SERAPHINA’S POV
When Maya shoved her phone in front of my face, I almost cramped while I was stretching.
“Can you believe this?”
I squinted, reading the headline.
‘Alpha Kieran Blackthorne to Host Intimate Soirée with Future Luna, Celeste Lockwood.’
The photo attached was grotesquely polished—Celeste in a backless gown, coy smile in full bloom, clutching Kieran’s arm like he was a flight risk.
I barely recognized the man beside her. He looked like a wax figure. Too still. Too stiff. Too… not him.
Maya snorted as she pulled the phone back, her face twisted in a sneer.
“‘Intimate soirée’? Please. That shit is posted on basically every media outlet in LA. She probably hired half of LA’s photographers to make sure every angle of her new nose job gets coverage.”
I didn’t laugh. I just stretched out on the yoga mat and pushed up into a plank. “I’m guessing Ethan got an invitation?”
