Seraphine’s Desperation
The walls of the ceremonial chamber felt like they were closing in on Seraphine. She paced the room, her movements restless, her mind racing with frantic thoughts. Draven’s suspicion was growing; she could feel it in the way he looked at her, the way his words cut deeper with every conversation. She was running out of time.
Her reflection in the gilded mirror taunted her, the painted crescent moon on her cheek a constant reminder of the lie she was living. The woman staring back at her wasn’t Isla—it never would be. No matter how perfectly she mimicked her sister’s mannerisms, no matter how carefully she crafted her words, Draven’s instincts were too sharp to ignore.
She slammed her hands down on the vanity, her frustration boiling over. “Damn it,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “I didn’t come this far to lose now.”
A sharp knock at the door startled her, and she spun around, her heart leaping to her throat. “Luna?” Susan’s voice called from the other side, hesitant but firm.
Seraphine’s pulse quickened. Susan had been watching her too closely, her sharp eyes picking up on the cracks in her facade. But Seraphine couldn’t afford to slip now. She forced herself to take a deep breath, smoothing her gown before responding. “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and Susan stepped inside, her expression carefully neutral. “The Alpha asked me to check on you,” she said, her tone polite but probing. “He seemed… concerned.”
Seraphine stiffened, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second before she quickly recovered. “I appreciate the concern,” she said, her voice soft and composed. “But I’m fine.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze lingering on Seraphine’s face. “You’ve been quiet,” she said. “The pack has noticed.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Seraphine replied smoothly, moving to the bed and sitting down gracefully. “Adjusting to all of this hasn’t been easy.”
Susan stepped closer, her brow furrowing. “If there’s something you need to share, Luna, you can trust me. The Alpha trusts me.”
The subtle challenge in her words wasn’t lost on Seraphine, and her hands curled into fists in her lap. “Thank you, Susan,” she said, her tone icy but controlled. “But there’s nothing to share.”
The two women locked eyes, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Susan nodded, though her expression remained skeptical. “Very well,” she said. “But if you need anything, I’m here.”
As Susan left the room, Seraphine exhaled shakily, her composure cracking. The walls were closing in faster than she had anticipated, and she needed a plan—something that would solidify her position before Draven uncovered the truth.
Her gaze drifted to the painted crescent moon on her cheek. She had played her part well, but the performance was no longer enough. If she was going to hold onto her place as Luna, she would need to take drastic action.
And she would do whatever it took to ensure her deception endured.
