CHAPTER 190: CHAPTER 190: CALL FROM HER

The words were more furious fantasy than promise...a thing I said to armor myself, but they tasted like iron in my mouth. He blinked, just for a second, as if surprised I’d dared speak so brutally. Maybe that small flicker of worry was the only thing that kept me from backing down.

I didn’t wait to see his reaction. Turning on my heel, I stormed out of the room, shoulders tense, steps brisk. My heart hammered as I walked away, and the sound of his breath behind me felt like daggers.

I hated myself for how my legs had wrapped around him, for how my lips had begged without permission. I hated the way my skin still tingled, the phantom of his hands on my waist making me ache.

By the time I reached the corridor, my hands were fists at my sides. I pressed my nails into my palms until the sting brought me back and forced me to breathe slower.

I glared at the blank wall and cursed myself silently for losing control. For letting desire show when I had to be careful. For making myself vulnerable in front of him.

I wanted to be furious. I wanted to be cold and untouchable...someone he would never be able to rattle again.

But under all that rage was a raw, shameful thing that wouldn’t calm down: I had wanted him. I hated that. I hated him for it. I hated myself for it.

Damn, all the werewolves are literally driven by need anywhere and anytime, and I have to say I am no better; just one look from him can make me behave like a bitch in heat.

Turning away from the doorway where he stood, I kept walking until the distance felt enough to hide the tremble in my limbs. I shoved my hands into my pockets, forced my face into a scowl, and vowed that I would never let myself be seen like that again.

***

Author’s POV~

Serena was still grumbling under her breath as she walked away, her steps sharp and restless. The air outside her room felt heavy, almost mocking her as she tried to calm down. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing, and her lips still tingled from that kiss.

"That idiot," she muttered, glaring at the floor. "Always walking in like he owns everything. Why did I even..." She cut herself off with a groan. "Ugh. I’m losing my mind."

She stormed back into her room, slamming the door behind her. The reflection in the mirror showed a girl who didn’t look like a princess at all... flushed cheeks, messy hair, and eyes full of emotions she didn’t want to name. She hated that look on herself.

Without a word, she walked into the bathroom, turned on the water, and splashed her face again and again until the cold bit into her skin. The shock helped. It cleared her head just enough to breathe again.

When she came out, her hair was damp and clinging to her neck, her clothes fresh, and her expression calm—or at least pretending to be.

Just then, Lira appeared at the doorway, holding her phone.

"Princess," she said softly, "your phone has been ringing non-stop."

Serena frowned. "Who is it?"

"It’s... your mother," Liya replied carefully.

For a second, Serena froze. Her chest tightened, and her fingers went still. Then, slowly, her face hardened, the softness in her eyes vanishing like mist.

But within moments, she drew in a quiet breath and smoothed her expression into something gentler.

"Alright," she said calmly. "I’ll take it."

She took the phone, wiped her wet hair with a towel, and pressed the screen. Her voice came out soft, sweet even.

"Hello... Mother."

On the other end came that calm, careful voice, the one that always sounded warm but somehow never reached Serena’s heart.

"Serena, dear," the woman said, tone smooth and composed. "I’ve been trying to reach you since morning. You really should answer your calls faster. It worries me when you don’t."

Serena smiled faintly, though her eyes were cold. "I’m sorry. I was in the shower."

"It’s fine," the woman said lightly, as if nothing was wrong. "How are you? Is everything going well? They’re treating you properly, I hope?"

"Yes," Serena replied evenly. "Everyone here takes good care of me. Everything is fine."

"Good," the woman said with a soft chuckle. "That’s what I like to hear. You always were so capable, just like your father."

The mention of him made Serena’s grip on the towel tighten. She forced her tone to stay gentle. "How is Mother?"

"Just missing my beautiful daughter," the woman replied after a short pause. "You know...I couldn’t sleep without seeing your face; it’s really hard to live without you."

Serena’s gaze lowered. "Mom...you should take care of your health."

There was a small laugh—too polite, too light. "Of course, dear. I am taking care of my health; don’t worry, Mother will soon visit you there."

Her throat felt tight, but she smiled anyway. "That’s good."

The woman’s voice softened, but not in the way a mother’s would. "You know, I sometimes wonder if he treats you better than he treats me. Tell me honestly...does he?"

Serena blinked slowly, her chest tightening in confusion and unease. "He’s... kind," she said carefully. "He’s always been fair to me."

"I see," the woman murmured. "Then I’m happy to know that. Truly."

There was silence—soft, heavy, awkward. Serena could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. The woman continued speaking lightly about how Serena should take care of her health, about how proud she must make her father, and about little things that meant nothing.

Serena replied to everything with quiet, polite answers, her voice steady and sweet. But her face had turned cold...calm, expressionless. The towel hung forgotten in her hand, her eyes fixed on nothing.

When the call finally ended, she stood there for a moment, still holding the phone. The fake warmth of that voice still lingered in her ears.

Then she lowered the phone and whispered to herself, barely loud enough to hear,

"I am also waiting for you to come... after all, is this not what you always want?"

Her voice was steady, but her eyes flickered with something sad—something she quickly buried before anyone could see.