Free Web NovelChapter 149: Chapter 149 Heart Flutter
Christina’s POV
I watched Hudson place a small box on my workbench, his movements careful as if handling a precious artifact. My heart skipped a beat when he revealed its contents - a tiny cake, just four inches across. Perfect for two.
The frosting was impeccably smooth, pure white like fresh snow with a single purple flower in the center. No sprinkles, no elaborate decorations. Just that solitary bloom, a shade deeper than amethyst.
A primrose - my birth flower.
"Happy birthday," he said again, his voice soft yet somehow filling the entire studio.
My heart pounded against my ribcage. How did he know? I’d never told anyone that detail about myself.
Memories crashed over me like waves. Every year on Beatrice’s birthday, my parents would prepare three-tiered cream cakes with pink frosting and glittering decorations. The living room would be festooned with streamers and balloons, relatives and friends gathered in a circle singing birthday songs while she wore her prettiest dress, smiling like a princess.
I’d always stand in the corner, pretending to read, pretending not to care. But I’d secretly count the days until my own birthday, hoping that maybe this year would be different. Maybe they’d make a cake for me too, maybe they’d sing.
They never did.
So I learned to say "I don’t like birthdays" and "I don’t need cake." Said it so often I almost believed it myself.
But now, here was a cake just for me. Not an extravagant three-tier confection, but mine. The primrose chosen for me, the candle lit for me.
That little girl who had longed to be seen, to be remembered, suddenly awakened within my chest.
"Thank you," I whispered, afraid my voice would crack and reveal the warmth suddenly flooding through me.
Hudson placed a single candle on top and lit it, then flashed me a smile that made my chest tighten.
Then he began to sing.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."
His voice was slightly rough, not quite on key, but he sang the entire song with complete sincerity. Just standing there, looking at me, singing for me alone.
"Make a wish," he said.
The flame flickered, casting orange-gold light across his face. Those sharp cheekbones, that strong jaw - illuminated in the gentle glow, Hudson looked almost otherworldly. The powerful Alpha of the Sabreridge pack, singing off-key in my small studio. For me.
I closed my eyes.
Even with them shut, I could feel his gaze on me. Warm and focused, as if wanting to imprint this moment in his memory. That feeling of being fully seen made my heart race even faster.
My mind went blank. Usually, I’d wish for career success or good health - safe, practical wishes. But now nothing came.
"What are you waiting for?" Akira whispered in my mind. "This is the most attention anyone has given your birthday in years."
My thoughts whirled in ten rapid circles before settling down.
Strangely, when I opened my eyes, I realized I’d made a wish involving the man standing before me.
I blew out the candle.
Smoke curled upward, slowly dissipating between us.
"You know," I looked up at him, my lips curving upward, "your birthday singing is really mediocre."
Hudson blinked, then burst into laughter. "Is that so? Well, I’ll have to see if you do any better when it’s my birthday."
His birthday?
My heart jumped. Being with him for his next birthday? That implied... we would have more time, more moments like this?
The thought both excited and terrified me.
"Happy birthday," Hudson said, his voice softer, more tender than before.
I echoed, "Happy birthday to me."
Heat surged through my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Not from the heating system. Definitely not the heating system. Something else was burning inside me.
"Cake?" he asked.
He swiped his finger through the frosting and gently smeared it on my cheek. His fingertip was warm, sending electric currents through my skin at the contact.
"Birthday girl," he teased, his voice playful but his eyes intensely focused on me.
My face instantly flushed. I blinked, then grabbed some cream from the side and quickly smeared it on his chin, trying to hide my flustered state.
He froze, clearly surprised by my counterattack, then erupted in hearty laughter.
I laughed too, though I could feel my smile trembling slightly.
"You’re playing with fire, Christina," Akira warned, though I could feel her amusement. "This Alpha isn’t used to being challenged."
"He started it," I thought back.
After a while, we sat down and actually ate the cake.
Hudson used a palette knife from my workbench to cut it.
The sponge cake was light, the cream thick and cool, melting slowly on my tongue.
Could use a bit more vanilla, maybe some lemon, I thought automatically, trying to distract myself from the man sitting across from me.
This was the best cake I’d ever eaten, bar none. But I knew that wasn’t entirely because of the cake itself.
First the personalized cake, then those spectacular fireworks, and now his gentle smile. In this moment, I felt something I’d never experienced before.
The feeling of being loved.
Not the taken-for-granted affection of family, not conditional attention, but pure, unconditional care. Someone had remembered my birthday and thoughtfully prepared all this.
That little girl who had always told herself "I don’t need this" finally got what she had always longed for.
Hudson began cleaning up the crumbs, focused and meticulous. I secretly observed his movements, his hands, the profile of his face when he lowered his eyelashes.
I leaned back in my chair, pretending to look through the glass at the street beyond him, while my peripheral vision remained fixed on him.
Outside, the wind had picked up.
People’s coats billowed behind them like sails.
Everyone was hurrying to somewhere, just like I usually did, always running, always chasing something.
Cars clogged the intersection at the traffic lights, horns blaring, red and white lights flashing on the wet asphalt.
Everything had returned to normal. The world outside was still the same world.
But something deep inside me had quietly changed.
The fireworks were gone, not even a wisp of smoke remaining.
I didn’t know how many people would remember them a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.
Probably none.
But I would. freewebnøvel.com
I would remember the exact shape of the lights. The taste of the cake. The temperature of that small dollop of cream on my face.
I would remember his focused expression as he lit the candle, the way he looked when he smiled.
I would forever remember the person who made all this happen. And the way he made my heart race.
