My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 557

Chapter 557: Chapter 557 FALLEN FROM GRACE (BONUS Chapter 4)

CELESTE’S POV

For all my appreciation of beautiful things, none of them had ever truly left me awestruck.

My jaw had never dropped over an expensive Birkin, and my heart had never raced for sexy Louboutins. I’d certainly never been speechless in the presence of dashing suitors.

But this person managed to spark every one of those reactions in me, and then some.

His hair was dirty blond, clipped close at the sides while the curls on top fell messily across his forehead. His nose was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken once and never quite set straight, and his eyes were a deep, earthy brown.

He wasn’t conventionally beautiful; the old Celeste might have dismissed him entirely. Yet there was something magnetic about his face that made it impossible to look away.

Maybe it was the furrow between his brows, the purse of his full lips, the spark of fury in his eyes softening into concern. The velvety smoothness of his voice when he spoke.

“Christ, you’re shivering.”

He unzipped his black hoodie without hesitation, shrugged it off, and crouched beside me, holding it open like a shield he meant to wrap around my shoulders.

That movement snapped me out of my stupor, and I scurried backward, hissing like a stray cat. “Don’t touch me!”

He froze, his hand and hoodie dangling between us.

I pushed myself to my feet—or I tried to, but my hands slid in the mud, and I landed hard on my ass.

The man reached out to me again. “Here, let me help—”

“I said, don’t fucking touch me!”

He recoiled like he’d been stung. He blinked at me once, twice, then stood and looked down at me expectantly.

This time, when I pushed myself up, I managed to stand upright.

“Here,” he said, still holding out the hoodie. “You should...” His gaze darted pointedly to my torso, which was still exposed.“...cover up.”

I grabbed the openings of my shirt and yanked them together, buttoning it with trembling fingers.

“Take the hoodie,” he urged. “You’re going to catch your death of a cold.”

“I’m f-fine.” I inwardly cursed myself and clamped my teeth to stop them from chattering.

He rolled his eyes, and his hand finally dropped, a hoodie sleeve hovering centimeters over a puddle.

“Are you okay?”

A jagged laugh ripped from my throat before I even registered my bitter amusement.

“Do I look okay?”

I looked like literal shit. My clothes and hair were drenched and caked with grime; my body throbbed from being slammed into the ground; my nerves still buzzed with leftover fear and adrenaline.

“Right. Stupid question. Do you need anything?”

I shook my head, wet hair slapping against my cheeks. “I don’t—”

Fuck, my bag and jacket.

I hugged my arms around myself and began walking back down the alley.

As I passed him, he turned, and suddenly warmth wrapped around me.

I stilled.

He’d draped his hoodie over my shoulders. It was ridiculously soft and warm and smelled like expensive detergent and woodsy, citrusy men’s cologne.

It took every ounce of self-respect not to hug it closer and inhale.

“Wouldn’t it absolutely suck if you survived those two dickbags only to succumb to pneumonia?”

I gave him a sidelong glance. He wore a henley underneath, the fabric hugging his muscled forearms in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

I tore my gaze away. “I’m not paying for your dry cleaning.”

“You know, most people would just say thank you.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and zipped it up, biting back a sigh at the delicious warmth. “I didn’t ask you for it.”

He fell into step beside me. “Okay, what about an apology?”

I scoffed. “An apology?”

He nodded. “I’ve always dreamed of having a soccer team of kids, but after your assault earlier, I might as well start researching adoption agencies.”

“Good,” I muttered, continuing to walk. “The human race doesn’t deserve to keep multiplying.”

He snorted. “So, what, you’re going to make it your mission to castrate every man you meet?”

“I’m not going to apologize for trying to protect myself.”

“You did an amazing job of that, by the way.”

There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice. I don’t think he was making fun of me.

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