Chapter 146

Agnes

I rushed toward Elijah, my heart hammering in my chest. Even in the dim light of the entryway, his black eye was startlingly obvious—a dark, angry bruise circling the socket. He was slumped against the door, looking exhausted, but he straightened when he saw me, grimacing slightly from the effort.

In his arms, I noticed he was clutching a bouquet of red roses, a box of chocolates, a bottle of wine, and what looked like a card. Despite his obvious pain, he held them out to me like a schoolboy with his first valentine.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he said softly. “I know it’s technically over, but…”

“Goddess, Elijah, what happened to your eye?” I interrupted, ignoring the gifts and stepping closer to examine his face. The bruise was already beginning to yellow at the edges—a sign his werewolf healing abilities were kicking in, but it still looked painful.

He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a wince. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” I said. I slipped my arm around his waist. “Come on, let’s get you to the kitchen.”

He leaned on me just slightly as we made our way through the darkened house. I flicked on the kitchen lights, careful to keep the noise down so we wouldn’t wake Thea in the other room. Elijah settled onto a barstool at the island and laid out the gifts while I filled a dish towel with ice.

“Hold this against it,” I instructed, pressing the makeshift ice pack to his eye. Our fingers brushed as he took over, and a little spark of electricity shot up my arm. I swallowed hard and turned away to fill a glass with water.

As I handed him the water, I couldn’t help but find it almost ironic—just that morning, he’d been the one tending to my pricked finger in the bathroom, and now the roles had reversed. Life had a strange way of balancing things out sometimes.

“So,” I said, leaning against the counter across from him. “Are you going to tell me what actually happened?”

Elijah sighed, lowering the ice pack. The bruise did look better already—less swollen, the color fading from deep purple to a mottled blue-yellow.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he began. “For Mother’s Day. I know yesterday was… well, a disaster. I wanted to make it up to you.”

My chest warmed at the thought. After everything that had happened, he still wanted to celebrate me as a mother, even though he didn’t have to.

“I picked up the flowers and chocolates,” he continued, nodding toward the gifts. “And the card and the wine. But it didn’t feel like enough. Not after everything. So I went to the witch’s shop to see if there were any updates on the spellbook. Or breaking the mate bond with Olivia.”

My heart skipped a beat. So that’s where he’d been. Not avoiding me because of our kiss, not regretting it, but trying to find a way for his bond with Olivia to end.

“The witch wasn’t there,” he went on. “Shop was closed. As I was leaving, I got jumped by a few rogue wolves in the alley.”

“What?” I gasped. “Are you okay? I mean, besides the eye?”

He nodded, reaching out to take my hand. “I’m fine. Fought them off, and trust me, they were in worse shape than I am. Just picked up this little souvenir in the process.” He gestured to his eye with his free hand, offering me a wry smile.

I stared at him, astonished. Leave it to Elijah to let something like that happen to himself for my sake. He could have been seriously hurt—or worse—all because he was trying to find a way to break his mate bond.

For me. Mostly.

“You shouldn’t have gone alone,” I said anyway. “That was dangerous.”

“It was worth it,” he replied simply, and the look in his eyes made my pulse quicken. He reached past me to grab the box of chocolates from the counter, opening it with one hand. “Here, try one.”

I couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances. He was hurt, had been attacked, and yet here he was, feeding me chocolates in the middle of the night. I let him place one on my tongue, the rich chocolate melting immediately.

“Mmm,” I hummed appreciatively. “That is good.”

His eyes darkened slightly as he watched me, and I felt fresh heat creep up my neck.

Elijah’s gaze shifted then, looking past me into the living room where evidence of our girls’ night remained—nail polish bottles, the half-eaten bowl of popcorn, the blanket rumpled on the couch with Thea sleeping beneath it.

“Looks like you two had fun tonight,” he observed.

I nodded, following his gaze. “We did. Breakfast for dinner, nail painting, hair braiding. The works. She fell asleep during the movie.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly. “You both needed something good after yesterday.”

I leaned against the island, thinking about the sweet evening with Thea. “She called me her hero, you know. For coming to save her.”

Elijah smiled. “Well, you were.”

I shook my head. “I don’t feel like one after that incident. But…” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I think I’d do it again in a heartbeat if she was in danger. She’s my daughter in all the ways that matter.”

My voice broke slightly on the word “daughter,” and Elijah reached out to touch my cheek.

“I was glad to spend the night with her,” I continued, “doing all those little things I never got to do with my biological daughter.” I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but I could feel them welling up anyway. “Now that people believe me—that she might still be out there—I can’t help but hope that someday…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. The idea that I might someday find my daughter was too overwhelming to put into words. Seven years of being called crazy and delusional, and now, suddenly, people were starting to believe me. It was almost too much to process.

Elijah seemed to understand. He stood, retrieving the bottle of wine and two glasses from the counter. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested. “Get some fresh air.”

I nodded gratefully, grabbing the chocolates and following him out to the back porch. The night was clear and cool, the stars spilled across the sky like diamonds. We settled into the cushioned patio chairs, and Elijah poured us each a glass of wine.

The first sip warmed me from the inside, and I felt some of the tension leaving my shoulders. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just looking at the stars, sipping our wine and munching on chocolate. It was peaceful—a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days. Past few months. Years, really.

Finally, I gathered my courage to voice the thought that had been nagging at me since I found the house empty.

“I was worried,” I admitted quietly. “When you didn’t come home. When you didn’t answer my text. I thought maybe… after our kiss in the bathroom today…”

Elijah shot me a sidelong glance.

“I thought maybe you regretted it,” I continued, staring down at my wine glass. “That maybe you’d just seen Olivia before you found me, and the mate bond was still affecting you. That’s why you kissed me.”

Elijah’s expression shifted to one of hurt, and then determination. He set his wine glass down and turned to face me fully.

“Agnes,” he said firmly. “I kissed you because I wanted you. Because I’ve been wanting you for weeks now. Because I miss your touch, your taste.” He leaned forward, his gaze intense. “Not because of Olivia. Never because of Olivia.”

My heart raced at his words, and I felt a familiar heat building low in my belly. The way he was looking at me made it hard to breathe.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “About us. That night we shared.”

I bit my lip, remembering. One night, months ago now. It had been perfect—tender and passionate and everything I’d ever wanted. And then it was gone, replaced by the cold reality of our situation.

“I think about it too,” I confessed. “Every night.”

The air between us seemed to turn thick then. I glanced at him sheepishly from under my lashes, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the softness of his lips, the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.

“Would it be stupid?” I asked suddenly. “To act on this now? With everything still so complicated?”

Elijah gazed at me for a long moment, the stars reflecting in his eyes. The bruise was almost gone now, evidence of his advanced Alpha healing. Finally, he shrugged.

“Probably,” he admitted. “But it’s Mother’s Day. Well, the day after Mother’s Day, anyway.” A small smile played at the corner of his lips. “Is that what you truly want for your gift? Me?”

My breath caught in my throat. The air around us seemed to still, the sounds of crickets fading away into the distance.

I bit my lip, considering all the complications, all the reasons we shouldn’t. Olivia. The mate bond. The potential fallout. But then I thought of his lips on mine in the bathroom, his hands on my thighs, the way he made me feel alive in a way no one else ever had.

Slowly, I nodded.

Elijah stood then, towering above me in the starlight, and held out his hand. His eyes were dark with desire and something even deeper than that as he looked down at me.

“Then let’s be stupid,” he said softly. “Just this once.”