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SEVENTEEN

SERAPHINA

E arly the following morning, Seraphina smoothed the silken fabric of the blue-green sundress against her thighs, admiring how the color reminded her of the ocean surrounding the island.

The dress was one of many exquisite pieces Orion had provided for her, each seeming to complement her form perfectly.

She turned in front of the mirror feeling sexier and more confident after her night of passion with Orion.

The memory of his hands on her naked body made her blood heat with fresh desire.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, expecting Verna.

Instead, Orion's imposing figure filled the doorframe. His eyes immediately locked with hers, possessive and magnetic. The tailored black shirt he wore strained against his muscular chest as he moved toward her.

"You look beautiful," Orion said, his voice low and intimate.

Something in her chest tightened. "Thank you for all the lovely clothes."

"They pale in comparison to you." Orion closed the distance between them, his hands finding her waist. "Please don't go."

Seraphina's heart skipped. "Orion?—"

"I'll handle Iverson myself." His jaw tightened, that alpha dominance radiating from him. "This whole thing feels wrong. Let me protect you."

She pulled back, though every cell in her body protested the separation. "I need to do this. I can explain everything to the senator and clear your name."

"You don't understand human politics?—"

"And you do?" she challenged.

His mouth curved into a reluctant smile. "Enough, but fair point. I do fully understand danger though, and something about York feels... calculated."

Seraphina reached for the sapphire necklace he'd given her, unclasping it from around her neck. "Here. Hold onto this for me." She pressed it into his palm, curling his fingers around it. "A promise that I'll return."

Pain flashed across his features, quickly masked by cautious hope. "You swear it?"

"I do." She meant it despite the uncertainty churning in her stomach. The intensity of her feelings for this man—this wolf king—terrified and thrilled her simultaneously.

He bent down, claiming her lips in a kiss that started tender but quickly blazed into something fierce. Seraphina melted against him, her hands pressing against his chest as he tightened his arms around her waist. The kiss promised reunions and possibilities that made her head spin.

When they pulled apart, Orion pressed his forehead against hers. "Let me at least escort you to the plane."

The small island airstrip felt impossibly final as they approached. Chance stood beside the small aircraft, his tall frame relaxed but vigilant. York paced nearby, checking his watch repeatedly.

"Finally," York muttered when he spotted them. "The weather window is closing."

"The next storm's moving faster than predicted," Chance explained, offering Seraphina a friendly smile. "Better get going."

Seraphina turned to Orion one last time. "I'll be back before you know it."

He didn't respond. He just stood there frozen, his broad shoulders tensed, and a stoic expression plastered on his face. But his eyes burned with emotion.

She fought back tears as she climbed the steps into the aircraft. York followed closely behind her, his expression unreadable as he directed her to a seat.

Through the small window, she could see Orion still standing like a statue, his powerful presence commanding even from a distance. As she buckled her seat belt, an unwelcome vision flashed—darkness, confinement, fear—but it vanished before she could grasp it fully.

Unease settled in her stomach as York took the seat beside her, his smile too practiced and cold.

She wondered if she had just made a terrible mistake.

But before she could further assess the situation, the plane's engines roared to life, drowning out her thoughts momentarily as they taxied down the runway.

"So," she began, twisting her fingers in the soft fabric of her dress, "how exactly did Abby figure out I was missing so quickly? We're close, but she doesn't typically check up on me throughout the day."

York's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on his armrest. "Miss Jenkins was quite concerned when you missed your lunch date."

Seraphina frowned. "Lunch date? We didn't have plans."

"Perhaps you forgot in all the excitement," York replied, his thin smile not reaching his blue eyes.

The plane lifted into the air, and Seraphina watched Orion's island shrink beneath them.

Her mind drifted back to his intense gray eyes, and the protective posture of his broad shoulders as he'd stood watching her board.

Those final words echoed in her head: I'll handle Iverson myself . Perhaps she should have listened.

"And how exactly did anyone know to look for me on Orion's island?" she pressed. "It's not like he advertises his location."

York's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "Senator Iverson has extensive resources."

"Does he make a habit of tracking down random astronomers?"

"You're hardly random, Miss Lucero." York's gaze flicked to her face, then away. "The senator has been following your work."

"My work on stellar cartography?" Seraphina asked incredulously. "I didn't realize celestial mapping was a political priority."

York cleared his throat. "Perhaps you should rest. You must be exhausted after your ordeal."

After thirty minutes, Seraphina turned and looked out the window, watching clouds drift by. Something wasn't adding up. She realized they should be approaching Miami's coastline, but there was nothing but endless ocean below.

We're going the wrong way.

Her heart rate accelerated, but she kept her face neutral. Orion had been right. This felt wrong—dangerously wrong. She wished she had trusted his instincts, his protective nature that she'd initially mistaken for possessiveness.

"Seems like we're taking the scenic route," she remarked casually, though her palms had begun to sweat.

"Just weather patterns," York replied mechanically. "Nothing to worry about."

The plane banked left, and Seraphina caught sight of a small landmass in the distance—definitely not Florida's distinctive peninsula.

"That doesn't look like Miami," she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

York's expression shifted, the practiced pleasantness fading into something harder. "Just relax, Miss Lucero. We'll be landing very soon, and you can see your friend Abby and speak with Senator Iverson. Everything will be just fine."

The predatory way his eyes tracked her movements made her skin crawl. It wasn't the appreciative gaze Orion gave her that made her feel beautiful and desired. This was calculating, measuring her worth like livestock at auction.

"I think I'd like to speak to the pilot," she said, unfastening her seat belt.

