Seraphina's POV
"Mother…"
Lyric's voice was ringing in my heart, it was soft even though his gold and silver eyes glowed faintly.
He sat on the bed watching me put my silver blanket on my shoulders.
"Yes, little wolf?" I knelt beside him.
"You are afraid." I paused, his words cut deeper than any blade.
"I am, but fear does not mean weakness. Fear is the reminder that what I protect matters." I admitted, because lying to him felt like lying to myself.
"They won't all like what you say tonight." He turned his head, studying me in that strange way of his, far too old for his years.
"No, but liking it is not the point, surviving is." I whispered, kissing his forehead.
He reached for my hand, his small fingers were holding tightly around mine. And in the silence between us, I felt the steady-state of his wolf that was young, untested, but strong and that he believes in me even if no one else does.
