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Chapter 1 THE MISTAKE

SERAPHINA'S POV

"Seraphina!"

I jolted awake in bed, hearing my name from the urgency in my mother's voice on the phone. Her voice trembled through the phone, sharp and brittle.

"Mom?" My throat was raw. She hadn't reached out in ten years—not unless it was the worst kind of news.

"Your father—" Her breath hitched, then broke. "He's been attacked."

My stomach clenched. Ice-cold fear gripped me.

"What?!"

"Oh, Sera, he's barely clinging to life!" my mother sobbed brokenly.

I immediately threw the covers off me and jumped out of bed.

"Send me the hospital address," I said in a shaky voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

I tried not to make too much noise as I rushed down the stairs so I wouldn't wake my son, Daniel. The light underneath my husband, Kieran's, office told me he was still up. As Alpha of the pack, he always had too much to handle.

And if I were honest with myself—too much resentment toward me.

A decade-old mistake had bound us together. A mistake he'd never forgiven.

So, I didn't plan to bother him.

By the time I slid into the driver's seat, tears streaked down my face.

My father had always been invincible. Unshakable. The giant of my heart, even if he'd never wanted me as his daughter.

Even if he'd hated me. But I never imagined he could be taken from me like this—

I slammed my foot on the accelerator.

When I reached the hospital, my mother and brother sat like shadows outside the operating room. My chest tightened. Would the giant really fall?

I hesitated. I couldn't bring myself to step closer. Not when their disgust had exiled me long ago. After that night ten years ago, they'd erased me. To the world, they had only one daughter now—Celeste.

Should I even be here?

It had been ten years since we last spoke. Even after Daniel was born, all communication with the family had gone through Kieran. My father had made it clear—he never wanted to see my face again.

Would he really want to see me now?

What if he didn't? What if his resentment hadn't faded?

I hesitated, my pulse pounding in my ears—until the sharp swish of the operating room doors cut through my thoughts. The doctor walked out, pulling gloves off his fingers.

"Doctor!" I rushed forward before I could stop myself, my voice shaking. "How is my father?"

The grim expression on his face said it all. "I'm sorry. We did all we could... but his injuries were far too severe."

I pressed a hand to my mouth, choking back the sob clawing up my throat.

"Is he... gone?" Ethan, my brother, barely glanced at me before addressing the doctor, his voice rough.

"Not yet." The man shook his head slowly. "But he won't last the night. He's been asking for his daughter."

I took an instinctive step forward—then froze.

His daughter.

It couldn't be me. After ten years of indifference and resentment, the daughter my dying father wanted to see would never be me.

Ethan's laugh was ice. "Ten years, and our family is still paying for your mistakes!"

I turned to face him, tears streaking my cheeks. A decade since I'd last stood this close—since he'd looked at me. Time had sharpened him into a true Alpha: broader shoulders, harder jaw, a dominance that rolled off him in waves.

But the hatred in his eyes?

That hadn't changed.

My heart gave a vicious twist, like claws raking flesh.

"Because of you," he snarled at me, "Celeste moved away. Because of you, she can't be here. Because of you, Dad will die with his last wish unfulfilled."

"Yes, it's all my fault." My laugh was bitter, weighted with decades of pain. "After all these years, I'm still the first one blamed. No one cares about the truth—or how I feel!"

Tears burst forth, my outburst freezing Ethan for a heartbeat. But just as quickly, his voice turned razor-sharp:

"Your feelings? You stole your sister's fiancé and dare to talk about feelings?"

My nails dug deep into my palms, reopening that ugly old scar.

Ten years ago, at the Blood Moon Hunt, I'd just turned twenty—the age when every werewolf finds their mate. After a lifetime of being overlooked, I'd been desperate for that bond.

As a child, I'd foolishly dreamed it might be Kieran. But then he fell for Celeste—perfect, radiant Celeste, the darling of the entire Frostbane Pack—and I learned my place soon enough.

What was I? The Alpha's defective daughter, the one who couldn't even shift. Nothing.

When even my own family and pack barely spared me a glance, how could Kieran possibly want me? I never expected to change anything. But that night, when I heard about his impending engagement to Celeste, the pain cut deeper than any claw. For the first time, I let myself drown in drink.

I expected to wake up forgotten in some dark corner. Never did I imagine I'd find myself naked in Kieran's bed.

The liquor had burned through my senses. That night remained a haze of fractured memories. Before I could piece together what happened, Celeste burst in—her shriek slicing through the air as she took in the scene.

Then came the chaos: Celeste's hysterical sobs, Kieran's guilt-ridden apologies, the pack's venomous whispers, my stammered explanations—all silenced by my father's resounding slap across my face.

"I regret ever bringing you into this world!"

The aftermath played out in muted horror. Kieran carrying Celeste's unconscious form to the infirmary. Ethan snarling at gawking packmates. My mother's muffled weeping. And Father's eyes—Gods—that look of pure revulsion. I'd always known he despised me, but never with such intensity it stole the breath from my lungs.

"I didn't..." My whisper died unheard. No one listened. No one.

Overnight, I became the pack's favorite sin to punish. Where they'd once mocked my defective shifting, now they spat "whore" like a benediction. Even low-ranking Omegas cornered me in shadowed corridors, their hands and insults alike too bold. Females crossed themselves when I passed, hissing "husband-thief" like a curse.

The weight of it crushed me. When Celeste's admirers left death threats carved into my door, I gathered what little I owned and fled under a new moon. I intended to vanish forever... until the morning sickness began. Until the physician announced my pregnancy to the entire Blood Council.

That was the only reason Kieran married me. He was an honorable man, an Alpha who would never desert his heir.

Yet it tore my family apart.

My parents and brother hated me for breaking Celeste's heart. Kieran's pack, NightFang, loathed me because I was not the Luna they wanted. And Celeste was so enraged, she moved abroad.

"You ruined everything!" Ethan's accusing voice cut through my thoughts. The venom in his glare cut deep. Undiluted after a decade.

Blood may have made us siblings, but Ethan had never once treated me as his sister. Celeste was the only sister he cherished. He loathed me for driving her away.

But was it truly all my fault? I may be weak and ordinary, but never so vile as to deliberately seduce my sister's lover. Yet they never cared. They just needed someone to blame.

"See this?" My hands trembled, but my voice hardened like winter frost. "My voice was never heard. My existence never mattered. So tell me, Mom—" I turned to face her, throat constricted. "If you never wanted me, why didn't you just smother me in my cradle? Why pretend I still mattered enough to call me here?"

"How dare you speak to Mom like that?!" Ethan roared, his canines lengthening. "Marrying Kieran didn't magically make you Luna material. That title was always meant for Celeste!"

"I never asked for any of this!" I snarled back, bitterness filling my tone. "I was ready to disappear. You could have let Celeste and Kieran have their perfect mating ceremony and pretended I never existed!"

