Page 38

SERAPHINA

T he pain is worse than anything that's ever been done to me. The emptiness is surreal. I've woken up in yet another nightmare, and this time, he isn't here to get me through it or hold my hair up while I puke up my guts.

He isn't here.

I can't even sense him. Feel him: electric, strong, sure, and alive. My layers are coming off piece by piece and I can't keep it together, can't live like this.

You will not come after me.

Tears fall from my chin, wetting the papers and silence falls in the small hall. "You're all dismissed," I manage.

The elders look between themselves. Axel's lips twist with displeasure.

"It is important we come to a decision. Everyone knows of the boy's abduction and the Alpha's disappearance.

Your decision to keep us in the dark places us all in danger.

You are incapable of making decisions in your state.

Unfit. Someone else must occupy the Alpha's seat in his absence.

You all but need to hand the seal over, High Luna. "

He speaks my title like it means nothing. Like I am the joke of the century.

I look up, even as the tears wet my cheeks. I don't care that they can see it. Or my bloodshot eyes. I am tired, exhausted, in shambles. And I don't give two shits about maintaining decorum. "And I am to believe you all agree with Axel? The seat mustn't be left unoccupied for too long, is it?"

Half the table nods in agreement, the other half unsure. I nod, turning left. "I assume you have made a choice, then?"

Elder Danill speaks first, his gaze shoots to Axel. "After the Head Alpha's, the Blue Moon pack is the strongest. It is only right that Alpha Axel be granted the seal."

I lean back in my—Soren's seat and reach up, tugging the useless hair pins from my hair one after the other. I let them fall across the table. "Some might say the one strong enough to be the Head Alpha's Beta is the better choice, don't you think?"

Eric stiffens on my right, green eyes darting to me as he tries to hold my gaze for long enough to repeat Soren's words to me, reminding me of his compulsion.

You will remain here and take care of the pack in my absence.

He compelled me. And it should've worked.

It did, but I woke up without the weight of his command pressing down on me.

He tried to force me to stay put. I understand why, but he had no right to try to take my choice away.

He simply had no right to do that with me and then punish me with his absence like this, with the worry that something might have happened to him.

Soren had to be mad if he thought I would do nothing but sit pretty.

Axel leans forward, his veins seconds away from popping from his neck. "Erickson is a Beta. He can't have that seat."

I blink, holding up my fingers. "Tell me something, Danill. Before my son was born, was Eric not Soren's heir?"

The male nods, clearly not liking where this is going.

"Was he not accepted, then?"

Another nod, this time from the right side of the table.

"So, I see no use in talking my ear off with your speculations and needs. We either stick to tradition and you duel the present heir," I incline my head towards Eric—capable, muscular Eric who is nearly as big as his brother and more than twice Axel's size or height. "Or I keep the seal."

When no one else utters a single word, I squeeze the bill and toss it into the hearth. "It hasn't even been seven days and you have brought the council forward so quickly. One would think you had this planned all along, Axel."

He bristles, not at all bothering to hide his anger and hatred. "I do what I must for our people. Something an outsider like you wouldn't understand."

Leaning forward, I peer into his eyes that would otherwise have been beautiful, if his insides weren't so ugly.

"Keep going with this, Axel, and not even the council will be able to keep you from losing your head.

Being this bold, contesting for a throne that has never been yours or your bloodline's to duel over, more so this early only proves to me that you are either quite sure Soren will not return from his trip or you have plans in place to make sure he doesn't."

His eyes shift and even if I didn't already know he was working with Ronan somehow, it's been confirmed now. In front of the council, too. They stare at him with judgment and he feigns amusement, laughing quickly. "My loyalties lie with the Head Alpha."

"Which one?"

Another shifty look. Could he be any more obvious? Or is that the point to all this? Being so damned obvious in his betrayal? "An odd question. Where else would it lie but with Alpha Winter?"

I tilt my head. "We'll see." Rising, my dress pools around my feet, the soft ivory silk teasing my high sandals. "Come, Eric."

"You're doing great," he tells me as we walk the hallways up to Soren's study.

"I can't do it anymore," I whisper, clutching the train of my dress tight enough to gouge it with my nails.

