The Alpha's Daydream ✔️

Epilogue

3942 words

~22 years ago~

"Do you have something going on with my brother?"

Small branches snapped and leaves crushed under their footsteps, light though they were. The sun was insipid, throwing pale rays on the cold and empty forest they walked through. She didn't even turn her head when she opened her lips to answer, ""Would you believe me if I said no?"

"Doubtful," he grunted, his usual cynicism making itself known. A thread of jealousy wound its way through his word, humming like a current of electricity between them.

"Hmm." She pushed back a low-hanging branch from a pine, letting it fling back and hit him on purpose. Her eyes scanned the trees, vacant of any life as the cold of winter had set in, yet she faintly sensed the presence of something else, further up the mountain side they trekked up.

"Is that a yes or a no?" he persisted, beginning to irritate her.

"Did I say something?" she finally stopped to turn and face him, her black eyes narrowing as they landed on his strong figure that stood out starkly against the white snow. His black clothing, covering his powerful physique, was lightly dusted with the crystalline flakes as they floated down lazily around them. One landed on his nose, causing him to shake his head like the young dog he was.

Then he trained his honeyed brown gaze on her, an eyebrow lifting playfully. "Seneca... are you playing hard to get?"

She rolled her eyes, done with this familiar conversation already, yet enjoying the way they played with each others' volatile emotions. After countless missions together, it was hard not to learn everything about one another. "What makes you think I want to be gotten by the likes of you, a half-breed pup?" She teased, knowing he hated being called that.

"I'm wounded! I'll have you know, I'm seven hundred and forty three years old," he stomped behind her to catch up after she rudely turned her back on him and continued walking.

"Exactly my point. True fallen angels don't keep count of the years they've walked the earth."

He chuckled. With audacity from years of arrogant confidence, he chuckled. "Yeah, that's because you're all so old that the activity becomes depressing."

She rushed him and slammed him against a tree, her forearm pressed to his neck, her slim body molded into his. "I'm not depressed," she hissed, baring her perfectly straight teeth.

"Tell that to my windpipe you're crushing," he puffed with what air he had remaining in his lungs.

"I thought I heard you boasting just this morning that you could handle a little...pressure," she leaned against him harder, making his veins pulse and his face flush with crimson. That was unique to him, his wolf DNA giving him the ability to bleed red. She much preferred the ivory complexion of her own flawless skin.

"Oh, I do. But I thought you'd never notice," his eyes narrowed as he looked at her languidly. His heart beat in his chest, sending shockwaves of delicious vibrations into her own body.

A heartbeat later, he'd crushed his lips to hers, and she moved her arms up around his neck and pulled him closer. As they kissed, his warmth filled her skin, his hands exploring the curves of her body in ways she never imagined she'd enjoy. Being an angel meant immunity to the emotions of mortals, yet since rebelling against the King, she'd done and felt a good many forbidden things.

"How long are we going to keep hiding how we feel, Seneca?" he breathed against her neck, the heat sending shivers across her collarbone and down her chest.