His Mothers Kindness

  “I’ll find it. I’m a Hunter,” she snapped, throwing the words over her shoulder without breaking stride.

  Adolphus winced theatrically, one hand lifting to his temple as though her words had physically pained him. “You might want to keep that down,” he warned, his voice quieter but no less firm.

  That stopped her. She turned to face him, her golden eyes blazing as she leveled him with a glare that could have melted steel. 

  For a moment, they stood there in silence, her anger crackling in the air between them like an electrical storm.

  Adolphus just smiled, a slow, crooked grin that didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Careful,” he said softly. “Your glare might actually work if you keep practicing.”

  Her jaw clenched, and without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and resumed her march toward the settlement, her strides longer and quicker than before.

  Adolphus shook his head with a small laugh, falling into step behind her. 

  He didn’t say anything more, but the smirk on his lips spoke volumes. 

  What a rebel, he thought, his dark eyes watching her determined figure.

  She kept her gaze forward, her mind racing with irritation. His calm demeanor, his constant trailing after her like a shadow—it all grated on her nerves. 

  Why does he keep following me? 

  Does he think I’ll get lost? 

  Or is this just some power play, him reminding me that I’m trapped here under his watch?

  The settlement came into view, a scattering of houses and cabins nestled among the trees, the faint sounds of chatter and movement drifting through the air. Seraphina’s pace didn’t falter. 

  She was determined to find her clothes, no matter how many obstacles—or werewolves—stood in her way.

  Behind her, Adolphus followed with the kind of easy grace that came naturally to him, his rugged figure relaxed but ready. 

  He wasn’t worried about her finding his mother’s room or even escaping. 

  She was fiery, yes, but also impulsive. 

  She’d stumble before she got too far. And when she did, he’d be there—always just one step behind.

  Seraphina stepped into the modest house, her eyes sweeping over the interior. It was far simpler than Adolphus’s—wooden beams crisscrossed the low ceiling, and the floors were scuffed, telling stories of years of use. 

  The walls were lined with shelves cluttered with old books, jars filled with herbs, and trinkets that had clearly been collected over a lifetime. 

  The place smelled earthy, like lavender and rosemary, with a faint undertone of something freshly baked.

  Adolphus’s mother, a petite woman with warm brown eyes and streaks of silver in her dark hair, greeted her with a gentle smile. 

  Despite her age, she carried herself with a quiet strength, her movements purposeful and fluid.

  “Seraphina,” she said, her voice soft but confident. “Come in, dear.” Seraphina remembered seeing her at the general hot tub yesterday.

  Seraphina nodded, stepping over the threshold. She couldn’t help but notice how little Adolphus resembled his mother. 

  Where he was all sharp angles and towering presence, she was softer, more welcoming, with a kindness in her eyes that made Seraphina’s tension ease ever so slightly.

  “Here.” His mother handed her a neatly folded bundle of clothes—a pair of torn jeans, a simple t-shirt, and a well-worn jacket. “I washed and dried these for you. They’re clean.”

  Seraphina’s fingers brushed against the fabric as she took the clothes. She hesitated before mumbling, “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to wear them,” his mother continued kindly. “We have plenty of other clothes here. You’re welcome to something new.”

  Seraphina’s jaw tightened. “I’d rather wear these,” she said flatly, clutching the bundle closer to her chest. 

  She didn’t want to explain her aversion to their clothes or why she felt like accepting anything else would be conceding too much.

  Adolphus’s mother studied her for a moment, her gaze curious but not unkind. “I understand,” she said with a small nod. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

  The response caught Seraphina off guard. Used to bracing herself for conflict, she found it surprisingly hard to be rude to this woman. 

  There was no malice, no judgment—just quiet understanding. 

  For once, Seraphina had no sharp retort to give, so she said nothing and simply stood there awkwardly.

  “Well,” his mother said after a beat, “stay for dinner. It’s already prepared, and I’d love the company.”

  Seraphina shook her head quickly. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need—”

  “It’s a crime to reject an invitation from the Alpha’s mother,” Adolphus’s voice interrupted as he stepped into the room, his presence as overwhelming as ever. 

  He leaned casually against the doorway, his black eyes gleaming with mischief as he smirked at her.

   He was in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, his usual cocky energy radiating from him.

  Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I never kid,” he replied smoothly, straightening and sauntering further into the room. “You’d better sit down, Butterfly, before my mother takes offense.”

  His mother laughed softly. “He’s exaggerating,” she said, though there was a twinkle in her eye. “But really, it would mean a lot if you stayed.”

  Seraphina exhaled heavily, her frown deepening. She didn’t like being cornered, especially not by Adolphus. 

  But refusing outright would only make things worse. Reluctantly, she muttered, “Fine.”

  Adolphus’s smirk widened as he pulled out a chair at the modest wooden table. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  She shot him a glare as she sat down stiffly, gripping the edge of the chair like it might swallow her whole. 

  Adolphus’s mother set a steaming plate of food in front of her, and the aroma made her stomach growl involuntarily.

  Adolphus slid into the seat across from her, watching her every move with an infuriatingly smug expression. “Welcome to the family dinner, Butterfly,” he said with a teasing lilt, his tone dripping with mockery.

  Seraphina ignored him, focusing on the plate in front of her. 

  She would eat, because her hunger was undeniable, but she refused to let her guard down—not in front of him. Not in this house.