The Alpha's Unwanted Bride novel Chapter 695

Chapter 695: THE FIREFLIES AT NIGHT

The fireflies waited for her.

They hovered just beyond the edge of her room, like a living constellation, their glow waxing and waning in a rhythm that felt deliberate.

Jasmine stood frozen beside her bed, bare feet pressed into the cool stone floor, her nightdress brushing against her ankles.

Her heart beat so loudly she was certain it would give her away.

For a long moment, she did nothing but breathe slow, shallow breaths, one hand resting protectively over the curve of her belly.

This was madness.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind.

Rebels. Dangerous. Liars.

And yet here she was.

Sneaking like a thief in the night.

Jasmine swallowed, tightening her robe around herself.

The fireflies drifted closer to the door, their light spilling over the wood as if urging her on.

"I won’t be long," she whispered to her baby. "Just... stay quiet for me."

The door creaked softly as she eased it open.

She winced, pausing, listening.

Nothing.

No footsteps. No voices. Only the distant hush of wind through leaves and the faint sound of water somewhere far below the pack house.

She slipped into the corridor, closing the door with painstaking care until it latched without a sound.

The halls were dim at night, lit only by wall lanterns that cast long, warped shadows across the stone.

Jasmine hugged the wall, moving slowly, her steps measured. Every instinct screamed at her to turn back, to crawl into bed and pretend she had never seen the fireflies at all.

But her feet kept moving.

She passed servant corridors first, then the narrower hallways that led toward the outer wings of the pack house. The fireflies floated ahead of her, always just far enough to keep her following, never touching the ground.

At the first guard post, she stopped.

Two wolves stood near the archway that led outside, their armor dark, their spears resting casually against the stone. They were talking quietly, laughter low, relaxed.

Too relaxed.

Jasmine’s pulse skyrocketed.

She scanned the space desperately, eyes darting.

To her left, a heavy tapestry hung from the wall, depicting a battle scene with wolves and dragons locked together in ancient combat. The fabric was thick, layered.

She moved toward it, heart pounding, and slipped behind it just as one of the guards shifted his stance.

"Did you hear that?" one murmured.

Jasmine froze, every muscle locking.

The guard took a step closer, boots scraping softly against stone. She pressed herself flatter against the wall, one hand clamped over her mouth, terrified that her breathing would give her away.

A second passed.

Then another.

"Probably the wind," the other guard said with a shrug. "This place creaks like it’s alive."

They laughed quietly again.

Jasmine waited until their voices drifted away before she dared to move.

She eased out from behind the tapestry, legs trembling, and continued down the corridor, forcing herself not to run.

The fireflies led her through a narrow servant door and into the outer gardens.

Cold air hit her instantly.

The night was darker here, the sky clouded, moonlight filtering through the thick canopy of trees that surrounded the pack grounds. The gardens were vast and winding, hedges sculpted into spirals, fountains murmuring softly.

She crouched low, moving between bushes, the damp earth chilling her feet.

Somewhere nearby, a patrol passed by and shadows moving along the perimeter wall.

At the edge of the gardens, the fireflies dipped, slipping through a narrow opening in the stone wall that separated the pack house from the forest beyond.

Freedom.

And danger.

Jasmine waited, heart hammering, counting silently until the patrol disappeared.

Then she ran.

She slipped through the gap, scraping her arm on the stone, and stumbled into the forest beyond.

The trees closed in around her immediately.

The air smelled different here damp, wild, untamed.

Leaves crunched softly beneath her feet as she followed the fireflies deeper into the woods, branches brushing against her arms, her robe snagging on thorns.

Her breathing grew uneven.

Every sound felt amplified.

A snapped twig made her flinch violently. An owl’s call sent her pulse racing.

She kept going.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Her legs began to ache, her back burning with every step. She slowed, one hand braced against a tree trunk, trying to steady herself. The fireflies floated on, unbothered.

"Just a little longer," she whispered to herself.

Twenty minutes passed.

Then, without warning, the fireflies stopped.

They hovered in place for a heartbeat, then blinked out one by one, plunging the forest into darkness.

Jasmine halted abruptly.

Her chest tightened.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no..."

She turned in a slow circle, panic creeping up her spine.

The forest looked the same in every direction.

Tall trees. Thick underbrush. Shadows layered upon shadows.

She was lost.

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