Ethan's lips curled mockingly. "Don't play the martyr," he sneered. "You knew damn well Kieran would never abandon his pup—"

"Ethan!" Mother's command carried the faintest echo of her former Luna authority, though her scent now held only exhaustion and grief. "Enough. We will not waste your father's final moments on this old blood feud."

She couldn't even look at me as she said, "Go see your father." Her gaze darted away like the sight of me pained her. Ethan shot me one last venomous glare before slumping into a chair.

Steeling myself, I pushed open the door.

The fear nearly choked me—fear of seeing that familiar disappointment in his eyes one last time. But when I saw him lying there, the man I'd spent my life both fearing and longing to please...

Gone was the towering figure of my nightmares. The father who'd once seemed invincible now lay motionless, his chest swathed in bandages, his face ashen. The eyes that had always burned with contempt when they looked at me... now held nothing at all.

Tears streamed down my face. Why did this hurt so much?

This man—this giant who'd hated me from the moment I presented as a wolfless. Who'd looked at Celeste with pride and me with shame.

The memory of our last meeting still clawed at my heart.

There had been no wedding for Kieran and me. No celebration. Only my father's iron grip forcing my hand to scrawl my name on the marriage paper.

"Now you've gotten what you wanted," he'd snarled, his Alpha power choking the air between us. "From this day forward, you are no daughter of mine."

I'd never wept so violently—never begged so desperately. But all I earned was the frozen line of his back and his final, venomous curse:

"Your birth was a mistake, Seraphina. Dare to show your face again, and I swear you'll never know another moment of happiness."

He kept his promise.

His curse had poisoned every moment of my life, while my "honorable" husband turned our marriage into a gilded cage with his endless silence and contempt.

I should have hated them all—this family, this fate.

But when my father's fingers twitched weakly on the sheets, my traitorous heart lurched. Before I could think, I was at his side, clutching his ice-cold hand.

"Dad?" My voice trembled with something dangerously close to hope.

His pale lips parted slightly, as if struggling to form words.

But before he could speak—

BEEEP—!

The heart monitor screamed. The line on the screen flattened.

"NO!" The cry tore from my throat. He couldn't leave—not like this. Not before I saw forgiveness in his eyes. Not before we could unravel the knots binding our hearts.

The door burst open. Ethan and Mother shoved me aside, sending me crashing to the floor.

"He's gone..." Mother collapsed against Ethan, her body wracked with violent sobs. "My mate... my Alpha...!"

Ethan's grief choked him silently—until his gaze locked onto me. His wolf was on the surface, teeth bared. I didn't doubt for a second he'd rip my throat out. Until Mother caught his arm.

"You viper," he hissed. "Whatever scrap of happiness you've clung to—I'll rip it from you."

A hollow laugh echoed through my mind. Why were they all so obsessed with stealing my happiness? Something I'd never had.

The doctor entered, murmuring to my mother, "Luna, we must prepare Alpha Edward's remains."

I numbly walked into the hall, my soul scraped raw, tears falling unchecked. As the pack's elite arrived, none acknowledged me—just as it had always been.

But their indifference barely influenced me now. I stood numb before the chamber holding Father's body, still unable to grasp the truth that he would never open his eyes to us again—

Until Kieran's voice cut through the silence.

"My deepest condolences, Margaret." He took my mother's hands, every inch the dutiful son-in-law. "Rest assured, I'll assist Ethan with every arrangement."

Moonlight from the windows gilded his broad shoulders, the silver streaks at his temples only heightening the aura of a prime Alpha in his prime. Not a hair out of place despite the midnight summons.

The deadliest Alpha of the NightFang Pack. Just his presence was enough to control the air.

"Your presence comforts me, Kieran," Mother wept, clutching his arm.

When he embraced her, those piercing dark eyes found mine over her shoulder—then flicked away as if spotting a stain on the wall.

"What exactly happened?" he asked as he turned to Ethan. "How could Edward get attacked?"

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Routine border patrol. But the bastard rogues came in numbers we've never seen—armed with silver weapons." His throat worked as he fought for control. "It was an ambush. Father never stood a chance."

My mother's renewed sobs filled the corridor. Kieran gripped Ethan's shoulder—

"The rogues will pay for this," he vowed.

I hovered at the periphery, an outsider in my own family's tragedy.

The three of them—Mother, Ethan, and Kieran—stood united in their grief, an unbreakable circle I couldn't penetrate.

"I've sent for Celeste," Ethan added suddenly. "She should be arriving soon."

"Oh, my poor girl!" Mother wept into her hands. "To miss her father's final moments..."

My gaze flickered unbidden to Kieran's face.

Our eyes locked again.

His expression remained unreadable—arctic, assessing, utterly devoid of warmth.

Ten years sharing a bed, yet he still felt galaxies away. I'd never touched his heart.

And now, with Celeste's return, a terrible truth crushed my chest like an iron weight: I was about to lose my second family.

If my wolf lived within me, she would have whined low in her throat. I didn't know if I could survive the coming storm—but one thing burned brighter than fear:

No matter what arrived, no one would take my son from me.

No one.

Chapter 2 COLD AND EMPTY

SERAPHINA'S POV

The fragile silence was shattered as a piercing cry echoed down the sterile hallway.

"Papa! Where are you?"

Every head turned in unison. My stomach plummeted as Celeste came into view—her golden hair whipping behind her, cheeks flushed from running. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, but her beauty remained utterly breathtaking.

After ten years, my sister's sudden appearance struck me like a physical blow.

I almost instinctively turned to Kieran, whose mouth had fallen open, staring at Celeste like she was a dream he was scared to wake up from. The raw longing in his eyes was enough to answer the question that had haunted me for a decade: his heart had never been mine.

"Tell me I'm not too late," Celeste begged, her voice breaking. When no one answered immediately, her knees buckled.

Kieran moved faster than any werewolf had a right to. He caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her against his chest as my mother and brother descended into the huddle. Their tangled limbs and shared sobs painted the perfect family portrait—one I'd never been part of.

The thought clawed at my throat. I'd lost my father too. Didn't I deserve to mourn?

But this was Celeste's world. It always had been. From the moment she'd taken her first steps, everyone had watched her, admired her, loved her. As Celeste shone, I became a shadow.

And now, as her whimpers filled the room, I might as well have been invisible.

The exit beckoned. Better to leave with what little dignity remained than wait for their inevitable rejection.

Not a single head turned as I slipped away.

My tears had dried by the time I reached home, leaving salt tracks on my cheeks. But the hollow ache in my chest? That felt like it would linger forever.

My first stop was Daniel's room to check up on him.

I was surprised to see light under his door, and when I pushed it open, I found my nine-year-old curled into himself, knees drawn to his chest like a tiny fortress against the world.

"Mommy?" His voice was too small, too knowing.

