Chapter nineteen
669 Words
Alfie parked in front of her house. He knew she was home; her scent lingered in the air, sweet and sharp, mixing with the flowers he’d left at her doorstep days ago—flowers she never acknowledged. Not a single text. Not even a thank you.
When Casey finally walked down the stairs, Alfie’s wolf surged against his skin. She looked fragile, arms folded across her chest, hair tucked nervously behind her ear. Her green eyes were guarded, and he hated that look—like she had built a wall just for him.
“You didn’t return my calls,” he said softly, fighting to keep his tone under control.
“I was… busy.” Her arms stayed crossed, her body angled away.
“Can we talk?”
She pointed toward the living room. She sat in the armchair, leaving the coffee table between them like a shield. He took the sofa, his wolf howling at the distance.
“I want to believe we started on the wrong foot,” Alfie said, his pride wincing at the words.
Casey’s lips parted in surprise. “It has nothing to do with you, Alfie. I’m not… fond of relationships. At all.”
Her blush betrayed her, and Alfie’s chest swelled with hope. He mistook the memory of Riley burning in her mind for desire toward him.
“Maybe that can change,” he urged, leaning forward.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” she whispered.
“I’m not a bad man, Casey.” His hand twitched, aching to touch her.
“I never said you were,” she shot back quickly, anger replacing panic. “But forcing me into marriage won’t win my trust.”
“I waited for years!” The confession ripped from him before he could stop it.
Her eyes widened. “Years?”
“Yes. Since college. The first time I saw you… I couldn’t look away.” His jaw clenched.
She exhaled sharply. “That sounds more like stalking.”
“I never stalked you,” he said firmly, pride heavy in his tone. And strangely, she believed him—because Alfie Satton’s ego was too great for lies of that sort.
Still, her wolf hissed inside her: Liar. Liar.
Casey stood, arms crossed tighter. “I know you came with good intentions. But I need space. Space to cope with this… engagement.”
He rose too, towering over the table. His voice lowered, almost a growl. “I’ll give you space. But I need something in return.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And that is?”
“A kiss.”
Her stomach dropped. Her wolf shrank back into silence. Coward, she thought bitterly. But she couldn’t risk him coming back again and again until she broke.
“And you’ll leave me alone until the engagement party?”
“Deal.”
Two steps and he was in front of her. His hands were on her—one gripping her waist, pulling her close, the other sliding up to her neck. His eyes burned with hunger barely masked by civility. And then his lips were on hers—hard, insistent, claiming.
Casey froze. His kiss was heat, pressure, possession. She hated every second of it. Her lips parted reluctantly, giving him the illusion of victory. But inside she was numb, her wolf refusing to respond.
Alfie felt it too. Her body yielded but her soul did not. Cold. Empty. No spark. Still, the kiss was proof that he had something of her. His wolf roared with triumph.
When he finally pulled away, she inhaled sharply, relief spilling from her chest.
Alfie stormed out without another word, his frustration echoing in every step.
Casey’s phone buzzed immediately. A new message lit the screen.
“Tomorrow. 10 a.m. You’ll meet my partner. Be ready.” – Riley
Her heart skipped. She touched her lips, still raw from Alfie’s kiss. But it wasn’t his taste that lingered—it was the ghost of silver eyes, and the fire she couldn’t deny.
- Writer
