SERAPHINA’S POV
Selene’s gaze stayed fixed on the horizon for a long moment after her last words.
She leaned back in her chair, the wood creaking softly beneath her weight. For a heartbeat, she looked younger—less Luna, more woman remembering something she’d once survived.
“It was my coming-of-age ceremony,” she said. “The night the pack formally recognized me as an adult. As…eligible.”
I pictured it instinctively: firelight, ritual markings, the weight of expectation pressing in from all sides.
“I knew Adrian was planning something,” she continued. “He was terrible at hiding it. Disappearing for hours. I’d catch him practicing speeches he pretended weren’t speeches. I pretended not to notice, but I did.”
Her lips softened into a wistful curve. “I was excited. Nervous. Hopeful.”
I swallowed.
“When the midnight bell tolled, tradition dictated that I follow my mate’s scent,” Selene said. “You don’t question it. You don’t hesitate. You trust the pull.”
