Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 148

Chapter 148

+15 Bonus

Chapter 148

Third Person’s PQV

At a time like this, Seraphina didn’t have the energy to argue with Mortimer about who was going down into the pit.

Her entire universe had shrunk to one single goal: getting Dash out of there alive.

She threw all her dignity out the window, kneeling right in the mud by the edge of the drain and leaning half her body inside to get closer to the puppy.

Sensing the puppy’s sheer, life-threatening terror, Seraphina took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reached deep into her subconscious to wake her wolf.

A faint trace of her pheromones-the clean, crisp scent of oakmoss after a rain-drifted gently down into the tarrow, dark shaft.

It was like the puppy caught his owner’s scent on the wind. The tiny golden retriever, who had been curled into a shivering ball in the filthy water, felt that warm, protective energy, and the dying panic in his eyes finally started to melt away.

“Be a good boy, Dash. Don’t be scared. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay, baby.”

Down at the bottom of the storm drain, it was a total nightmare.

A suffocating wave of foul, toxic gas and sewage odor slammed right into Mortimer’s face.

The space was incredibly tight.

Standing at six-foot-three with a massive, muscular build, Mortimer couldn’t even stretch his limbs out properly.

The freezing, filthy wastewater instantly soaked through his clothes, burying his boots completely under the sludge.

Any other day, this was a man with extreme germaphobia-the supreme ruler who called all the shots in the Blade Pack. But right now, he didn’t even blink.

He hunched his back, inching closer and closer to the puppy trapped under the metal ladder.

Without even realizing it, he had completely shut down his aggressive, terrifying Alpha aura, hiding every trace of his power so he wouldn’t scare the little guy.

He held out a hand covered in thick combat calluses-a hand that usually only tore enemies apart-and very carefully, almost clumsily, patted the puppy’s soaked little head.

Then.

This untouchable, arrogant Alpha used the softest, most gentle tone he had ever used in his entire life, whispering a little promise to a one-month-old puppy. “Don’t be scared, Dash. I’m Mortimer… your brother-in-law is here. I’m taking you up right now.”

Up on the surface, Wilmot was leaning over the edge, waiting to pull them up. The exact second the words “brother-in-law” hit his ears, his entire body went rigidly still.

His brows twisted together, and his wolf ears actually twitched from the sheer, staggering absurdity of what he’d just heard.

He let out a dry crack of a smile, staring down at the massive silhouette in the pit like he was looking at a certified psycho.

WTF?

Seraphina was practically one step away from rejecting him in front of the Moon Goddess at the Pack Council, and this guy seriously had the balls to self-appoint himself as the dog’s brother-in-law?

Wilmot let out a dark sneer in the shadows.

1/3

hapter 146

+15 Bonus

He had met a lot of shameless bastards in his life, but Mortimer’s delusion was truly next-level.

He gritted his teeth, fully intending to shout some heavy sarcasm down into the well, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught Seraphina’s pale, anxiety-ridden face. He forced himself to swallow the insults.

Instead, he just glared at the Blade Pack Alpha down in the dirt, who was currently doing tricks and practically begging his mate for a scrap of affection. Wilmot started writing a petty script in his head.

Fine.

Keep acting, Mortimer. Go ahead and play the hero.

The second they got this tiny thing stabilized, Wilmot promised himself he would find a moment when Seraphina wasn’t looking, lean down, and tell this puppy the absolute truth: Hey kid, just thirty minutes ago, this exact guy who’s calling himself your ‘brother-in-law’ was smashing a marble table to pieces at a nightclub, spitting mad and calling you a cheap piece of trash who was sleeping with his wife.

Wilmot let out a cold huff, a wicked glimmer of amusement flashing in his eyes.

Whatever. His mating with Trista was already a burning dumpster fire anyway.

Tonight, nobody was allowed to be happy.

Trista, who had also heard Mortimer hand himself the title, didn’t hold back. She let out an aggressive, mocking laugh.

“Brother-in-law?”

“Who the hell are you?”

The guy sure knew how to manifest a promotion out of thin air.

Seraphina hadn’t even granted him a passing glance, yet he was already aggressively claiming a spot in the family tree.

The only person who didn’t hear a thing was Seraphina. Her entire soul was glued to that puppy.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify