Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132

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Third Person’s PQV

“Fine! We’re leaving! Now!” Mortimer barked, pointing a finger at the passenger seat. “And get in the front. I’m not your damn chauffeur.”

Seraphina shrugged. She wasn’t going to waste oxygen on a seating chart, She walked around the hood, pulled the door open, and climbed in.

The drive back to the Blade pack estate was a masterclass in awkward tension. Mortimer sat behind the wheel, pouting like a child, throwing periodic, sideways glares at her.

Deep down, a pathetic, delusional part of him was waiting for it-waiting for Seraphina to break the silence with a soft word, a gentle touch, or any sign that she still cared enough to soothe him.

Just one sentence would have worked.

But the woman next to him was glued to her phone. She didn’t grant him a single glance.

Inside his mind, Barton felt the arctic chill of her indifference. The wolf let out a low, defeated whimper and tucked its tail.

Then, Seraphina’s phone started chattering.

Based on the rapid-fire rhythm, whoever was on the other end was thrilled to be talking to her.

And the worst part? Mortimer watched Seraphina’s lips curve into a genuine, effortless smile-the kind of smile he hadn’t seen in years.

To Mortimer, those notification pings were like a public execution. [1

She could laugh for some other man, but for him, she was a glacier?

His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles went bone-white.

“She’s still my mate,” he thought, his ego burning.

“The bond is still active. And she’s sitting here, five inches away from me, shamelessly flirting with some ‘nobody’ like I don’t even exist.”

Seraphina wasn’t even thinking about him. She was focused on Caldwell’s latest messages.

“You’re coming back to the States? When? I’m picking you up.”

After the nightmare in Alaska-where this man had kept her alive without a single piece of modern tech for two weeks-she owed him more than a ride.

“Before New Year’s? Will send you the flight info. You’re picking me up, and dinner is on you.”

“Sure. My treat.”

She was already mentally shopping for a gift that could express the weight of a life saved.

“It’s loud,” Mortimer snapped, his voice a low, jagged blade cutting through the silence. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that rapid-fire texting in a confined space is obnoxious?”

Seraphina looked at him, taking in the irritation etched into every line of his face. “Sorry,” she said flatly.

She reached out and flipped her phone to silent.

“Did I ask for an apology?” Mortimer countered, his voice dripping with venom.

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Chapter 122~

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He was like a wounded predator looking for a fight just to feel something other than rejection. He needed her to be angry. He needed her to be hurt, Anything but this hollow, polite distance.

Seraphina saw right through him.

He was looking for a hook, a reason to clash.

But she didn’t have the bandwidth for it.

“Then I don’t apologize. Just ignore it,” she said, giving him a dismissive ‘soft-kill’ of an answer.

Mortimer felt like he’d been punched in the gut with a velvet glove. The air he’d gathered for a shout died in his throat. He let out a dry, jagged laugh-a sound of pure, frustrated defeat.

“You’re unbelievable, Seraphina.”

The rest of the drive was suffocating.

The dark red glow of the dashboard lights hit Mortimer’s face, making him look like a monster waiting for a target that wouldn’t show up.

Thirty minutes later, the car screeched to a halt in front of the massive Blade manor-a sprawling fortress of stone and carved wolf-head totems.

The second the engine died, Seraphina was out.

She didn’t wait for him. She didn’t look back. She headed straight for the heavy oak doors.

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