I perched on the edge of his racecar bed. "Sweetheart, why are you up?"

He worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Something's wrong with Grandpa Edward, right?"

The air left my lungs. How did I tell this bright-eyed boy that the man who'd taught him to track deer just last summer was gone? I smoothed his pajama-covered knee. "Honey, there was... an incident tonight. Grandpa got hurt—"

"He died." Daniel's whisper held an eerie certainty. "Our bond... it broke."

My hand stilled. At nine, he shouldn't have been able to feel the pack bonds severing. Yet here he was, demonstrating the very wolf-sensitivity I'd spent his lifetime praying he'd inherit.

Relief warred with awe—he wouldn't be like me. Wouldn't bear the shame of being the Alpha's defective child, a werewolf whose wolf never manifested.

"Come here, my brave boy." I gathered him close, breathing in his scent of maple syrup and childish sweat. However much I regretted that disastrous Blood Moon Hunt, I'd never regret the miracle it gave me.

Daniel was the one pure thing in my life—the only heart that loved me without conditions.

As I tucked the spaceship-patterned blanket around his shoulders, he turned those soulful eyes on me—Kieran's eyes in miniature.

"You and Daddy will always be here, right?"

The question lanced through me. I feathered my fingers through his hair, just like I had when he was a baby fighting sleep. "Oh, my love..."

How could I explain that his father had never truly been mine to keep? That the way Kieran had looked at Celeste tonight—like the sun had risen after a decade of darkness—was a look he'd never once given me? That their embrace in the hospital corridor had been more intimate than any he and I had shared in ten years of marriage?

"Mommy's not going anywhere," I promised, pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. "Your daddy and I love you more than anything," I whispered. "Nothing will ever change that."

His sleepy smile gutted me. "Night, Mommy."

"Sweet dreams, my heart." I kissed his forehead, lingering a moment too long before slipping out.

The kitchen's fluorescent lights buzzed as I rummaged through the fridge. Glass bottles clinked—then froze mid-reach at the sound of the front door.

Kieran. Home already.

I'd expected him to stay all night at the hospital, comforting her. Reconnecting with her.

He moved through the darkened house like a shadow, his broad shoulders filling the kitchen doorway. Moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face as his gaze swept over me—empty. Always empty.

The refrigerator hummed between us as he reached past my shoulder. His cedar-and-rain scent enveloped me for one treacherous heartbeat before he withdrew, cracking open a water bottle.

"Did you... want something to eat?" My voice sounded too small in the silence. "You missed dinner."

Nothing. Just the working of his throat as he drank, the corded muscles flexing beneath stubble I'd never been allowed to touch. The crushed plastic hitting the recycling bin made me flinch.

He braced himself against the countertop, head bowed like Atlas bearing the world. I knew this dance by heart—ten years of speaking to a ghost.

"I'll just..." I edged toward the doorway.

"Seraphina."

My name in his mouth was always a shock. Like being doused in ice water.

I turned slowly. Moonlight carved hollows beneath his cheekbones, his expression unreadable as ever.

"We need to talk."

The quiet words sent a bolt of dread through me. His grip on the counter turned his knuckles bone-white.

No preamble. No softening. Just Kieran's brutal efficiency, as always.

"I want a divorce."

Ten years. Ten years I'd waited for this axe to fall.

Funny how it still cut like a surprise.

Chapter 3 ALL I WANT

SERAPHINA'S POV

The words shouldn't have hurt—not after a decade of waiting for this moment. Yet they sliced through me like silver, the pain radiating from my shattered heart to every nerve ending.

I'd always known that Kieran would eventually ask for this. Especially now. Celeste. His first crush. His real love. Back.

It didn't matter that I'd loved him since we were children, long before Celeste ever noticed him. It didn't matter that I'd given him a son. The moment she returned, I became invisible—just as I'd always been in his eyes.

Celeste was the dazzling diamond, blinding everyone to the plain pebble at her feet. I knew this. So why did it still feel like my soul was being ripped in two?

"It's because of Celeste, isn't it?" My voice was eerily calm. I already knew the answer, but some masochistic part of me needed to hear him say it. Needed him to twist the knife deeper.

Kieran's eyes flashed—the first real emotion he'd shown me in years. "No," he snapped, jaw clenched. "Of course not."

Liar.

He dragged a hand through his dark brown hair, exhaling sharply. "Edward's death just... reminded me life's too short to waste on a mistake."

A mistake.

I would have preferred the knife. Would have rather he screamed Celeste's name than reduce our marriage—our son—to a regret.

I couldn't help but laugh out.

The sound was jagged, hysterical, tearing from my throat as Kieran stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had.

I laughed because the alternative was screaming.

My gaze traced the lines of this man I knew yet didn't know at all, this stranger I'd loved for eighteen years who had never truly seen me.

Who was more pitiable—him or me?

He loved Celeste, yet honor and a single mistake had chained him to a marriage he never wanted. What had these ten years given us? If not for that night, if we hadn't been forced into this loveless union, would his eyes have held even a flicker of warmth for me?

We were never meant to be like this.

Even though I could never regret Daniel, I'd meant it that night—I'd been ready to vanish. I should have run farther. Should never have stepped into that clinic, never let them know about the pregnancy.

I'd told myself staying, enduring, was for Daniel's sake. But now, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. What kind of life had I given him, with parents whose hearts were oceans apart? While Celeste was gone, Kieran had played the part of a dutiful father. But now she was back, and the fragile facade of our marriage would shatter.

I won't let my son watch his mother become a laughingstock.

"Fine," I said at last, the laughter dying on my lips.

Kieran's brows lifted. Had he expected tears? Begging? Had he wanted to see me break?

Too bad.

My entire life, people had hungered for my surrender. But I refused to give them another ounce of my pain.

When I walked away from this marriage, I would take only two things:

My dignity.

And my son.

"I want full custody of Daniel."

His shock morphed into fury. "The hell you will! He's my son!"

"And mine!" I snarled back.

"You can't take the pack's heir from his Alpha!" Kieran's voice shook with barely leashed rage.

"And you can't take a mother's heart from her chest!" My hands trembled, but my voice didn't waver. "I don't want your money. Your property. Anything. Just my son."

Daniel was my only light in this wretched world. If Kieran took him from me...

I wouldn't survive it.

"And most importantly... You and Celeste will have new children."

The words stole the breath from my lungs. Just the thought of it—of her giving him the pups I never could—made my chest ache like a fresh wound. But for Daniel, I would endure anything. Even this.

I watched Kieran closely, his expression unreadable in the dim kitchen light. Finally, he gave a single stiff nod.

"Fine. You can have full custody."

The catch. He agreed so easily.

Not a single denial. Not one word to contradict what I'd said about him and Celeste. He still preferred a family with her, didn't he?

