Free Web NovelChapter 124: Chapter 124 Jealousy’s Shadow
Caesar’s POV
The kitchen was painfully quiet—except for Helena’s theatrical sighs punctuating every limp stab at her sad excuse for breakfast.
I barely touched my coffee.
My head wasn’t here—it was out there, with Sylvia. Who, for the second night in a row, hadn’t come home.
Helena let out another overacted groan. "Cae, seriously. Why don’t you cook anymore? This takeout tastes like regret and cardboard."
I didn’t even bother looking up. "Sylvia’s not here. I’m not in the mood."
Truth is, I never cooked breakfast for anyone else. Just Sylvia.
Without her scent in the house, the kitchen just felt... hollow. Pointless.
Helena pushed her plate away with a dramatic clatter. "You could still cook for me, you know. Like old times."
I finally glanced at her, deadpan. "Helena, I wouldn’t cook for you if we were the last two wolves alive and the Moon Goddess handed me a spatula personally."
Her smile faltered for half a second.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, already irritated by the tone—saccharine and manipulative, the same one she’d used since we were kids.
She blinked, feigning casual concern."I just think it’s strange, you know? Sylvia’s barely ever home. She’s always out, doing... something. Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious?"
That did it.
My wolf snapped to attention, a low growl curling in my throat before I could stop it.
I set down my mug—slowly—and turned to face her fully. freewebnovёl.ƈom
"You sure you wanna go there?" I asked, voice cold enough to frost glass.
Helena flinched, just barely, then tried to cover it with a giggle that landed like a broken violin. "What? I’m just saying—"
"No, you’re not. You’re baiting. And badly."
I leaned back in my chair, gave her a long, unblinking stare.
"I don’t comment on your dating life, do I? Or lack thereof. So maybe stay in your lane."
"Something wrong, Caesar?" she asked, all faux innocence, though her voice had a nervous edge now.
"Yeah," I replied, standing up and grabbing my plate. "You’re still talking."
I paused, eyes narrowing. "That’s my mate you’re dragging into your pity parade. Watch your mouth."
I took one last bite, set the plate down a little harder than necessary, and walked away.
"Clean this up when you’re done," I tossed over my shoulder.
Without waiting for her response, I turned and walked back to the bedroom—*our* bedroom, mine and Sylvia’s—though it had felt empty for days now.
Behind me, I could hear Helena’s frustrated huffs, her fork scraping against the plate with unnecessary force.
My enhanced hearing caught her muttered complaints, but I blocked them out.
The territorial part of my wolf was becoming increasingly agitated by Helena’s presence in our den.
In my office later that morning, the realization hit me like a physical blow.
Helena’s presence was the problem.
This was Sylvia’s home—*our* home—and having another female wolf here, especially one with our shared history, was a complication we didn’t need as newly mated pair.
I immediately reached for my phone to call William, Helena’s brother.
The call went straight to voicemail. I tried several more times with the same result.
Leaning back in my chair, I pieced together the events of recent weeks.
Everything had changed since Helena arrived.
The timing couldn’t be clearer.
Sylvia was jealous.The thought sent an unexpected thrill through me.
My wolf practically preened at the idea that our mate cared enough to be territorial.
If Helena was the cause of this rift, the solution was simple—she needed to go.
—
That evening, I waited in the guest room where Sylvia had been sleeping.
When she finally came home, flipping on the light with exhaustion evident in every movement, she froze upon seeing me sitting on the edge of the bed.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, wariness in her voice.
"Waiting for you." I rose to my full height, moving toward her slowly, like approaching a skittish wolf.
"Waiting for me?" She frowned, backing away instinctively as I advanced.
"Just to talk," I said, noting her retreat with growing unease. "Why are you backing away from me?"
Her eyes darted around the room, avoiding mine. "I’m not."
"You’re lying," I said, catching her wrist before she could step further away.
Her pulse raced under my thumb. "If you weren’t avoiding me, why are you stepping back right now?"
Her scent changed—anxiety mixed with something deeper, more primal.
"Let me go," she demanded, struggling against my hold. "I don’t owe you explanations."
I held firm, refusing to let her escape this conversation. "Is this about Helena? Is that why you’ve been angry with me?"
The laugh that burst from her was bitter and sharp. "So you actually noticed?"
Her eyes finally met mine, and damn—those eyes.
Lit up like a wildfire, burning with things she would rather die than say out loud.
Hope slammed into me like a freight train.
She was jealous. My girl was actually jealous.
"Sivi," I said softly, using the nickname that still made her breath hitch. "You’re serious?"
Her pulse jumped beneath my fingers, just for a second. Her scent shifted—warmer, sharper, all the things that drove me insane.
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you seriously asking if I’m jealous of your little Helena fan club? Why the hell would you care?"
Instead of answering, I pulled her against me with zero warning, zero apology.
She froze like she’d been short-circuited, but I could feel her—beneath all the fury and pride, her wolf was right there, reaching for mine.
Instead of answering, I pulled her against me, wrapping her in my arms before she could protest. Her body was stiff, but I could feel her wolf responding to mine beneath the surface. frёewebηovel.cѳm
"I need to hear you say it," I whispered against her hair, inhaling her scent desperately after days without it. "Tell me that’s why you’ve been avoiding me."
My wolf was practically howling with anticipation.
If jealousy was what had driven this wedge between us, I could fix it.
"Please, Sivi," I pressed, tightening my hold when she tried to pull away. "Just be honest with me."
