SERA'S POV
I have a daughter.
The words keep circling in my mind like vultures. Sixteen years. Sixteen years of my life stolen, memories erased, a child ripped from my arms.
Lyra. My baby girl.
"Sera, we need to talk about—" Kael starts, but I'm already moving.
"I need a minute." My voice sounds hollow. "Please."
I don't wait for his answer. I stumble toward the bathroom attached to his bedroom and lock the door behind me. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely turn the lock.
A daughter. I have a daughter, and Morgana has been using her as leverage against me for years without me even knowing the truth.
The rage that fills me is so intense I think I might explode from it.
But rage won't save Lyra. Strategy will.
I pull the small vial of blood from my pocket—the one Morgana gave me before this mission. "For emergencies," she'd said. "If you need to contact me directly."
I thought it was trust. Now I know it's a leash.
My hands tremble as I pour the blood into the sink and whisper the activation spell. The blood swirls, forming a mirror-like surface. For three heartbeats, nothing happens.
Then Morgana's face appears, sharp and beautiful and cold.
"Sera." She smiles like a loving mother. "I was wondering when you'd call."
I want to scream at her. Want to reach through the blood-scrying connection and tear her apart with my bare hands. But I force myself to stay calm, to play the part she expects.
"There's a problem," I say, letting my voice shake. Not hard when I'm this close to falling apart. "I'm his mate."
Morgana's expression doesn't change. Not even a flicker of surprise.
"I know," she says simply.
The world tilts. "What?"
"I've known since you were thirteen years old." Morgana leans closer to her own mirror. "The Oracle prophesied it. You and Kael Nightfang, bound by fate. It's perfect, really."
My mouth goes dry. "You KNEW? You sent me here knowing the mate bond would activate?"
"Of course." Morgana's smile is poisonous patience. "Do you think I've spent twenty-three years preparing you just to leave anything to chance? The bond makes you the perfect weapon, my blade. He'll trust you. Let you close. Never see the knife coming."
Horror crawls up my spine. "You want me to use the mate bond to—"
"To get close enough to drive silver through his heart, yes." Morgana waves her hand dismissively. "The bond will make it harder emotionally, but you're strong. You'll do what needs to be done."
"I can't." The words burst out before I can stop them. "The bond is—it's not like you described. It's agony when I'm away from him. My body won't let me hurt him. When I tried to attack him earlier, I—"
I stop. Almost told her I stabbed myself instead. Almost revealed that my Moon Blessed power activated.
Morgana's eyes narrow. "What happened earlier?"
"Nothing," I say quickly. "Just—the bond is stronger than I expected. I need more time to fight through it. To build his trust so he doesn't suspect—"
"You have six days now," Morgana interrupts, her voice turning to ice. "The Oracle's message changed the timeline. Either Kael Nightfang dies by your hand before the Blood Moon, or Lyra takes your place on the altar."
She knows. She heard the Oracle's message somehow.
"Lyra's just a child," I whisper. "She's only sixteen. You can't—"
"She's sixteen years old, which means she's reached magical maturity. Young, yes, but the prophecy will accept her as a substitute sacrifice if you fail." Morgana's expression is carved from stone. "I raised her just as carefully as I raised you, Sera. She's a backup plan, nothing more."
A backup plan. My daughter is a backup plan.
The rage threatens to consume me, but I force it down. If Morgana knows I've learned the truth, she'll kill Lyra immediately just to spite me.
"I'll do it," I say, and hate how broken I sound. "I just need a few days to make him trust me completely. If I strike too soon, his pack will hunt me down before I can escape."
"You're not meant to escape." Morgana's smile returns, soft and terrible. "You complete the kill, and then you return to the Sanctum for your own sacrifice. That was always the plan."
My blood turns to ice. "What?"
"Did you really think you'd survive this mission?" Morgana laughs, and it's the sound of a mother humoring a naive child. "Oh, my sweet blade. You were always meant to die on the Blood Moon. Kael's death is just the opening act. Your death is the finale that seals the prophecy forever."
She's not even trying to hide it anymore. No more lies about saving the world, about me being the hero.