And the most pathetic part? Some foolish, desperate corner of my heart had still hoped. Still waited for him to say something—anything—to prove our marriage hadn't been just a prison sentence to him.

I pressed my palms to my stinging eyes. Gods, what was wrong with me?

I couldn't afford to hope anymore. Not tonight. If I didn't leave here soon, I'd collapse right here on the cold tiles—

Then Kieran caught my wrist.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, his grip warm against my skin. "We can wait until after the funeral to finalize everything, if you prefer."

For one dangerous moment, I almost believed him. Almost thought this was kindness.

If only he'd shown me this consideration once in ten years.

I wrenched my arm free. "No need to delay. It's not like there's much to dissolve—you never even gave me a mating mark."

The one thing he'd refused when we married. That, and loving me.

"Your wolf never came," he'd said that night we got married, his voice carefully blank. "A mating bond would only cause you pain when..."

When we inevitably divorced.

He hadn't finished the sentence, but we both knew. Just like we both knew the real reason—the mark belonged to Celeste in his mind. Always had.

The bitter truth settled in my chest: he'd planned for this ending from the very beginning.

What difference did it make now? Whether it was pity or premeditation, the result was the same—my neck remained unmarked, my heart remained broken, and Kieran would walk away free.

Kieran's brow furrowed deeper.

"Seraphina, there's no need for bitterness. Our marriage was a mistake—I only hope we can both move on." His voice softened, that hint of pity making my stomach churn. "You deserve—"

"Oh, spare me." I turned away before he could see how his pity cut me deeper than his anger ever could. "Don't worry—I've saved enough to support myself and Daniel. You'll be free by tomorrow."

The shock on his face was almost comical. Had he truly expected me to fight for him? To beg?

Yes, I loved him. I still do.

But ten years of trying to thaw his heart had taught me this: no amount of warmth could melt a glacier that didn't want to be moved.

And now that Celeste was back? Did he think I'd delude myself into believing I ever stood a chance?

Why crush what's left of my pride just to feed an Alpha's ego?

I'd learned my lesson. A decade in this loveless marriage had been enough. I was done fighting for people who never wanted me.

My steps were numb as I climbed the stairs, memories of Kieran flashing like ghosts behind my eyes:

*The bright smile he'd given me when we first met as children.

*Me watching from the shadows when he won his first Hunt.

*The way my heart shattered as he placed the victory garland on Celeste's head, her lips meeting his in a sweet kiss.

*The blur of liquor glasses when their engagement was announced.

*That catastrophic night that started it all.

*Then—Daniel's birth, his first steps, every milestone since...

Halfway up the staircase, Daniel's sleepy voice echoed in my mind:

"You and Dad will always be here, right?"

My heart lurched. Gods. How do we tell him?

I whirled around, my earlier resolve cracking. "How... how do we explain this to Daniel?"

Kieran paused mid-sip of water. "I'll handle it."

Of course. He's already planned for this, too. My fists clenched.

"And you needn't worry about finances," he added stiffly. "Daniel is still my son. I'll cover his expenses—and yours."

I couldn't read his expression. After ten years, the view I knew best was still his poker face. But this time, I refused to waste energy deciphering him.

Tomorrow, once the papers were signed, we'd be strangers. As he wished.

I turned without answering.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind me—then the dam broke.

Silent sobs wracked my body as I slid to the floor, the day's grief finally overwhelming me. Somewhere downstairs, the floorboards creaked.

Kieran was probably already packing. Probably already picturing Celeste in this house, raising my son.

My hand flew to my unmarked throat—where his teeth should have been. Where a mating bond should have sealed us together.

"It's okay, Sera," I whispered into the hollow dark, arms wrapped tight around my shaking ribs. "You'll survive this."

For my son—I'll survive anything.

Chapter 4 WHERE'S THE FIRE?

SERAPHINA'S POV

I returned from the lawyer's office feeling like my soul had been put through a shredder.

Walking through the front door gave me a strange kind of anxiety. Maybe it was because I knew this was one of the last times I would be here again.

I let my gaze roam the foyer, taking in every detail—Daniel's baby picture on the mantel, the portrait taken of Kieran when he was ordained Alpha, the picture of Daniel and me on his fifth birthday.

There were no pictures of Kieran and me. Shocker.

I headed straight for Kieran's study. I had left early that morning, desperate to avoid him, to spare myself a repeat of last night's devastation. I'd also been avoiding Daniel, I think.

How could I look into those innocent eyes and explain that his family was breaking apart?

My hand paused mid-knock when I saw Daniel itting in a chair in front of Kieran's desk like a visitor. Of course. Alpha Kieran, ever efficient. Last night he'd said he would explain our divorce to Daniel himself, and he'd wasted no time.

My heart lodged itself in my throat. I'd missed the conversation, but I would never miss the sight of my son turning to me, his eyes swimming with unshed tears.

"Is it true, Mom?" His voice was small, breaking on the last word. "You and Dad… you're getting divorced?"

He was fighting bravely to keep the tears at bay, but the tremor in his words betrayed him. It shattered something deep inside me, leaving me feeling like the worst kind of criminal. He wasn't even ten. How could we force this cruelty upon him?

Yet another part of me, a colder, more logical part, whispered a painful truth: Was it better to let him live a lie? To grow up in a home where his parents felt nothing but emptiness for each other? And what happens when Celeste inevitably walks back into Kieran's life? How would I explain that then?

"Daniel…" My voice cracked before I could form a complete sentence. All the resolve I'd built on the drive home crumbled to dust.

Then, Kieran spoke. His tone was calm, infuriatingly final. "Daniel, this is a decision between adults."

"So I just get told, is that it?" Daniel's small hands clenched into fists on his knees. "Grandpa Edward is barely gone, and now you're doing this. Did anyone think about me?"

The raw anger in his voice was a physical blow to my chest. But Kieran remained unmoved, his Alpha aura subtly thickening the air.

"Son, sometimes things just happen. Learning to accept difficult realities is part of becoming strong. It's a necessary lesson for a future Alpha."

It was the voice of the Alpha, not just the father. And for the first time, Daniel didn't submit.

He swiped angrily at his eyes, shoved himself out of the chair, and glared at both of us. "Fine! Do whatever you want!"

He bolted from the room before I could stop him. I reached out, a desperate attempt to pull him into an embrace, to soothe the hurt, but he dodged my touch with a furious shake of his head. The rejection was a fresh wound, deeper than any Kieran had ever inflicted.

Kieran's eyes flicked toward the hallway. "Gavin," he called, his voice low. His loyal Beta appeared instantly at the door. "Ensure Daniel doesn't leave the grounds. Give him space, but watch him."

Gavin nodded silently and disappeared. Kieran then turned his focus back to me, the stern Alpha mask still firmly in place, though a flicker of something else—impatience? weariness?—haunted his dark eyes.

