My fingers tighten around the phone 127

Ethan’s POV
Afternoon sunlight streamed through my bedroom curtains, warming my face and gradually pulling me from deep sleep.
I lingered under the covers for a few precious minutes, stretching my aching muscles while savoring this rare moment of
peace. Last night had been chaos – wild wolves had attacked our territory borders again, leaving us scrambling to protect
our people.
David and I had barely rested, spending hours patching up the wounded and reorganizing patrol groups. The one bright
spot came when I spotted two of our training camp graduates taking charge, shouting clear commands and
implementing the exact tactics we’d drilled into them. Their quick thinking had helped us capture several wild wolves without losing any of our own. Watching them work had filled me with a fierce pride I couldn’t quite hide.
With a groan, I finally forced myself out of bed. The senior staff meeting about the attacks couldn’t wait forever. I
stumbled into the bathroom, peeled off my boxers, and cranked the shower to near-scalding. As steam filled the small
space, I stepped under the spray and pressed one palm against the cool tile to steady myself. The hot water hammered
my sore back, making me wince before the tension began melting away.
My mind drifted to a few nights ago when Leo had dumped my drunk ass at my godmother’s doorstep. The memory was
hazy, but I could still see her disapproving face as I’d awakened the next morning. She’d been sitting beside my bed,
those familiar golden eyes narrowed behind her glasses, her silver-streaked black hair pulled into the same neat bun
she’d worn throughout my childhood.
She was the gentlest soul I knew, which made disappointing her even worse. That night, I couldn’t face my empty
apartment or risk my parents seeing me so pathetic. My mother would’ve lectured me for hours, and my grandmother would’ve added her own cutting remarks. So Leo had brought me to the one place that had always felt safe – my
godmother’s warm little house that smelled of cinnamon and old books.
“Look at you,” she’d said, lips pressed into a thin line while examining my disheveled state. “Showing up at my door in
the middle of the night, reeking of cheap whiskey and bad decisions. Next time, you can sleep it off in your car, young
man.” Despite her harsh words, her eyes had held that familiar mixture of worry and love.
“Yes, mam,” I’d replied, making sure my words were clear despite my parched throat and pounding headache. My
godmother deserved every ounce of respect I could muster in my hungover state.
“You obviously can’t go home like this. Your parents shouldn’t see you in this condition.” Her tone carried the same
reprimand I’d heard throughout my childhood.
“Did Leo tell you what happened?” I’d asked sheepishly.
“He didn’t have to.” Her voice had softened then as she cupped my face in her hands, concern and compassion filling her
eyes. “I don’t know what you’re going through that requires this level of self-medication, but I’m here if you need me. Just
promise me one thing—clean yourself up and shave that scruff off your face.”
The warmth of her palm against my cheek had led me to wrap her in a tight embrace. She’d felt so small in my arms, yet
her unwavering strength had seeped into me.
Days later, even now as I showered, that love and strength lingered on my shoulders, reminding me of who I was and
what I represented.
I turned off the water and dried myself, wrapping a towel around my waist. Wiping the steam from the bathroom mirror, I
took a good look at myself. The shower had improved my appearance, but my usual stubble had transformed into an
unkempt beard. My godmother was right—I needed a shave.
“Ethan! You in here?” a familiar voice echoed from the hallway.
“Bathroom!” I called back, squirting shaving cream into my palm. The house was quiet enough that I could take my time,
mapping out where to start with the razor against my week-old scruff.
The door swung open as David appeared, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Morning!”
I squinted at him through the mirror, foam already covering half my face. “What’s got you so damn cheerful? We were up
all night with those attacks.”
David’s smile grew impossibly wider as he leaned against the doorframe. “Let’s just say I had a very good reason not to
sleep when I got home.”
I snorted, carefully dragging the blade along my jawline. “This mystery woman of yours better be worth all the secrecy. When do the rest of us peasants get to meet her?”
Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you’re on 𝗻𝚘𝑣𝘦𝕃5s.com for uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a
click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading!
“When she’s ready.” David crossed his arms, watching me work. “We’re taking things slow.”
His intense staring broke my concentration, causing the razor to slip. “Shit!” I hissed as a tiny line of blood appeared on
my chin. I dabbed at it with a towel, glaring at him. “What’s with the staring contest?”
David’s playful expression shifted, his eyes suddenly searching my face. “You seem… better today. Not so much like death warmed over.”
“can’t be better,” I muttered, turning back to the mirror to finish the job. The cut was already closing, my werewolf healing
handling the minor injury in seconds. David had fallen quiet, but I could practically hear the gears turning in his head.
“Listen, about Aria…” I began, rinsing the razor under the tap. “It’s complicated, but I’m handling it.”
“Handling it?” David repeated, eyebrows shooting up.
Before I could respond, a third voice cut through the room like a knife.
“Oh Aria, my sweet Aria! You’re my whole universe, my reason for breathing!” The mocking tone made both our heads
snap toward the doorway, where Leo lounged with an infuriating smirk plastered across his face.
“What the hell?” I growled.
Leo clutched his chest dramatically. “Just quoting you from your drunken poetry night. ‘Leo, you don’t understand, she’s
EVERYTHING to me! Everything!'” He staggered around in a poor imitation of my drunken state. “You repeated it at least
twenty times before passing out on your godmother’s couch.”
My knuckles went white around the razor handle. “Another word and I’ll rip your tongue out through your nose.”
“Relax, killer.” Leo held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just the messenger. Besides, you’ve got nothing to worry
about with me and Aria.”
David perked up. “Oh?”
Leo pushed himself off the doorframe with exaggerated nonchalance. “Yep. I made my move, kissed her, and got rejected
faster than a wolf pup trying to join the senior hunt.”
The mental image of Leo’s lips on Aria’s sent a wave of primal rage through me. My wolf surged forward, clawing beneath
my skin, demanding blood. I gripped the edge of the sink until the porcelain creaked under the pressure.
“You kissed her?” David asked.
“And lived to tell the tale,” Leo replied, his casual tone not quite masking something deeper in his expression. “But trust
me, I won’t be trying again. She practically shoved me away. Said it was like kissing her brother.” He shuddered
dramatically. “Not exactly the reaction a man hopes for.”
I quickly pulled on my boxers, pointedly ignoring Leo’s amused expression. While he and David exchanged hushed words,
my mind raced with possibilities. If Aria had rejected Leo… did that mean there was still hope for us?
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden blaring of my phone