I'm meat for slaughter. I always have been.
"But Lyra—" I start.
"Will die if you don't complete your mission. And if you run, if you try to escape with Kael or warn him about any of this, I'll know." Morgana's eyes flash with dark magic. "The blood oath I placed on you works both ways, Sera. I can see through your eyes when I choose. Hear through your ears. I'm always watching."
The magical noose around my throat tightens, just enough to remind me it's there.
She can see me. Hear me. Know everything.
My mind races. How much has she seen? Does she know about the library, about Kael's evidence, about me choosing the bond over the mission?
"I understand," I say, keeping my voice dead and obedient. The voice of the weapon she made me. "Six days. I'll make sure he trusts me completely, and then I'll finish it."
"Good girl." Morgana's approval feels like acid on my skin. "And Sera? Don't disappoint me. I'd hate to watch Lyra die knowing it was your failure that killed her."
The blood-scrying mirror dissolves, leaving me staring at an empty sink.
I sink to the floor, my back against the bathroom door. Six days. Six days to kill my mate or watch my daughter die.
And Morgana can see everything.
A soft knock makes me jerk upright.
"Sera?" Kael's voice is gentle through the door. "I know you need space, but we need to make a plan. The Oracle's message changes everything."
I close my eyes. He's right. We need a plan. But how can I plan anything when Morgana is watching through my eyes?
Unless—
A memory surfaces. Something Ravens the Seer told me once, years ago, before Morgana forbade me from visiting her. "Blood oaths can be fooled if you know how. The magic reads intent, not action. It sees what you believe, not what you know."
If I can make myself believe the lie while knowing the truth underneath...
It's insane. It'll never work.
But it's the only chance I have.
I open the door. Kael is standing there, concern written across his face. Behind him, Declan hovers protectively.
"I need to tell you something," I say, and force myself to meet Kael's eyes. "But first, I need you to understand—Morgana can hear everything I say. She's watching through a blood oath. So whatever I tell you right now, you have to pretend to believe I'm still on her side."
Kael's expression sharpens. "What are you—"
"The mission is still active," I say loudly, clearly, letting Morgana hear through my ears. "I'm going to gain your trust over the next six days. And then I'm going to kill you."
Declan's hand flies to his weapon, but Kael holds up a hand to stop him.
"But," I continue, dropping my voice to barely a whisper while maintaining eye contact with Kael, "that's what she needs to hear me say. The truth is—"
Pain explodes through my skull.
Morgana's voice screeches in my mind, furious and triumphant. "DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE YOU TRYING TO WARN HIM?"
The blood oath activates. My body seizes, and I collapse.
Kael catches me before I hit the floor, but the damage is done. The magical noose is crushing my throat, cutting off air, and I can feel Morgana's spell wrapping around my mind like chains.
"No more warnings," Morgana hisses in my head. "No more clever plans. You will complete your mission, or I will make Lyra's death so slow and painful that her screams will haunt you for eternity."
The connection severs, but the oath remains—tighter now, more restrictive.
I'm gasping for air in Kael's arms. Declan is shouting something about calling a healer. But all I can focus on is the horrifying realization settling in my chest.
I can't warn Kael without Morgana knowing.
I can't tell him the truth without triggering the oath.
I can't fight the bond and complete the mission.
And I can't save my daughter if I'm dead.
"Sera, look at me." Kael's voice cuts through the panic. His hands frame my face, forcing me to focus on his golden eyes. "Whatever just happened, we'll figure it out. Together."
But we can't. That's the problem.
And then I see it—the smallest flicker of understanding in Kael's expression. He glances at Declan, then back at me, and mouths two words:
I know.
He knows Morgana is watching. He knows I tried to warn him. He knows I can't speak freely.
But he also knows I'm fighting on his side now.
The question is: how do we save Lyra when Morgana is always three steps ahead?
"The healer is on the way," Declan says stiffly. "Alpha, perhaps we should move her to—"
He stops mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.
Standing in the doorway to Kael's bedroom is a figure I recognize from old photographs in the library.
A woman with silver eyes and a crescent mark on her shoulder.
A woman who's been dead for sixteen years.
My mother.