"So much for explaining it to him gently," I said, my voice thick with accusation I could no longer contain.

"He'll understand," Kieran replied, his voice cool. "He just needs time to process it."

His gaze dropped, landing on the legal folder I was clutching so tightly my knuckles had turned white. A faint, unreadable emotion passed over his handsome, usually impassive face.

"I assume those are the papers?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous.

"My lawyer drafted the agreement, stating the custody terms." I moved forward and placed the document on the desk. "Everything's clearly outlined—visitation schedules, holidays, education decisions..."

Kieran opened the folder and pulled out the documents. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his eyes darted over the pages.

"Um, I also met with a realtor she suggested," I continued, clasping my hands before me. "She showed me a lovely house about thirty minutes from here. It's fully furnished—ready to move in—and the mortgage is very reasonable. It's in neutral territory, so you can visit anyt—"

"Where's the fire?"

I paused, frowning at Kieran. "What?"

"I'm the one who asked for a divorce." He dropped the papers on the desk with a scoff."Yet here you are with moving plans and legal documents before the ink's even dry. Were you counting down the days?"

The truth burned my tongue—yes, every single one of the 3,600 days we'd been married. But admitting it would only give him more ammunition. I had just seen how Kieran handled Daniel's pain. My son's raw, betrayed face flashed before my eyes. I couldn't risk him being raised under Kieran's cold 'Alpha lessons,' or worse, under Celeste's future influence. Full custody was my only sanctuary.

Kieran sneered at my silence, leaning back in his chair. "Leave the address for your new… house," he said, the word dripping with disdain. "I'll be tied up today. My son and I will have dinner, then I'll send him your way, along with your signed copy of the papers."

The finality in his voice extinguished my hope of one last family meal. Of course, the great Alpha Kieran wouldn't deign to break bread with his soon-to-be ex-wife.

I left Kieran's office, the hole in my chest yawning further. I hadn't been able to sleep last night after the news, so I'd used that time to pack all my belongings.

I'd never been given a proper chance to make this place my home, so everything I owned fit into two suitcases.

After loading my car with it, instead of driving away, I just sat in the driver's seat.

I stared up at the house before me, recalling all my memories. The ones I'd made with Daniel were bright and colorful, filled with love and laughter. But the memories of Kieran were grey, dull, and empty. Every stilted conversation, every withheld touch, every smile he saved for someone else.

The shrill ringtone shattered my reverie. My mother's name flashing on the screen sent ice through my veins. Two calls in as many days after a decade of silence? The universe clearly had jokes.

"Hi, Mom." I forced cheer into my voice. "How are you holding up?"

She bypassed pleasantries like always. "Is it true?"

My fingers tightened around the phone. "Is what true?"

"That you're finally divorcing Kieran."

The breath left my lungs. Of course she knew. Kieran had probably called Celeste last night.

"Yes," I ground out between clenched teeth.

The sound of my mother's relieved sigh cut deeper than any blade. Actual, gods-damned relief.

"It's for the best," she said. "The marriage was a mistake to begin with. This... this is the correction we've all been waiting for."

My mouth fell open. A single, betrayed tear slipped free. What kind of mother celebrates her daughter's heartbreak? The answer came swiftly and bitterly—the kind who always wanted her other daughter to win.

I hung up without another word and powered off my phone before she could twist the knife further.

I don't know how long I sat there, watching the shadows lengthen across the manicured lawn until the dying sun painted the front door orange. Then Daniel emerged. He looked calmer, though his eyes were still puffy.

Kieran walked out after him, shouldering a large duffle bag. I frowned. No way that was all Daniel's things. Kieran was making a point—it didn't matter that we moved, Daniel's home was still here.

When Daniel saw me waiting, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face before settling into a small, tentative smile. I got out of the car. He ran to me, and I pulled him into a fierce hug. Goddess, it felt good to hold him again.

"I said I'd bring him over," Kieran snapped, coming closer.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted—"

"Is this how it's going to be?" he cut me off. "Your neat lines and separate territories already blurring? Do you even know what you want?"

Daniel's small hand tugged at Kieran's sleeve. "Dad… stop." His voice was soft but held a surprising firmness. "You promised. And it's Grandpa's funeral this Saturday. We'll see you then."

Kieran's jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone. For a heartbeat, I thought he might argue—but then he exhaled sharply and ruffled Daniel's hair.

"Yeah. See you then, champ." His gaze flicked to me, cold and dismissive. "Be good for your mother."

He handed the duffle bag to me and went back inside without another word.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and loaded the bag in silence. Daniel climbed into the passenger seat without complaint, his too-wise eyes watching me carefully. As I pulled away, I forced myself not to look back—not at the house, not at the life I'd failed to make work.

Two minutes into the drive, Daniel rummaged through his backpack and produced a slightly squashed sandwich.

"You didn't eat dinner," he said simply, pressing it into my hand.

The tears I'd been trying so hard to hold in spilled out.

"Daniel..." My voice cracked. "Do you hate me? For this? For taking you away from your dad?"

He considered it with a solemnity no nine-year-old should possess. My heart stalled, braced for the blow—

"No." He fiddled with his seatbelt. "I know you were sad a lot. Maybe now you can be happy."

A sob tore free. The road blurred. His small hand slipped into mine, squeezing tight.

"Don't cry, Mom." His whisper was fierce with promise. "You've got me. I'll make you happy."

I brought his knuckles to my lips, tasting salt and hope. So what if Kieran never loved me? This remarkable boy did—wholeheartedly, unconditionally—and in that moment, it was enough.

More than enough.

Chapter 5 THE UNINVITED GUEST

SERAPHINA'S POV

Another sleepless night.

The irony wasn't lost on me—I hadn't shared a bed with Kieran in years, yet the unfamiliar silence of this new house felt louder than any absence. Every time I closed my eyes, the ghosts of what might have been danced behind my lids.

Three times I'd crept down the hall to check on Daniel, only to find him curled peacefully under his Star Wars comforter, his breathing deep and even. Thank the moon for small mercies. This modest house might lack the imposing security of the Alpha Manor, but I'd fill every inch with enough love to compensate.

When dawn's pale fingers finally pried through my blackout curtains, a lead weight settled in my stomach.

Today we'd bury my father.

I dressed slowly, each movement weighted with dread. It wasn't grief that paralyzed me—our relationship had died long before his heart stopped beating. No, it was the prospect of facing my family's judgmental stares, of standing across a coffin from Kieran while our divorce papers gathered fresh ink.

Ex-husband. The term scraped against my raw nerves.

Daniel's door creaked as I pushed it open. My breath caught—there he sat, already dressed in the miniature black suit we'd picked out together, his small fingers deftly maneuvering his Nintendo Switch.

"Morning, Mom." He flashed me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Tears pricked my lashes. Where had my baby gone? The boy staring back at me wore Kieran's strong jawline, his piercing gaze. A living reminder of everything I'd lost—and everything I'd gained.

