CHAPTER 487: SHE’S HOME

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Chapter 487

~Richard’s POV~

"She’s home." My wolf’s certainty resonated deep within me as I turned onto the quiet lane, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

"We don’t know that," I answered, the words barely a whisper.

"She’s home," he insisted again, a low, unwavering conviction. "And if she isn’t, we’ll wait."

A frustrated breath escaped me. Showing up unannounced wasn’t my style. But since returning from the Lycan Kingdom, each passing hour had felt like an eternity.

The demands of Kaid’s affairs, the endless orders, the council’s persistent messes... none of it brought me any semblance of peace.

Not with Ella here, yet still emotionally out of reach. A fact Killian wouldn’t let me forget.

And soon, I’d have to return to that political battlefield, finalizing the council’s stake in the alliance for Kaid while he chased after love.

My wolf had been a restless shadow since we’d found Snow and Zara—since that terrifying night when everything had nearly shattered.

Ella had been fierce, resilient, scarred, and undeniably strong. The memory of Vera’s attack against Zara and how the same Vera had attacked and almost killed her first haunted my thoughts.

So, I’d found her a new sanctuary, furnished with care that mirrored my hopes for her comfort. It was a quiet street with strong locks and one of my warriors guarding her discreetly.

I’d paid the rent upfront, pressed the keys into her hand, offering no explanations, just a silent promise of safety.

But today, the pretence of distance had crumbled.

"You should’ve claimed her." Killian’s mental murmur was laced with impatience. "The moment she opened that door."

"She was raw with worry for Zara, Kill. Hurt, afraid... even burdened by a misplaced guilt for her friend’s disappearance."

"That wasn’t her fault."

"No. But Ella felt the weight of it. Had her memories been intact, she would have seen through Vera sooner."

"Well, that was your damn chance to make a move, to finally solidify the bond."

A loud groan escaped me. "Kill, how many times must I say it? You don’t force yourself on someone when they’re barely crawling out of hell."

"You didn’t have to force anything. But you left."

I pulled up to the curb, the engine’s low hum fading into silence. "Biting isn’t exactly a normal first step, you know. Besides," I added with a newfound resolve, "I am here now. I will claim our mate and earn her trust."

I walked up the steps and knocked firmly, three deliberate raps.

The sky bled into dusk, a soft lilac wash over the rooftops. My gaze flickered to my watch. 5:03 p.m.

"Please be home. Please," the silent plea echoed in my mind while I waited.

The door opened, and there she was.

Her hair a riotous twist atop her head, bare feet planted on the threshold, sleeves rolled high as if she’d been immersed in chores—cleaning, cooking, perhaps both. Her lips parted slightly as her eyes met mine, a fleeting surprise gracing her features.

That single, unguarded moment was all it took.

Without a word, without hesitation, the longing that had clawed at me for days surged to the surface. I threw caution to the wind, stepped across the threshold, and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle, wasn’t a carefully orchestrated move. It was the raw, untamed culmination of everything I’d suppressed for too long. The bond between us flared, a wildfire of heat and undeniable connection, and for a heartbeat, she stilled beneath my touch.

Her hands fluttered upwards, a hesitant gesture as if to create distance, but they didn’t push away. A small mercy I clung to, a silent reassurance for my restless wolf—hers—Ella.

Then, I felt it—the undeniable pull. The matebond snapped into sharp focus, no longer quiet but a vibrant, insistent force. And Ella kissed me back.

Soft at first, a hesitant exploration, then deeper, as if a long-held resistance within her finally yielded.

A fleeting smile touched my lips against hers before I broke the kiss, my breath mingling with hers in the close space.

"I wasn’t sure you’d be home," I murmured, my voice rough.

"I wasn’t expecting you," she replied, her voice low and slightly breathless.

"I didn’t want to wait anymore."

Silence hung between us, not awkward, not tense, but thick with unspoken emotions.

I saw the questions swirling in her eyes, but she didn’t voice them. Instead, she took a step back, and I followed her into the comforting warmth of her new home.

Although smaller than her previous place, it was cosy and warm. The air held a delicate fragrance—a soft candle glow and a hint of something warm and inviting, perhaps cinnamon or tea.

"I haven’t unpacked everything yet," she informed, as if needing to explain the still-sparse décor.

"I’m not here to inspect the furniture," I replied, my gaze fixed on her.

A sharp look flashed in her eyes before she turned and walked into the living room. I stayed close, respecting her space but unwilling to be far. My wolf, finally finding solace, settled within me.

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~Ella’s POV~

The knock at the door was sharp, decisive. Not demanding, not urgent—just... sure of itself.

I wiped my damp hands on a kitchen towel, a frown creasing my forehead as I glanced at the clock on the wall. 5:02 p.m.

I wasn’t expecting anyone.

The past few days had finally begun to settle into a semblance of normalcy, a fragile peace after the storm.

Everything that had happened—Vera’s betrayal, Snow’s tragic death, Zara’s miraculous return and Snow coming back to life—still felt surreal, like a vivid, unsettling dream.

But beneath the strangeness, I felt contented.

The new house, tucked away in a quieter part of the city, felt like a sanctuary—no more reminders of Kent Wayne.

Richard had found it himself, an act of care. He’d simply handed me a set of keys and said, "It’s yours. Stay safe here."

I hadn’t questioned the speed at which he’d secured it or the cost. Some questions were best left unasked.

As I approached the door, a familiar presence washed over me, triggering Vicky’s immediate, internal purr. "Our mate’s here, Ella."