bChapter /b28

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Felt up fully, esinging my legs oves the age of the bed. “Can’t just stay here forever? I mumble, rubbing my eyes. “You won’t even notice Fm here, I’ll just hide in theer and only Brusthe every either hour.”

Jasmine lets out a short, amusedugh “Unfortunately, no. This is my secret ce. And I still need my privacy. But… your’re wee to crash here anytime your mental health decides to jump off a cliff”

blink at her, then chuckle despite myself. It’s probably the kindest offer I’ve had in a long time. But the moment doesn’tst. The thought of going back there… to him… makes my stomach twist.

feel heat crawl up my neck as the memories m into me over and over again—Jack’s mouth on my skin, his hands iming every inch of me like he had every right because I belonged to him. His voice in my ear, whispering things that turned my insides to fire. I swear I can still feel his fingers in me.

And the shameless part?

I still want more. Not just his touch. Not just his hands. I want him fully–inside me, over and over–until Ie undoneb, /buntil I see stars and forget my

bown /bname.

I clench my fists in myp, furious with myself.

Fuck, this bisn’t /bme.

How am I supposed to look him in the eye now, knowing how much I still crave him? Knowing that I want more. That I want all of him.

But I can’t let him think that just because I gave in to the bond once, it means something. That I’ve changed my mind. That I’ve epted the mate bond between us.

I haven’t. I can’t.

We’re not together. I’m still going to reject him. I just… forgot for a moment. A long, hot, shameless moment.

“Why is your face so red?” Jasmine asks, raising an eyebrow. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

My eyes widen. “Nothing!”

She raises a brow, smirking, but doesn’t push. Instead, she turns and walks away, her silence oddlyforting.

She knows.

She definitely smelled what happened between Jack and me in her sacred little tree house–but she doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t judge me. I follow her out of the tree house in silence, grateful beyond words for her restraint.

The forest is quiet around us, birds chirpingzily, sunlight filtering through the trees in golden beams. It’s peaceful. Too peaceful.

But instead of heading toward the cell I had been thrown into, Jasmine veers left, taking a path I’ve never seen before. I frown. “Wait… this isn’t the way back. Where are we going?”

She nces over her shoulder. “Jack’s house.”

I stumble over a root, catching myself just in time. “What?”

“My brother said if you woke up, I should take you to his house,” she says casually, as if she hasn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “I guess you’re moving in with him.”

bI /bstop walkingpletely. “I’m not moving in with him.”

Jasmine blinks, clearly surprised. “You’re not? I thought… aren’t you two on good terms nowi? /iHaven’t you epted the bond?”

Charen 20

Her guan sharpen facher prometty into by “el met hits was hope you‘ is quite any “You sova about tha

eta aberta psites My chworks peus me away, forming an even deeper shade of red

ratan walking wean, hoping she won’t notice the entiracement on my face. “I’m sure? I say, though even to my over ears, the words und

sumo don’t press. She just falls into stop beside mus, and we walk in silence–me, parity annoyed, partly annout about where this is all going.

Eventually, us reach axial clearing, ande to a halt.

There’s a house. Not a grand pack mansion or some intimidating Alpha estate. Just… a medium–sized, beautifully built home. Cory Warm. Like this kind of ce someone might raise ba /bfamily

“We’re here.” Jasmine says simply

My brows knit together. This is Jack’s ce?”

Noticing my confusion, Jasmine lets out a quietugh. “This isn’t his main house. He has a mansion, yes–but he built this one because he wanted something simpler. A quiet, private space for his mate. A ce to start a life together,”

My heart skips a beat.

“But it didn’t bwork /bout,” she adds, her voice softer now. “At least not back then. Thankfully… you’re here.”

Her words bhit /bbharder /bthan I expected. His mate. His first mate.

bI’m /bonly the second chance… the second choice.

Suddenly, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to picture her walking through this house. I don’t want to imagine him with her. Not here. Not in this space he built for her.

I stay silent, mostly because I’m too busy trying to rx my clenched fists. Why am I even jealous? I don’t care who he built this ce for. It doesn’t mean banything /b

…Right?

bJasmine /bsmiles knowingly, like she can see right through me. “He should be here any minute. You can go inside.”

And just like that, she leaves me standing alone on the porch.

I stare at the front door for a long second before sighing and stepping inside.

The house smells like cedarwood and a faint hint of citrus–clean, but lived in. I wander slowly, trailing my fingers along the edge of the furniture. The space is warm–toned and tidy… but there’s a subtle emptiness to it. Like something’s missing.

It needs color. Personality. A woman’s touch.

But not mine.

I won’t be here long.

I whisper the words blike /ba warning to myself. I’m not the woman. I’m not staying.

I step into the bedroom–and freeze.

It’s spacious. The bed is enormous, draped in dark blue sheets that look dangerouslyfortable, like they were made to trap heat. I walk to the edge