York's hand shot out, gripping her wrist. "That won't be necessary. We're beginning our descent."

The plane dipped, and through the window, Seraphina could see they were approaching an island with a small airstrip cut into dense jungle. A gleaming white mansion sat on a cliff overlooking the sea. This wasn't Miami—this was someone's private retreat.

Her throat tightened as she realized just how far she was from Orion, from his safety. Her fingers unconsciously reached for the sapphire necklace she'd returned to him, wishing she had that token of protection.

Orion was right. I should have stayed with him.

The plane soon touched down with a jarring thud, rattling Seraphina's teeth as it skidded along the small jungle airstrip. Through the window, emerald foliage blurred past.

"Welcome to Senator Iverson's private retreat," York announced, his voice too smooth and too rehearsed.

Seraphina's stomach knotted as the aircraft slowed to a halt.

This was definitely not the bustling Miami airport she had been promised—this was isolation packaged in luxury.

The sapphire necklace's absence felt like a phantom limb.

She kept reaching for it only to find bare skin where Orion's gift should have rested.

"I don't understand," she said, infusing her voice with confusion rather than the fear clawing at her throat. "Why are we here instead of Miami?"

"Senator Iverson prefers to handle delicate matters personally. Privacy is paramount in cases like yours," York explained, his voice laced with practiced sincerity.

"Cases like mine?" Seraphina unbuckled her seat belt with trembling fingers. "I'm an astronomer who went away on a short vacation without telling anyone, not a political prisoner."

"Of course not." York chuckled, the sound hollow as he gestured toward the open cabin door. "After you."

The tropical air hit her like a wall—thick, humid, and heavy with the scent of salt and flowers too sweet to be natural. At the bottom of the stairs, a sleek black limousine waited, its polished surface reflecting the dense jungle surrounding them.

A man stepped out of the vehicle, his gray hair immaculately styled, wearing a tailored suit that showcased his athletic build. Recognition crashed through Seraphina like a wave, freezing her mid-step.

It was him.

The monster from her vision.

The man who must've broken into her home.

Senator Iverson approached with the practiced smile of a career politician, but his light blue eyes held the cold calculation of a predator. "Miss Lucero, what a pleasure to finally meet you properly."

A vision slammed into Seraphina without warning.

Her surroundings dissolved, replaced by blood and fur and teeth.

Orion, magnificent in his wolf form, gray and powerful, locked in mortal combat with another wolf—black and vicious.

Senator Iverson. Blood matted Orion's fur as he struggled, fought, and ultimately fell beneath Iverson's crushing jaws.

The vision panned outward—Orion's island overtaken, his pack in chains, serving Iverson's twisted ambitions.

The Starlight pack bowed beneath whips and threats while Iverson stood triumphant on Orion's throne.

"Miss Lucero? Are you feeling unwell?" Iverson's voice pulled her back to reality, his hand on her elbow.

Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, but where? They were surrounded by jungle, on an island she didn't know, miles from safety. From Orion.

Survival meant playing along. For now.

"Sorry," Seraphina forced a smile, blinking rapidly. "Just a bit disoriented from the flight. It's been quite the adventure."

"Indeed." Iverson's grip tightened momentarily before he released her. "Please, allow me to escort you to the estate. Your friend Abby is waiting for you there."

Liar.

"Abby's here?" Seraphina widened her eyes, injecting hope into her voice. "That's wonderful! I've been so worried about what she must think."

"She's understandably curious about your sudden disappearance.

" Iverson guided her toward the limousine, his hand hovering at her back—not quite touching, but present enough to make her skin crawl.

"But don't worry, once we're at the estate, you can catch up over drinks by the pool.

Consider it a mini-vacation after your ordeal. "

As she slid into the plush leather interior of the limousine, Seraphina closed her eyes briefly, concentrating on the strange warmth that had bloomed in her chest the moment she'd touched Orion—that connection Bertram had called a mate bond.

Orion, please. I need you. It's a trap. He means to kill you. To enslave your pack. Find me.

The intensity of her mental plea surprised her—part desperation, part instinct she didn't fully understand. She had no idea if such connections were real or simply pack mythology, but at that moment, she clung to the possibility like a lifeline.

"The island is beautiful," she commented as the limousine purred along the winding jungle road. "Have you owned it long?"

"For decades," Iverson's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's my sanctuary from the political circus. Speaking of which, I understand King Guillaume was quite... hospitable during your stay."

Another vision crashed over her—darkness, metal against her wrists, a windowless room. Senator Iverson's voice echoing: "You will use your powers for me. You will see my path to victory. You will help me take what's mine."

Seraphina blinked it away, careful not to let her expression change. "Everyone was very kind. It was all a misunderstanding, really."

"Oh?" Iverson leaned forward, those cold eyes suddenly intent. "What kind of misunderstanding?"

"Just cultural differences." Seraphina kept her voice light while her mind raced. "He saw me in distress and assumed I needed rescuing. Very old-fashioned chivalry."

"And did you need rescuing, Miss Lucero?"

"From a break-in, yes." She met his gaze directly. "Someone entered my home. I'm not sure who."

Something flashed behind Iverson's eyes—amusement, perhaps? "How frightening for you. But you're safe now."

No, I'm not. I'm in more danger than I've ever been.

Seraphina looked out the window, watching the jungle press close against the road, feeling more trapped with every passing second. "I can't wait to see Abby. Is it much further?"

"Just around the bend." Iverson's voice held a promise that made her blood run cold. "And then we can truly get to know one another."