Chapter 8

(Seraphina POV)

Sleep was an impossible, mocking luxury.

The image of my father's trembling hand and the hollow despair in his eyes haunted my restless tossing. Nyx paced back and forth in the confines of my mind, a restless ball of agitated, kinetic energy. When the clock on the nightstand struck midnight, officially marking the arrival of my twentieth birthday—and the concurrent anniversary of my sister's death—she offered a fleeting, cryptic congratulation before returning to her silent, obsessive pacing.

By 5:30 AM, I surrendered to the insomnia. Wanting to avoid my mother’s inevitable, grief-fueled morning rampage, I threw on a faded pair of jeans and an oversized sweater, stuffed a yellow notepad into my backpack, and slipped silently out of the formidable Beta suite.

My feet, operating on sheer muscle memory, carried me deep into the western woods toward the waterfall. It was my secret sanctuary—the very place where Nyx and I had first merged in blood and fire.

I sat on a flat, mossy stone near the edge of the deep pool and pulled out a pen. For the last six years, I had always written my prayers down before burning them. It felt infinitely more tangible than casting silent thoughts into the empty void.

I took a shaky breath, the crisp morning air filling my lungs, and began to write.

*Dear Moon Goddess,*

*It has been six years. Sebastian and the pack still believe I murdered her. I have been a coward, hiding behind the factual excuse that she was the one who initiated the meeting in the woods. But the truth is... the day before she died, I prayed to you.*

*I prayed that you would make her stop hurting me. Make her stop the pinching, the sabotaging, the quiet, insidious torture.*

*If her death was the bloody price of answering my selfish prayer, then I am on my knees begging for your forgiveness. My father doesn't deserve this endless, agonizing loop of grief. The pack is stagnant. Sebastian is completely broken.*

*Please. Intervene today. Give Sebastian a second-chance mate. Give him a Luna who will heal his heart, temper his rage, and let this pack finally release Gwendolyn’s ghost. Let them move on, even if it means leaving me behind forever. I accept my punishment, but free the others.*

I folded the paper carefully, pressing the edge to my cold lips.

*"You sound utterly pitiful,"* Nyx snapped suddenly through our mental link, her pacing coming to an abrupt, jarring halt. *"Gwendolyn's death was her own fault. Stop shouldering the sins of the dead to make yourself feel noble."*

"You saw Dad last night, Nyx," I mentally argued, striking a match against the stone. "He's shattered. The pack is broken."

*"Stop analyzing and start breathing!"* Nyx’s voice spiked, a frantic, wild edge suddenly bleeding into her usually composed tone. The mental link hummed with a violent, electric static.

Suddenly, a scent washed over me.

It wasn't the damp earth, or the pine, or the sharp tang of the waterfall. It was a rich, intoxicating wave of pure vanilla perfectly layered over the dark, roasted depth of espresso beans. My vision went hazy. The match slipped from my trembling fingers, hissing sharply as it hit the wet stone.

*"MATE!"* Nyx roared, the sheer volume of her voice shaking the foundations of my mind. *"Seraphina! Our mate is here!"*

My heart stopped dead in my chest.

I stood up, brushing the ash from my jeans with numb fingers, and turned around slowly, terrified of what I would see.

Standing two hundred feet away at the edge of the clearing, frozen like a statue carved from absolute disbelief, was Sebastian.

*No. No, no, no.* This had to be a cruel, twisted joke engineered by a sadistic Goddess.