"Look at you," I whispered, smoothing his lapel. "All grown up."

Sadness shadowed his face, but he steeled himself and put the video game console aside. "Let's go," he whispered, shoulders squaring with forced bravery.

But when the old stone church loomed into view, Daniel's courage faltered. His knuckles whitened around the car door handle.

"Hey." I cupped his tense shoulder. "Talk to me."

When he turned, the unshed tears in his eyes shattered me. "We didn't... we didn't get to say goodbye. Does that mean Grandpa doesn't know we loved him?"

The question hit like a silver dagger between my ribs. While my father's absence had become my normal, Daniel had lost his favorite storytelling partner, his secret cookie supplier.

I pressed my palm over his thundering heart. "Grandpa's right here, my love." My voice cracked. "And here." I tapped his temple gently. "As long as we remember him, he's never really gone."

Daniel exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving his small frame. "Okay."

"Ready?"

His nod was all the strength I needed. Together, we stepped out of the car.

The church doors swallowed us into a sea of mourners—pack members in their finest black, allies from neighboring territories, and a scattering of human associates who'd done business with my father. The air hummed with whispered condolences and the cloying scent of lilies.

My family sat like royalty in the front pew. My mother's head rested against Ethan's shoulder, while Celeste—

Gods.

Even in grief, my sister looked like she'd stepped from a magazine spread. Sunlight through stained glass windows gilded her perfect blonde waves, her designer dress clinging to curves that had always made my own frame feel boyish in comparison.

"Daniel, darling!" My mother's arms opened wide as we approached—not for me, never for me—but for the grandson who carried the Blackthorne name. The grandson who mattered.

I watched numbly as Daniel was enfolded in her embrace, his small frame disappearing against her black lace. That left only one vacant seat—sandwiched between Celeste and the end of the pew.

My sister's glacial blue eyes raked over me. A decade apart, yet her hatred hadn't dimmed. She inched away as I sat, the silk of her dress whispering against the pew like a snake's warning.

Trying to force my thoughts away from the family who didn't want me, I let my gaze wander round the hall—and land on another family that didn't want me. The Blackthornes occupied the opposite side of the aisle, Kieran's broad shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette beside his parents.

Leona Blackthorne's lips pursed when she noticed me looking. Like my family rejected me, the Blackthornes refused to accept me. To them, I was Kieran's legal wife, not his Luna.

His mother, Leona, still held the title of Luna even after the Alpha title was passed to Kieran. Now, she regarded me icily. I'm sure she was ecstatic over the divorce news. The stain on her family was finally gone.

A small, warm hand slipped into mine. Daniel had extricated himself from my mother's clutches and now formed a living barrier between me and Celeste. His fingers squeezed mine—a silent I'm here.

I squeezed back, drawing strength from this remarkable child who shouldn't have needed to be the brave one. The organ's mournful chords signaled the service's start. Just a few more hours. I could hold myself together that long. Couldn't I?

***

The day had been a blur of somber rituals and stifling formalities. After ensuring Daniel was settled with his grandparents for the evening, I'd rushed to the post-funeral gathering—a "Celebration of Life" reception at the Lockwood Hotel.

Stepping into the grand hall was like entering another world. The heavy silence of the day had been replaced by the low hum of conversation and the clink of crystal. Laughter, albeit subdued, punctuated the air.

The shift was disorienting. I hadn't attended a function like this in a decade. Ten years ago, I was merely Celeste's shadow. In the ten years since, Kieran had never taken me to a single public pack event.

Familiar faces swam in the crowd, but they were outnumbered by strangers. I had never been part of the inner social circles of either the Lockwoods or the Blackthornes. I kept to the edges, a ghost in my own father's house, trying to navigate towards the family section. And then I saw it.

Across the room, Celeste stood, radiant in a slate-gray gown that complemented Kieran's dark suit perfectly. Her hand was tucked possessively in the crook of his arm, her head tilted towards his shoulder in a gesture of intimate familiarity, as if she were his rightful Luna.

My mother stood nearby, beaming as she spoke to an elderly Alpha from a neighboring pack, undoubtedly introducing them as her proud daughter and future son-in-law.

The irony was a live wire against my frayed nerves, but I knew I had forfeited any right to object. If I'd ever had one.

"See? That's how it was always meant to be."

The voice, sharp with malice, came from my side. Abby, Celeste's friend from our youth, appeared like a viper. Her smile was all teeth.

"You stole what was hers. If not for you, this scene would have been at their wedding a decade ago, not a funeral. Don't get any ideas about crawling back. I'll be watching you for her."

Her words were poison-tipped darts, but my pride, brittle as it was, wouldn't let me crumble. "I'm here for my father. Not for anyone else."

"Playing the devoted daughter now?" Abby gave a tinkling, humorless laugh. "If you were any kind of daughter, you wouldn't have driven your own sister away for ten years. She missed her chance to say goodbye because of you."

It was a direct hit, twisting the knife of guilt that had been buried in my heart since the hospital. I knew, with a certainty that hollowed me out, that the daughter my father had truly wanted at his bedside wasn't me.

"Some people should know their place and slink back to their little rental," Abby hissed, leaning in.

I opened my mouth to retort, but she subtly, deliberately, shifted her weight and shoved her hip against mine. The motion was disguised but effective. I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the rug, and collided with a serving table laden with champagne flutes.

Time slowed. The crash of glass was deafening in the conversational lull. Shards glittered like cruel diamonds on the marble floor, champagne pooling around my ruined shoes. A wave of horrified silence washed over the section of the room, followed by a crescendo of whispers.

"Seraphina!"

My mother's voice cut through the noise, sharp with a disgust that stung more than the broken glass. Ethan was at her side, his eyes blazing with suppressed fury. "Must you always create a spectacle? Even today?"

My gaze, humiliated and desperate, flew across the room to Kieran. His brow was furrowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw. But before he could speak or move, Celeste was already gliding forward, a vision of concerned grace amidst the chaos.

She reached me, her expression a masterpiece of sympathetic distress. "Oh, Sera, you're soaked. Let me help you." She raised her voice slightly, a gentle command to the onlookers. "It's just a little accident. Nothing to see. Please, enjoy the evening." Then, her hand closed around my wrist with surprising firmness. "I'll take her to get cleaned up."

I had to admire Celeste—her timing was always impeccable.

She steered me away from the staring crowd, down a familiar hallway to a small, opulent sitting room often used for private conversations. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, the compassionate mask melted away.

The serene concern vanished from her face, replaced by a cold, glacial calm. She released my wrist as if it were contaminated.

"Still making a mess of everything, I see," she said, her voice soft but devoid of all warmth."Well, this does simplify things."

