, mixing with the faint tallic tang of her healing wound.
"I’ve often wondered," Ovelia’s voice was barely above a whisper, the mattress shifting as she turned toward , "if I never knew I was adopted... if they’d raised as their real daughter instead of a sacrifice... would they have treated differently?"
The raw ache in her words sent a sharp pain through my chest. Yet beneath it, a quiet warmth spread—she was trusting with these fragile thoughts she’d kept locked away for so long.
Her fingers twisted in the blanket between us. "But their cruelty... in so twisted way, it saved ." A bitter laugh escaped her. "I learned to cook through split lips, scrubbed floors with bruised knees... but I swore no one else would suffer as I did." Her voice cracked, but the steel beneath never wavered.
The mattress dipped as she moved closer. "When you brought on this mission..." Her breath hitched. "Ace, the world is so much bigger than those books I hid in. Real food that doesn’t taste like ashes. Sunrises that don’t an another day of suffering." Her hand brushed against my back, tentative. "And this... whatever this is between us four. It feels like..."
"Family," I finished hoarsely, finally rolling to face her. Moonlight caught the tears glistening on her cheeks.
Her sudden embrace knocked the breath from my lungs. Her arms wrapped around from behind, her forehead pressing between my shoulder blades. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against my shirt. "For choosing that day in the woods. For seeing when no one else did."
My entire body went rigid. The mory she referenced—my wolf claiming her as a mate when she was a infant—was sothing she shouldn’t rember. No human could recall events from infancy that clearly. My pulse hamred against my ribs as the pieces clicked together: the strange gaps in her mories, the way she sotis spoke words no peasant girl would know. There was sothing else inside her, sothing powerful lying dormant. But why couldn’t my wolf sense it?
"Thank you for being my husband," she murmured, completely unaware of the storm raging inside .
Now wasn’t the ti for questions. Not when her warmth seeped into , not when her fingers traced idle patterns across my chest in a way that made my skin burn.
Her next words shattered what little control I had left. "When Ann called ’mother’... Ace, I know we’re friends first, but soday..." She swallowed hard. "Soday I’d like to have a child with you."
Sothing primal snapped inside . In one fluid motion, I rolled her beneath , pinning her wrists to the mattress. Her gasp echoed in the quiet room, her eyes wide with shock.
"Ovelia, I—" The truth clawed at my throat. That werewolf and human blood could never mix. That the child she dread of was impossible. But the scent of her fear and sothing sweeter, sothing inviting, drowned out all rational thought.
"I can’t hold back anymore," I growled, the words rough against her throat as I pressed closer. Every nerve ending burned where our bodies touched. "My wolf needs you. Now."
Ovelia’s POV
His confession sent a jolt through , equal parts terror and exhilaration. This was the third ti we’d danced along this precipice, yet my heart still pounded as if it were the first.
As his weight settled over , a quiet realization dawned: I wasn’t just his friend sharing a mission. I was his wife. His mate. The thought sent heat flooding through , pooling low in my stomach.
"Thank you," he breathed against my lips, the words vibrating through . Then his mouth captured mine, and the world narrowed to the scrape of his teeth, the slide of his tongue, the way his hands mapped my body like he was morizing every curve. The last coherent thought slipped away as I arched against him, surrendering to the fire between us.
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