Chapter 85

Agnes

My hands trembled as I spread peanut butter and strawberry jam across two slices of plain white bread, the smooth, sticky pink surface of the jam gleaming under the kitchen lights. I tried my best just to focus on making the sandwich and nothing else, but the butter knife kept clinking against the counter, betraying the slight shake in my grip.

I could still feel Elijah’s lips on mine, his hands digging into my waist. It felt as if he had burned holes through the fabric of my clothes with his fingers.

What was that between us? The air had felt like it was full of embers, and it was as if our bodies had been drawn together by invisible ropes, tying us together and forcing us to kiss.

For a moment, just a moment, I let myself wonder… was that a manifestation, somehow, of the mate bond we would have shared if my wolf hadn’t gone away? Was that a sliver of my wolf slipping out, just as it had when I’d fought those rogues?

No. It couldn’t be. My wolf was still hidden beneath whatever magic had sealed her, and she had only come out to save my life when those rogues had attacked.

She was gone now. I couldn’t feel her presence in the slightest.

But it still didn’t explain that kiss…

Thea’s voice broke through my fog. “Mommy, why are you shaking?”

I blinked, glancing down at her. She was seated at the kitchen table, swinging her legs back and forth beneath her chair, her teddy bear tucked under one arm.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

Thea’s lips pursed as if she didn’t believe me. “You’re all red,” she said matter-of-factly, pointing at my face. “Like a tomato.”

I turned back to the sandwich, hoping she couldn’t see how much her words had just rattled me. “It’s just warm in here,” I murmured.

The truth was, my cheeks weren’t red from the heat. In fact, it was quite cool in here. And Thea, the smart girl that she was, knew that very well.

“Were you kissing my Daddy?” Thea’s voice was as innocent as ever, but the words hit me like a lightning bolt.

I froze mid-spread, the knife hovering over the slice of bread. Slowly, I turned to face her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “What?” I finally croaked, my voice an octave higher than usual.

Thea grinned, her eyes sparkling. “You were! I can tell! Your face looks the same as when I saw you two kissing on your birthday.”

Of course she noticed. Of course.

That girl was too smart for her own good sometimes, wasn’t she?

I clutched the counter for support, my knees threatening to give out beneath me. “Thea, I…” I trailed off, completely at a loss for words. How could I even begin to explain the complete and utter mess that was my confusing relationship with Elijah to a seven year old?

But before I had to come up with a response, Thea giggled, pressing a finger to her lips conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, Mommy. I’ll keep your secret.”

I gaped at her, unsure whether I should laugh or cry or maybe even both. But before I could muster a response, she slid off her chair, grabbed her teddy bear and her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and scampered off, humming to herself as if she hadn’t just upended my entire world.

That night, sleep eluded me.

I tossed and turned in bed, the sheets tangling around my legs like vines. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. The memory of his touch, his voice murmuring my name against my skin, haunted me like an angry spirit. My body still hummed from the intensity of it, a low, thrumming ache that refused to subside no matter how many times I rolled over and tried to will it away.

“Get a grip, Agnes,” I whispered to myself, staring up at the ceiling. But my body didn’t seem to be listening. My skin felt too hot, my nerves too alive, and my mind too full of him.

With a frustrated sigh, I threw the covers off and padded to the bathroom. Maybe a bath would help, I figured. Either it would soothe my frayed nerves or distract me long enough for exhaustion to take over me.

I ran the water, letting the warm steam fill the room as I added a few drops of lavender oil. The scent was supposed to be calming, and Goddess knew I needed that right now. Once the bath was full, I slipped off my pajamas and left them in a pile on the floor.

Sinking into the tub, I let the heat envelop me, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the soothing sensation of the water lapping against my skin.

But it didn’t take long for my thoughts to drift back to him.

I could still feel the weight of his hands on my waist, the way his lips had claimed mine like they were made for each other. My breathing hitched as I remembered the look in his eyes—the stormy intensity that had made my heart race and my knees weak.

My hand drifted across my skin, my fingers tracing the curve of my hip and down my thigh. It wasn’t intentional, at first—just a subconscious attempt to ground myself. But as the memory of his touch grew sharper and more vivid, I found myself unable to stop.

“Elijah,” I whispered, the name slipping from my lips before I could catch it. My cheeks burned as I realized what I was doing, but the tension coiled tightly in my stomach was impossible to ignore.

I closed my eyes, my breath hitching as my hand dipped lower. My mind was a haze, filled with nothing but the thought of him—his voice, his touch, the way he had made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.

But then I heard it.

Footsteps. A floorboard creaking.

Thea. She must have had a nightmare and was coming to sleep with me.

My eyes flew open, my heart leaping into my throat as I scrambled out of the tub. Water sloshed over the edges, soaking the floor, but I didn’t care. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it around myself and rushed into the bedroom, my wet feet leaving a trail on the hardwood.

“Thea?” I called out, my voice trembling slightly.

But Thea wasn’t there. In fact, the room was empty. And yet…

I could smell him. Elijah. His scent was lingering in the air, faint but unmistakable. My eyes darted to the bedside table, where a steaming cup of tea was sitting next to a small sticky note.

My stomach dropped.

With trembling hands, I picked up the note and read the words written in Elijah’s all-too-familiar handwriting: “Heard you tossing and turning… Tea will help you sleep.”

A soft gasp escaped my lips, and I clapped a hand over my mouth as the realization hit me.

Had he heard me? Had he been in here just now?

Had he… heard me whisper his name in the bath as I pleasured myself?