The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 72: Chapter 72: The Bouquet

Selene’s POV~

The sharp ring of the doorbell pulled me out of sleep like a blade dragging across silk. My head felt heavy, as though the weight of the bond still pressed me down. A groan slipped past my lips as I rolled from bed, bare feet dragging across the floorboards.

Sara wasn’t here; she had left for her own home earlier, so the silence of the house pressed against me, thick and suffocating. I rubbed at my eyes, still half lost in dreams, and shuffled toward the door.

Already impatient from being disturbed, I could hardly get any good sleep. The thing I hated most was when someone woke me up—I rather preferred waking up naturally.

Another impatient ring.

"I’m coming..." I mumbled, more to myself than to whoever waited outside.

The lock clicked under my hand, and the door creaked open.

And a wall of color filled my vision. Roses. Carnations. Lilies. A bouquet so large it nearly swallowed me whole. My sleepy mind blinked at the absurdity of it—petals brushing my nose, the faint dampness of rain clinging to the stems.

Before I could gather my wits, a low voice, smooth and faintly edged, murmured from behind the flowers.

"Good morning, dear. Are you awake yet?"

Recognition stirred. My lips curved before my mind caught up. "Why are you giving me a bouquet?"

around the stems as though accepting were instinct. I placed the flowers on the table, their scent

turned back, he was already

human, but I believe he has more capabilities than most

him, we didn’t talk much, but as time passed, we kept encountering each other, and I never realized

deep connections across all races, and with his help, Sara and I were able

that—quiet, certain, as though the space belonged to him the moment he

covered the upper half of his face, but nothing could disguise the sharpness of his gaze. For a

bore a terrifying scar from fire. Yet it did nothing to lessen his beauty—for beauty

he said, his voice a deep hum that sank into the silence, "flowers might suit you better

laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "You’re ridiculous." I already knew Sara must have told him that I was alone here so he could come and accompany me. I don’t mind loneliness at all,

hadn’t expected an answer. Then, with a restrained motion, he reached for my hand. His grip was

again, as though testing the words on his

at him, his expression was unreadable...eyes

him away. I didn’t know why, but

nothing wrong with kissing someone’s hand like that—in his mind, it was pretty common,

I looked back, his gaze seemed to be elsewhere—on the table, on the rain streaking the window, on the steam from the pan. I told myself

wasn’t looking, I felt it—that quiet pressure against my

stiffen. He moved closer, slow enough that I noticed only when the warmth

alone," he said quietly, as though it