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?"

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

I turned back, he was already inside.

ago. He is human, but I believe he has more capabilities than most humans. The man had become a very good friend

encountering each other, and I never realized when he became so close to me. Most of the information we managed

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

moment he stepped into it. His hair was damp from the rain, dark strands

gaze. For a heartbeat, it pinned

of his face bore a terrifying scar from fire. Yet it did nothing to lessen his beauty—for beauty was never

a deep hum that sank into the silence, "flowers

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, but I also don’t mind his company. After all, he is a good

with a restrained motion, he reached for my hand. His

as

him, his expression was unreadable...eyes lowered, mask shadowing most of his face.

him away. I didn’t know why, but whenever he was

nothing wrong with kissing someone’s hand like that—in his mind, it was pretty common, as most human men did when they wished to appreciate

obeyed without protest, though I felt his presence even when he wasn’t speaking. Each time 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 that was just who he was: a man of few words, distant and

I wasn’t looking, I felt it—that quiet pressure against my back, as though unseen eyes

scrape of a chair made me stiffen. He moved closer, slow enough that I noticed only when the

quietly,