The cloying scent of her jasmine perfume enveloped me as she closed the distance. "Ten years, sister," she hissed. "Ten years you played house with my life. But I'm reclaiming what's mine—my family, my position..." Her breath warmed my ear. "My Kieran."

"And this time, you're going to lose everything."

If this weren't my father's memorial, I might have laughed.

The absurdity—Celeste had always owned them all. Their love, their loyalty, Kieran's heart—none of it had ever truly been mine to lose.

I met her icy gaze, keeping my voice as steady as I could, refusing to let the bitterness seep through. "It seems you haven't changed either, Celeste. The one who got everything, yet somehow always the victim."

A flicker of raw anger, primal and satisfying, flashed across her perfect features. Bullseye.

"It took me a decade to accept my part in what happened. But you weren't innocent, Celeste. I offered to run, to do anything to stop the wedding, to leave Kieran for you. I even begged you. But you did nothing!"

"You're lying!" she snapped, but the denial came too quickly, the faint flush creeping up her neck betraying her. The old wound still festered. "You threatened me! You wanted to make me look like the villain!"

I let out a short, humorless laugh, taking a step closer. "Is that what it was? Your perfect image came first? So you ran across an ocean rather than fight for the 'great love' you supposedly shared?"

Her breath hitched, thrown by the direct hit. For a long moment, she just stared. Then she took a deep breath, her expression settling into one of cold, triumphant pity. "You've gotten better at twisting the truth in ten years. I had to leave because I was heartbroken. And, most importantly, because everyone chose to believe my heartbreak over your… circumstances."

The air left my lungs in a quiet rush.

A slow, cruel smile curved her lips. "But I can understand. How else could you have made yourself feel better about these ten years, if not by telling yourself a few lies?"

My fists clenched at my sides, the urge to wipe that smug look off her face almost overwhelming.

"Admit it, Sera. You weren't enough. I heard Father cut off your funds. Mother and Ethan froze you out. But you know what? Even from overseas, I never lost my place. Every major holiday, they flew to see me…"

"See, I gave you ten years, Sera. And you still couldn't earn their love. If anything, they love me more."

My heart twisted, the old abandonment wound ripped wide open anew. And my own sister reveled in it.

"And Kieran? He kept sending Christmas gifts every single year. Even when I never wrote back, he never missed one. Did you really think you could ever win against that?"

I fought to keep the tears from showing, to keep my voice from trembling. "I don't care anymore, Celeste. Kieran and I are divorced. I won't give you another chance to stand on my dignity."

"Let's hope our paths don't cross again."

I didn't wait for a response. I turned, pulled the door open, and strode back down the hallway, past the murmuring guests, out of the grand hall that had never been my home, away from the people who had never been my family. The weight of their stares was a physical pressure on my back, but I refused to look back. I never should have come.

All I wanted now was my son. To collect Daniel from his grandparents, go back to our little house, and start building the quiet, honest life we deserved.

But the tears I'd held back all day finally broke free the moment I was alone in the car. They weren't gentle; they were a torrent, blurring the stately drive of the Lockwood Hotel into a watery smear of green and gray. Sobs shook my shoulders, making it hard to breathe, hard to see. I was crying for the father I'd never truly had, for the mother who despised me, for the love that had always been a lie.

I was driving too fast for the winding, tree-lined road, blinded by grief and rage and a desperate need to escape. The headlights cut a shaky path through the deepening twilight.

That's why I didn't see it until it was too late.

One moment, the road was empty. The next, a massive, dark shape erupted from the dense undergrowth to my right. It wasn't a deer. It moved on two legs, then four—a terrifying, loping gait that covered the distance in a heartbeat.

A rogue.

Chapter 6 ICY REGARD

SERAPHINA'S POV

Waking in the hospital, the memory of the attack clung to me like a second skin—the metallic taste of fear, the crushing pressure of imminent death.

I'd been on the quiet back road between the Lockwood estate and Nightfang territory, heading to pick up Daniel. Luck, it seemed, had finally run out for good. Though I knew the route, I'd somehow missed a turn, the signposts blurring into a meaningless smear through my tear-blurred vision. On pack lands, 911 was useless against a rogue. My fingers, slick with panic, fumbled for my phone. The stark, lonely truth hit me then: in a life of practiced invisibility, I had no one to call. No friends. No pack link to send a mental cry for help. My family's numbers? Blocked. The final, silent testament to a decade of being erased.

Then my car, as if sharing my despair, choked and died, leaving me a perfect, helpless target in a metal coffin.

The rogue's approach was a slow, predatory stalk. The shattering of the driver's side window wasn't just a sound—it was an explosion of violence. Glass rained down in jagged, glittering shards. A massive, furred arm swiped inward. White-hot agony seared across my forearm. My scream was raw, a desperate, solitary sound swallowed by the night.

And then… he appeared.

A black wolf of such immense size and power I'd never seen its like. He moved like a shadow given form and fury, slamming into the rogue with enough force to send both beasts tumbling away from the car. The fight was brutal, primal, and shockingly brief. The black wolf was a master of lethal efficiency. With a final, decisive twist, he ended it.

My vision, already graying at the edges from blood loss and shock, caught a glimpse of him shifting back to human form—a tall, powerfully built silhouette outlined against the car lights—before darkness swallowed me whole.

Now, the sterile brightness of the hospital room was a jarring contrast. A nurse adjusting my IV noticed my fluttering eyelids. "Oh! Look who's decided to join us! Our 'Cinderella' is awake!" she chirped brightly.

I blinked, disoriented. "Cinderella?"

Another younger nurse leaned in, her eyes wide with gossipy excitement. "You had quite the knight in shining armor! Or, well, shining fur, I suppose. A gorgeous Alpha came to your rescue. Took down that rogue all by himself!"

"He's new in town, I hear," the first nurse added, checking my vitals. "Been making a name for himself this past month. Helped a few Omegas in tricky situations."

"But this was different," the second nurse whispered conspiratorially. "I was on duty when he carried you in. Cradled you like you were made of glass. I've never seen an Alpha look so… intense. So worried. It wasn't just a rescue. It felt personal."

My mind struggled to process this. A mysterious Alpha? "Did he… did he leave a name? Who is he?"

Both nurses shrugged in unison. "That's the thing," the first one said. "He never does. Pays any bills upfront, in cash, and disappears. A true mystery hero."

Before I could press further, the door swung open with a soft whoosh. An older, stern-faced head nurse stood in the doorway, her presence instantly silencing the younger women. Her sharp eyes landed on me.

"Seraphina Blackthorne," she stated, her voice devoid of the earlier chatter's warmth. It was a cool, professional acknowledgment. "Your family is here. Now that you're awake, they can see you."

Family. The word sent a fresh jolt of anxiety through the pain medication fog. Which family? The one that had just watched me flee their gathering in disgrace? Or the one that had wished me gone for a decade? Or the one that always absent when I really need them?

