Chapter 25

Dahlia.

"Where's Victoria?" my husband asked Billie mid-bite, completely ignoring my presence, as usual.

"She went to sleep," Billie replied.

Oh, so he can call her by her name, but I'm just "the human girl"? Envy simmered inside me like an overboiling pot. Billie excused herself, leaving me alone with Mr. Enigma. I watched him eat, my mind swirling with the bombshell Victoria had dropped earlier.

Could it really be true? No, it couldn't. I mean, surely guys like him—

"What's with the look? Are you checking me out, or are you just aroused?" He asked, his voice slicing through my internal chaos like a blunt knife.

My cheeks erupted into flames. I choked on my own embarrassment, quickly looking away as Billie conveniently reappeared.

I couldn't keep quiet anymore. The question was clawing at my sanity. I inhaled deeply, preparing for battle, and signed furiously.

Billie blinked at me, stunned. "Are you sure you want to ask him that?" she signed back.

I nodded with the conviction of someone about to make a terrible life choice.

"Say it from my perspective," I signed.

Billie sighed, clearly weighing the cost of her job, and turned to my husband.

He furrowed his brows, his sharp, broody gaze locking onto me. "Leave me alone with the human girl," he commanded. Billie, ever the loyal butler, bowed her head and disappeared faster than I thought possible.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. Does that satisfy your nosy little brain?"

I blinked, utterly stunned, but managed to nod slowly. Inside, though? Chaos.

I pulled out my phone, because some things deserve written words, and typed:

"So... do you do the bending?"

His glare could've frozen the sun. "Dahlia, mind your business!" he barked.

I smirked, unable to resist a cheeky grin, and casually got up from my seat. I strolled to my room, trying to suppress my laughter until I flopped onto my bed and stuffed my face into the pillow to giggle.

Now that I had the tea, I felt satisfied. Well, sort of. My curiosity wasn't fully quenched.

Victoria's words kept echoing in my head: "Raider is Rath's ex."

When she first signed it, I had to make her repeat it twice just to be sure I wasn't misreading. My husband, into guys? It was a plot twist worthy of its own soap opera.

But why did they break up? Was it because of me? The thought sent another wave of questions tumbling through my head. If this were a drama, I'd need a front-row seat—and popcorn.

As I strolled in from the garden, feeling like the proud parent of my little seedling army, I spotted a moving truck parked in the driveway. A stream of boxes was being carted into the house with Billie overseeing the chaos like a military general.

"What's going on?" I signed, frowning at the unexpected upheaval.

"We have a new roommate," Billie replied, her tone suspiciously casual.

A new roommate? My brow shot up. Who could it be? A relative? Another werewolf? Or, heaven forbid, someone who snores.

"You'll meet the guest in the evening," she added with a small smile before walking off to boss the movers around.

Curiosity gnawed at me like a persistent squirrel. Could this mysterious roommate finally be someone who could spill the tea on my husband? Rath barely speaks to me unless he's delivering a lecture or starting an argument. My curiosity about him was officially at an all-time high.

---

Dinner was its usual awkward affair. I sat at the table, watching Victoria and Rath chat like old pals while I poked at my blueberry ice cream. The way he laughed with her, his guard down, made me jealous. Why couldn't he talk to me like that? Instead, I was stuck as "the human wife" he barely tolerated.

Lost in my pity party, I didn't notice the chair beside me shift until I looked up and nearly dropped my spoon. Raider.

The new roommate was none other than Raider—my husband's ex. Oh, this was about to get juicy.

Raider smirked at me, a look that was equal parts mischief and smugness. My cheeks heated instantly. Great. Not only was he gorgeous, but he also clearly enjoyed catching me off guard.

As I sat there, stunned, one thought echoed in my mind: This is going to be messy.

But hey, at least I had a front-row seat to the drama—and maybe, just maybe, I'd finally unravel the mysteries of my husband and his oh-so-complicated past.

As I dried my hair and removed the bandage from my palm, a jolt of confusion ran through me. The deep gash I'd gotten from squeezing that glass had miraculously vanished, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. No scar, no pain, nothing. Normally, an injury like that would have stuck around for a week, but here I was, completely healed in less than three days.

No magic. No wolf traits. No explanation.

I hastily wrapped my hand in a fresh bandage and decided to play it cool for the next week. Suspiciously fast healing wasn't exactly a topic I wanted to bring up at dinner—especially not with Rath or Raider around.

---

Standing on the balcony later that night, I brushed my damp hair, enjoying the cool air under the crescent moon. The star beside it looked like a little dimple, winking down at me. If only I could hear the sounds of the night—frogs croaking, crickets chirping. I closed my eyes and imagined it, a faint smile on my lips.

I twirled a strand of hair between my fingers. The olive oil and rosemary water were working wonders. Maybe next, I'd try something fancy, like avocado masks.

When I turned around, I nearly dropped my brush.

Raider stood a few meters away, leaning casually against the doorframe. His golden hair glinted in the moonlight, tousled like he'd just stepped out of a magazine spread. His henley shirt hugged his frame, showing off broad shoulders and a chest that could probably crack walnuts. Those piercing blue-green eyes of his locked on mine, and for a moment, my thoughts turned into scrambled eggs.

This was my husband's ex. Of course, he had to look like a Norse god.

Breaking the silence, Raider raised his hands and began signing.

"Hey, cow. Can you spit on me?"

I blinked. Then I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach as the words replayed in my head.

His brows furrowed in confusion, and he tilted his head. "Did I say it right?"

"No," I signed, still giggling.

Pulling out my phone, I typed and showed him the translation: 'Hey cow, can you spit on me?'

His jaw dropped. "Oh no, oh no, I'm so sorry! I've only just started learning sign language. I didn't mean… Oh God." He clasped his hands together, mortified.

I couldn't help but smile at his effort. Typing quickly, I held up another message: But why are you learning?

Raider looked straight into my eyes, his expression softening. "So I can communicate with you properly. I want to learn your language, Dahlia. I want to be part of your world."

My chest tightened, and my eyes stung with tears. No one had ever said that to me before. Not my husband. Not anyone.

Raider noticed and stepped closer, gently brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "You sweet, beautiful girl," he murmured. "I'm sorry you haven't felt kindness from wolves. I'll do my best to change that."

For the first time in a long while, I felt seen. And somehow, standing there under the moonlight with Raider, it didn't feel so bad.