A Mother’s Embrace
The chamber’s oppressive energy seemed to lighten as Seraphine stepped forward, though it didn’t disappear entirely. Her silver eyes shimmered with an almost maternal warmth, softening the jagged glow of the relic that bathed the room in an eerie, flickering light. Lyra and Eryon couldn’t look away, their wolves restless beneath their skin as though drawn to something primal in her presence. Yet doubt swirled in their minds, a storm of conflicting instincts and unanswered questions.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Seraphine asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and expectation.
Lyra and Eryon exchanged uneasy glances. Their bond hummed with uncertainty, their shared doubt pressing against the fragile possibility Seraphine presented. Lyra’s grip on her blade tightened reflexively, while Eryon’s jaw set, tension radiating from him.
Eryon took a cautious half-step forward, his voice steady but edged with suspicion. “If you’re really our mother, why now? Why appear only when we’ve found this relic?”
Seraphine’s gaze flickered, her lips curving into a faint smile that carried none of the warmth her voice had moments before. “Because I’ve been searching for you,” she said, her voice cracking just enough to seem genuine. “The portal took you from me, and I’ve fought through worlds to bring you back.”
Adrian, leaning casually against the chamber wall, broke the moment with a derisive scoff. “How convenient,” he muttered, his crimson eyes narrowing. “You show up the moment they find something of value. A little too coincidental, don’t you think?”
Seraphine turned her gaze on Adrian, her expression hardening like tempered steel. “I have nothing to prove to you, boy,” she said, her voice sharp enough to cut. The venom in her tone made even Adrian’s confidence falter for a moment.
Her features softened again as she looked back to Lyra and Eryon, her steps slow and deliberate as she moved closer. “But to you, my children—I’ll prove everything.” Her voice carried the weight of conviction, a gravity that made Lyra’s grip on her blade falter. “I am your mother. And I will protect you from the dangers that surround us. You’ve suffered enough.”
Lyra’s throat tightened, an unfamiliar ache rising within her. Something in Seraphine’s voice stirred memories buried so deeply they felt like they belonged to someone else. Flashes of a silver-eyed woman holding her close, a faint scent of wildflowers, a voice that soothed the nightmares she couldn’t remember. The pieces didn’t fit, but they were there, fragments of a puzzle that felt too dangerous to assemble.
Eryon’s expression didn’t waver, though his fists unclenched slightly. “You’ll have to do more than make promises,” he said, his voice low and measured. “We’ve heard enough of those.”
Seraphine nodded, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “I expected no less.”
As the group began their exit from the chamber, the weight of the relic seemed to follow them, its glow fading with each step they took. The tension among them was palpable, the air thick with unsaid words and lingering doubts.
As they reached the threshold, Seraphine leaned in close to Lyra, her voice a whisper that barely stirred the air. “Trust me, child,” she murmured, her tone laced with an urgency that made Lyra’s wolf bristle. “He’s not who you think he is.”
Lyra’s eyes widened slightly, but before she could respond, Seraphine pulled back, her expression calm and unreadable. The words lingered, heavy and cryptic, leaving Lyra’s thoughts spiraling. She glanced at Adrian, who walked a few steps ahead, his posture rigid and his attention seemingly elsewhere.
Lyra couldn’t shake the feeling that the truth was slipping further away, hidden beneath layers of secrets that could tear them all apart.