The head nurse stepped aside, holding the door open. And I knew it was time to cut all this.

***

KIERAN'S POV

I can't describe the cold, sharp jolt that went through me when the hospital called. Seraphina. Attacked. On the road back from the Lockwood Hotel, the very road she'd taken to collect Daniel from my parents.

The memory of her humiliation at the reception was still fresh. When her desperate, wounded eyes had found mine across the room, something primal had stirred—a flicker of protective instinct I'd long thought dead.

She was, after all, the mother of my son. She had been my wife. But intervening would have thrown gasoline on the gossip.

It would have confused everything, especially with Celeste standing beside me, gracious and perfect. The woman I was meant to be with.

I owed it to Celeste, to our future, to not create another scandal. So I'd stayed rooted, letting Celeste play the peacemaker. Her poised handling of the situation had only deepened my admiration.

By the time the reception wound down in the early hours, my focus was solely on Celeste, on the fragile new beginning we were forging. Then the phone shattered that illusion.

The news sent a shockwave through both families. Margaret and Ethan arrived at the hospital shortly after I did, their faces etched with a worry that seemed… genuine.

When the nurse mentioned the severity of the attack, the words "nearly bled out" hanging in the sterile air, Margaret broke down in quiet, shuddering sobs. Freshly widowed, she couldn't bear the thought of losing a daughter, even the one she'd kept at arm's length. The sight twisted something unexpected in my chest.

"How is she?" My mother's voice on the phone dragged me back to the present. "Daniel wants to know."

I stared at the closed door of the treatment room, a strange, churning sensation in my gut. How is she? I didn't know. I'd heard she was found covered in blood, her car wrecked, but I wasn't the hero who'd saved her. I hadn't even been the one to bring her here.

I was just the useless ex-husband, waiting in the hall for news that wasn't mine to demand.

"There's no update yet. They haven't told us anything—"

The door opened, and Seraphina walked out.

Her right hand was in a sling, bandages poking out from under the rolled-up sleeve of the shirt. Because she didn't have a wolf, she wouldn't be able to speedily heal like werewolves did.

The thought of her having to nurse the pain and deal with injury like a mundane task gave me an uncomfortable, gnawing feeling.

Her head was turned inward, smiling at whoever was in the room—a doctor or nurse. "Thank you… I will… Yep." Then she turned, and our eyes met.

My wolf stirred at the sight.

I'd always thought Seraphina had beautiful eyes—flecks of green swirling in blue, like fish in a cerulean sea. For ten long years, I had deliberately avoided looking into them too deeply. Refused to acknowledge the devotion that once shimmered in their depths.

I told myself I couldn't forget she was the woman who'd ruined my life. Couldn't surrender again to that dangerous allure and betray my love for Celeste. But now, seeing those same eyes regard me with nothing but glacial indifference, my heart clenched.

Her smile fell, it was like that sea had frozen over, and there was nothing—not even anger for failing to protect her—just icy regard.

"Seraphina!"

The moment Margaret saw her, she leapt up, rushing forward. Seraphina turned, a slight frown creasing her brow as her mother reached for her injured arm.

"Oh, darling, look at you," Margaret's voice trembled.

"Excuse me." Sera took a precise step back, leaving her mother's hand hovering in empty air. "I think you have the wrong daughter. If you're looking for your precious—" her gaze cut past Margaret to where Ethan and Celeste stood, "—she's right behind you."

"Sera!" Ethan interjected, his Alpha tone heavy with disapproval. "You nearly died! We were worried!"

"Oh? When did my life or death become of any consequence to you?" Her voice was a chilling monotone. "You blocked my number. You erased me. Did you ever stop to wonder why a stranger in the woods was my only hope, and not my precious family who were mere miles away?"

Her words froze Ethan where he stood. His jaw tightened to stone, words trapped behind clenched teeth. As someone who'd known him for years, I recognized the turmoil churning beneath the surface. Ethan had never been close to Sera—not in the way he doted on Celeste—but in the moment he realized she'd nearly died because none of us were there for her, I caught the faint, raw fracture in his eyes.

And Sera—she just stood across from him, cold and still. No hysterics, no tears. Only a quiet, glacial fury burned in her gaze.

This wasn't the Sera I knew. The woman who'd treasured our rare kindnesses like sunlight, who'd contorted herself for the barest shred of our approval.

"The doctors say I'll live," she continued, her gaze sliding dismissively over me. "Then again…" a cold, mirthless smile touched her lips, "...relying on any of you, I probably would have died faster."

"Sera, watch your tongue!" The anger that ripped from me was instinctive. Perhaps it was the casual way she spoke of her own death. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar steel in her posture, the rebellion flashing in eyes that now held a depth of emotion I was afraid to name.

"Do you ever think of Daniel when you say things like that?" I bit out.

A flicker of guilt crossed her face, so swift I might have imagined it. For a heartbeat, the old, pliant Seraphina was there. Then it was gone.

"I'm going to get him now," she said, turning toward the exit without a second glance.

"I'll drive you—" My hand shot out, catching her uninjured wrist. Her eyes dropped to my fingers circling her arm, her brow tightening. I released her but blocked her path. "Your car is wrecked. It's not safe for you to be alone right now."

"Yes, Sera," Margaret chimed in, her worry morphing into practicality. "And you're injured. It's hardly the time to be caring for a child. Perhaps it's better if—"

"Is this your new ploy to take Daniel from me?"

"What?" The accusation was so absurd it stole my breath.

"It was a random attack. Nothing more. The only reason to make such a fuss," she said, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper, "is if you have an ulterior motive."

"Sera, what are you talking about?" Margaret gasped.

"I've given you what you wanted." She shrugged, a gesture of feigned nonchalance that was more devastating than any shout. "The divorce is signed. I've moved out. The funeral is over. I said I hoped we wouldn't meet again."

My jaw ached from clenching. "Sera, that's not—"

"Try to take Daniel from me," she said, her eyes locking onto mine with a ferocity that was utterly alien, a promise of pure, undiluted violence, "and you'll find out how sharp my teeth are—with or without a wolf."

Without another moment's hesitation, she walked out.

It felt like a silver bullet to the chest.

Seraphina was a viper. Her distance should have been a relief.

So why did the line she'd just drawn between us make me want to tear the whole damn world apart?

Celeste's touch on my arm made me jerk. "Kieran? Are you alright?" Her fingers trembled against my sleeve. "With Father gone… I don't feel safe. I need you."

I forced my focus back to her—the woman I'd loved for years. My rightful Luna-to-be.

"I'm here," I murmured, pulling her closer. "No one is going to separate us again."

Celeste buried her face deeper into my chest, her tears dampening my shirt. Yet my traitorous gaze kept drifting to the empty doorway where Seraphina had vanished.

A restless, churning agitation took root deep in my gut.

Why?