SERAPHINA’S POV
I had no idea how long I just stayed there, staring at the Moonlit Spring.
The voices around me had faded completely now—no more soft laughter, no more whispered prayers.
Only the rustle of wind through trees, the distant hoot of an owl, and the delicate sound of water lapping at stone.
I should have left. This was borderline trespassing.
But something in me resisted the idea of turning away.
A faint tremor pulsed under my ribs, like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to me. It still sometimes took me off guard when I felt her.
Alina.
She brushed the edges of my thoughts like a ghost. She didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound. But there was a…feeling—an attraction. Like a magnet buried in the spring was drawing me in.
I stood slowly, my bare feet pressing against the damp earth. The grass was cold, slick with dew.
Each breath I drew in seemed to deepen the pull between the water and me, as though the spring itself recognized something I didn’t yet understand.
