A Fractured Trust
Seraphine’s silver eyes shimmered with a carefully crafted blend of maternal warmth and sorrow as she sat between Lyra and Eryon in their quarters. The dim light of the artifact, hidden beneath the floorboards, cast a faint glow across the room, heightening the tension.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Seraphine said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “For the chance to protect you, to make up for the years we’ve lost.”
Her words were like a net, wrapping tightly around them. Eryon glanced at Lyra, uncertainty flickering in his amber eyes. Despite everything, there was a part of him that wanted to believe her, to embrace the mother they had never known. But his wolf stirred uneasily, its instincts warning him that all was not as it seemed.
“This plan,” Eryon began, his voice low but steady. “It’s reckless. You’re asking us to risk everything—to go against the most powerful vampire in the realm.”
Seraphine reached out, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Her touch was warm, grounding, but the intensity in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine. “I would never ask if I didn’t believe in you,” she said, her voice filled with a conviction that made his doubts waver. “You’re stronger than you think, my son.”
Eryon’s jaw tightened as he looked away, his mind churning with conflicting emotions.
Lyra, however, was less convinced. Sitting across from them, her silver eyes narrowed as she broke the silence. “Why don’t we tell Adrian?” she asked, her voice steady despite the unease coiling in her chest.
Seraphine’s expression darkened for a fleeting moment, the shift so subtle that only Lyra’s wolf noticed it. But then her face softened again, her tone turning honeyed and persuasive. “Because he’s too close to the King,” she said. “If he knew the truth, he’d have to make a choice—and I think we both know where his loyalty lies.”
Lyra’s wolf growled faintly, a low rumble of discontent that she barely managed to suppress. Something about Seraphine’s words felt too rehearsed, too perfect.
Seraphine leaned forward, her gaze locking onto Lyra’s. “You’re all I have,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t make me lose you again.”
The weight of her plea pressed down on them both, leaving the room thick with an uncomfortable silence. Eryon shifted in his seat, his fists clenched as he fought against his lingering doubts. Lyra bit her lip, her instincts screaming that something was wrong, but the vulnerability in Seraphine’s voice made her hesitate.
In that moment, Seraphine’s grip on them tightened, her carefully woven words leaving them more conflicted than ever.
