A Sleepless Night

Seraphyne, on the other hand, didn't feel an ounce of worry about Zephyir as she had already decided to treat the man as nothing more than a roommate. She had reconciled herself to this arrangement, even if it did come with its own unique challenges.

But the same couldn't be said for Zephyir.

As he made his way to the study room at the end of the fifth floor, Zephyir couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settling over him.

'A bedroom can be designed in many ways... It's just a coincidence that something romantic occurred in it.' He comforted himself and tried to forget the idea. 

He had always been a man of discipline and order, clear about the boundaries that existed between him and Seraphyne. They were bound by duty, not by any romantic entanglement, and he had firmly believed that their relationship would remain strictly formal.

However, what he found when he entered the study room shattered his expectations. The room was meticulously organized, as it always had been, but something had shifted. It wasn't just the warm, ambient lighting or the subtle fragrance that permeated the air.

It was the thought and care that had gone into making the old room more welcoming.

'Even this place has changed...'

Zephyir couldn't deny the impact it had on him. They may have only been a couple in name, but the aura of intimacy that surrounded the room was undeniable. It was as though

Seraphyne had reached across the invisible boundaries they had set and extended an invitation, and it left Zephyir feeling strangely unsettled.

As he settled into the swivel chair, attempting to focus on the stack of pack documents he had brought with him, he found himself struggling to concentrate. His mind was clouded, his thoughts persistently drawn back to the room and the woman who occupied it.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustrated by his own distraction. He had always been a man of control, able to compartmentalize his thoughts and emotions with ease. But now, he couldn't escape the whirlwind of feelings that burned within him.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest, its rapid beat echoing the turmoil of his thoughts. His usually steady hands trembled ever so slightly. This sudden onslaught of emotions was disconcerting for a man who had always prided himself on his composure.

Zephyir couldn't help but wonder if the boundaries he had set between him and Seraphyne were beginning to blur, and it left him feeling both vulnerable and conflicted. As he tried to focus on his work, he couldn't escape the undeniable truth that something had changed, and he was not entirely sure what to do.

Attempting to immerse himself in the pile of documents before him, his mind was anything but focused on the task at hand.

Instead, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirled within him, leaving him to ponder many aspects of his life, including his past marriage.

Once, when he was still married to Lycia, there were feelings involved in that relationship at the start. They had entered into matrimony with genuine affection and shared dreams. Their ideas had once harmonized beautifully, and their partnership had seemed destined for success.

In the beginning, their compatibility had been a foundation for their bond. But as the years rolled on, Zephyir observed a gradual transformation in Lycia.

She had become increasingly dissatisfied with their life together, yearning for a closeness that Zephyir had struggled to provide. His responsibilities as Alpha and the demands of the pack had taken precedence as he sought to secure a brighter future for his family and their people.

Yet, as Lycia's desires outpaced his ability to meet them, their relationship had strained, and the gulf between them had grown. It became apparent that they had married not for love but for the sake of compatibility. The woman he had once shared dreams with was becoming a stranger, and the emotional distance between them had become insurmountable.

Now, years removed from those tumultuous times, Zephyir found himself in an unexpected predicament. He had become a mature, stable leader, and yet here he was, wrestling with emotions that felt eerily similar to those of a lovesick teenager.

He couldn't help but wonder why the presence of Seraphyne stirred such an emotional response within him.

She had entered his life under entirely different circumstances, and their relationship was defined by duty, not romantic attachment. 

'I can't be falling for her, right?'

He sighed and stared at the darkness outside of the window.

'I'm too old for love...'

But was he really too old for these complicated emotions?

Zephyir's night had been restless, filled with thousands of thoughts and emotions that kept him tossing and turning on his couch. It was sleeplessness he had never experienced before, and it left him feeling drained as the first light of morning began to filter through the curtains.

As the new day beckoned, it was the soft voice of housekeeper Piero that finally roused him from his fitful slumber. The notion of breakfast was offered, but Zephyir waved it away with a languid hand. "I'll join you later. I need to change first."

Stepping into the couple's bedroom, Zephyir couldn't help but notice the lingering scent of Seraphyne's perfume, which hung in the air like an intoxicating promise.

It was a kind of fragrance that held a unique allure, one that didn't trigger the nasal allergies that could plague werewolves. The scent, despite its undeniable charm, only served to deepen the complexity of his feelings.

Descending the grand staircase, Zephyir entered the dining room, expecting to find his wife and son awaiting him. However, the room was devoid of any other presence, and a sense of unease settled upon him.

"Where are they?" Zephyir inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of longing.

Piero, always efficient and composed, answered, "Luna needed to oversee the progress of her shop's renovation, and Kieiran departed for school early."

Zephyir nodded in acknowledgment of Piero's explanation and proceeded to his meal alone.

When he was finished, he returned to the now-empty bedroom, its decor still reflecting the intimacy Seraphyne had orchestrated.

The bed, neatly made, was a huge contrast to the disarray of his thoughts. He found himself inhaling the lingering scent of her perfume, a fragrance that danced between alluring and comforting.

His day was filled with meetings and responsibilities, each one a necessary diversion from the unusual feelings Seraphyne had stirred within him. The relentless pace allowed him to suppress his introspection temporarily.

As evening descended once again, Zephyir found himself standing before the large window in his study, gazing out at the sprawling grounds of the pack's territory. 

'I'm not a coward!'

Seraphyne found herself pleasantly surprised when Zephyir entered the bedroom. 

Zephyir acknowledged her with a nod and a polite greeting before disappearing into the en-suite bathroom. After his bath, Zephyir returned to the bedroom, his frame clad in a fresh set of clothes. The room was dimly lit, and Seraphyne, resembling a contented salted fish, lay comfortably on her side.

Her peaceful slumber seemed to show any form of guard or reservation against him.

'Is she always like this?'