Eyes follow me, they're filled with pity, others, questions.

Eric and I tried to curb the news by saying Soren left for negotiations, but with Ronan announcing to everyone who wished to hear that he has the Northern Head Alpha held captive, everything blew up in our faces.

Eric steps ahead, getting the door before I can reach for the knob and I sink into the couch, finally letting my shoulders curve, my spine arch with heaviness. "I can't do this anymore, Eric."

I don't realize I've begun sobbing until his arms go around me, bringing me flush against his chest. Ever since the abduction, he's stuck around like this.

Perhaps, it is because he blames himself for it, even if I don't. I'm glad he didn't die.

I still see Ruslan in dreams, his body slumping over and gods, the blood.

I would have lost it if I lost Eric too, after having Landon ripped from my chest.

My sobs grow louder and breathy, snot staining his shirt.

"A few more days," he assures me. "He needs us to stay put only for a few more days until the council of the six. Everything will be fine, then. I promise."

Eric lied.

I am in the middle of another excruciating meeting the next day when a package is brought in for me by a servant.

Somehow, I knew not to open it until I was alone.

And when I do, I scream, dropping it almost immediately.

The guards stationed outside my room barge in to find me sitting on the floor, staring at three severed fingers scattered a few feet away from me, drenched in blood.

Worse yet, I recognize the scent of Soren that coats each of them.

I start to shake from within as a guard—Bryan—leans over and picks up a short note. "Luna," he says and I grasp it with trembling fingers, my heart stopping dead at the familiar writing.

" I've waited long enough, Seraphina. Be here by dusk or it'll be his head in a fucking shoebox next."—R.C.

I get out of the car.

The lights of the Red Wolf mansion look like small stars this late at night, like it used to be when revelries were held, and even from my vantage point, I can see the hurried movements coming from within.

Kaida always did like her revelries, and Ronan, his guests.

My boots crunch against the gravel as I make my way for the front doors. The silver pistol sits heavy at my hip, covered with Soren's fur-lined coat. In the midst of guests dressed scantily for the weather, I stand out, enough to rouse the attention of the guards.

But they don't stop me as I walk through the doors of the place I hated even more than the West.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I act on instinct, twisting as I grab at large meaty fingers and yank the arm at an awkward angle. The guard snarls, creating a scene that has every person in the hallway turning to watch us.

I notice two more guards—none of which I recognize—standing off to the side, hands on their weapons but keeping a safe distance from me, like I am some animal waiting to lash out and bite.

Not that I fault them. I know what I look like right now. Hair pulled tight in a ponytail, murderous intent darkening my gaze, the unhinged smile cracking my lips, the aura that wraps around me. I've been this way since I read that note.

I'm going to fucking kill Ronan or die trying.

The guard tries swatting me off, but I hold still, pulling hard enough to wrench his arm from its socket and he hisses, "Rotten Northern cunt."

Someone gasps and I hear a vaguely familiar voice say, "Isn't that...Seraphina?" Harriet, possibly.

I cock my head at the insult and loosen a breath, ramming the heel of my boot into the back of his knee. He drops like a damned tree and I ram the tip of my foot into his jaw in quick succession, snapping his head back forcefully.

His howl fills my ears as I bring my gaze back to the guards. "Ronan sent you." They nod tightly. "Lead the way."

Flanked by two guards, I am led through a series of familiar hallways, past familiar faces with eyes that pop wide in surprise, narrow in suspicion or glare with reproach. No happiness. No welcome. Then again, this was never my home.

We stop by Ronan's study and I imperceptibly place my hands on the gun holster as the guard knocks twice.

A muffled "come in" comes from inside and I am pushed inside.

I am greeted by a throaty moan, and the sight of a glossy dark head bumping up and down Ronan's groin. The woman's ass is barely in her uniform anymore and I avert my gaze from her red thong pushed to the side.

Ronan grabs at her hair roughly, pulling her off his dick, and his eyes are on me, dark and hungry.

More jarring is when the woman turns to me, licking her lips.

She has a full dark head of hair, not as frizzy as mine.

Her eyes are a bright cobalt blue, her lips nearly as full as mine, her nose a small knob.