Chapter 18
Summer’s POV
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I had been staying at the hospital with Felix for seven days straight. The scent of antiseptic had seeped into my skin, and the cold white lights overhead made my eyes feel dry and strained. I hardly left the stiff, narrow visitor’s chair beside his bed, only returning home briefly to shower and change clothes when absolutely necessary.
“You’ve been here for days without a break,” Alexander said softly, his arm wrapping gently around my shoulders as he coaxed me to my feet. “Today, I’m taking you somewhere.”
My instinct was to refuse–I didn’t want to be even a step away from Felix. But Alexander’s hand enclosed mine with patient firmness.
“Felix is stable for now. The nurses will watch over him. You need fresh air, Summer. Please. Just for a few hours.”
The concern in his eyes made it impossible to say no. And maybe… maybe he was right. I needed to breathe something other than antiseptic and grief.
“Okay,” I said quietly, “But we have to be back in time for dinner.”
He smiled–that familiar, heart–wrenching smile that made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
We drove away from the medical center, weaving through dense pine forests. Alexander’s black Range Rover rolled smoothly over the soft forest path. The windows were down, allowing the breeze to sweep in, carrying with it the scent of pine and wildflowers. Eventually, he pulled over in front of a break in the trees that opened into a clearing.
“We’re here.”
I blinked, stunned by what I saw. This place-
“Do you remember this?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.
How could I forget?
Our secret place.
The hidden waterfall and pool we’d discovered over a decade ago before he became Alpha, before I ever met Foster, before everything became complicated. It had been our sanctuary.
The waterfall still cascaded elegantly from the rocks above, crashing into the granite below and sending up a mist of cool droplets. The trees had grown taller than I remembered, but the patch of grass where we once laid out a picnic blanket was still there, lush and green.
“You remember…” I murmured, warmth blossoming painfully in my chest.
“I remember everything about this place,” Alexander said, his gaze soft, “Everything about you.
There was something in his voice that made my heart tighten.
Memories I had forced myself to bury came rushing back–us laughing here, dreaming aloud, making promises only the young and hopeful would believe in…
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand gently and leading me toward that familiar patch of grass.
He opened the trunk and pulled out a plenic basket, surprising me. Inside were fruits, sandwiches, chocolate, and a bottle of red wine. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, scattering mosale patterns across the grass, wrapping the moment in a golden warmth as if time had folded back on itself.
Alexander opened the wine and poured it into two crystal glasses. The deep red liquid sparkled like garnet under the sun. He
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Chapter 18
handed me a glass, and we gently clinked them together. The rich aroma of wine lingered in the air between us.
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“Try the sandwich,” he said, sliding the plate toward me with that familiar glint in his eye. “Do you remember your favorite combo? Ham, cheese, and cucumber.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I picked one up and took a bite. The taste was just right–perfect, the way I remembered it. He grabbed one too and, true to form, devoured half of it in a single bite. Some things never change.
We sat in a comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts. The sound of the waterfall created the perfect rhythm in the background. He peeled an orange and handed me a slice, the citrusy scent blooming gently between our fingers.
“Sum,” he said suddenly, using that old nickname only he ever dared to use, brushing a trace of wine from the corner of his mouth, “Do you remember the last time we were here?”
Of course I remembered.
It was the day before we went to the Moonlight Festival.
I sipped my wine, letting the warmth slide down my throat.
“I meant to tell you something that day…” His voice was low, edged with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. He tapped the rim of his glass with his index finger, then added, “I was going to…”
“Alex,” I interrupted gently, placing my half–eaten sandwich back on the plate, “That was a long time ago.‘
He looked at me, his gaze so intense I had to look away. I reached for a grape and popped it into my mouth, the sweetness
bursting across my tongue.
“Give me your hand,” he said softly, setting his glass aside. When I offered it, he placed something small and cool in my palm. A smooth, green–blue river stone–oddly shaped, but unmistakable.
“You kept this?” I whispered, recognizing it instantly. I had found it on my fourteenth birthday, the day I called it my ‘lucky stone.‘
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