Chapter 115: Holding the Line

Seraphine's POV

Five days.

Five fucking days since I walked away from Kaelen at that ball.

Five days since I'd thrown his accusations back in his face. Since I'd watched him break down in that hallway. Since he'd finally admitted what I'd known all along—that he'd chosen to believe Vespera's lies because it was easier than trusting me.

Five days of him showing up at my door every morning. Knocking. Waiting. Getting nothing but silence.

Day one, he brought apologies. His voice muffled through the wood, words tumbling over each other. Sorry. Wrong. Please.

I didn't open the door.

Day two, gifts started appearing. New clothes. Expensive fabrics in deep blues and silvers. I had Cordelia return them before noon.

Day three, books. First editions. Rare volumes about art and history. I stacked them outside my door untouched.

Day four, pastries from the kitchen. Still warm. My favorites somehow. I had them sent to the pups at the school instead.

Day five—yesterday—he just stood there. Didn't knock. Didn't speak. I felt him through the bond. That desperate, aching presence pressed against the other side of the door.

I sat on my bed. Waited. Counted my breaths until his footsteps finally retreated down the hall.

This morning made six days.

I stood at the bathroom mirror. Ran cold water over my hands. Splashed my face.

The woman staring back looked different.

Better, actually. My skin had color again. Not that prison-pale shade I'd worn for weeks. My eyes looked clearer. Sharper. The dark circles underneath had faded.

I looked like someone who could breathe.

Keeping distance from Kaelen after that confrontation did that. After I'd finally made him face what he'd done. After I'd watched the mighty Alpha crumble under the weight of his own guilt.

That victory should have felt better. Instead, it just made me tired.

No more fighting. No more defending myself against accusations he knew were lies. No more watching him choose Vespera over me again and again because it was fucking convenient.

Just peace. Cold. Empty. But mine.

My reflection held steady. No more of that hunted animal expression. No more flinching at shadows.

I looked like myself again. Or maybe a harder version. Someone who'd learned not to break.

This was right. This choice to shut him out.

I dried my face. Ran fingers through my hair. Started braiding it back from my face when I heard it.

A soft thud outside my door.

I froze. Listened.

Footsteps. Retreating. Quick and quiet like whoever it was didn't want to be caught.

I waited until silence settled back over the hallway. Counted to thirty. Then crossed to the door and cracked it open.

A package sat on the floor. Wrapped in brown paper. Tied with blue silk ribbon.

That scent hit me immediately. Pine and smoke. Kaelen.

My hand hovered over the package. Part of me wanted to kick it back into the hallway. Let him find it untouched like everything else.

But something made me hesitate.

I grabbed it. Quick. Before I could change my mind. Pulled it inside and shut the door.

The package felt light. Not clothes or books. Something else.

I sat on the bed. Stared at the brown paper and blue ribbon. My fingers found the ribbon's edge. One tug and it fell away.

The paper crinkled as I unwrapped it. Revealed what was inside.

A book. Bound in soft leather. Deep green with gold edging.

My breath caught.

The cover design—delicate vines and flowers worked into the leather—looked exactly like the one in my former room. That same artistic touch. That same attention to detail.

I recognized it because I'd spent hours staring at Kaelen's sketchbook. The one he'd made with Isolde. The one I'd found when I was locked in his room. The one that showed how much he'd loved her.

My hands shook as I opened to the first page.

Blank. Cream-colored paper. Thick and expensive. Waiting for drawings and words that didn't exist yet.

But Kaelen's handwriting filled the top half. Black ink. Careful letters.

Seraphine,

I was wrong. About everything.

I believed Vespera's lies. I questioned your loyalty. I doubted you when I should have trusted the bond between us.

You were right that night. I knew better. I've always known. But I let suspicion poison my judgment. I let old wounds control my actions.

I'm sorry.

This book is blank because I hope we can fill it together. Not to replace what I had with Isolde. Not to recreate the past.

But to create something new. Something that's ours.

If you'll let me try.

—K

The letters blurred. I blinked hard. Forced them back into focus.

My fingers trembled against the page. The bond stirred. Pushed Kaelen's emotions at me whether I wanted them or not.

Hope. Desperate and fragile. Fear that I'd reject this too. Regret so deep it felt like drowning.

I could picture him writing this. Sitting at his desk in the study. Choosing each word carefully. Wondering if it would be enough.

The apology felt real. The words felt honest.

But that's what made it worse.

Five days ago, he'd stood in that hallway. Broken. Admitting he'd known the truth all along. That he'd chosen to believe Vespera's lies because suspecting me was easier than dealing with his own shit.

And now this. A sketchbook. The same romantic gesture he'd used with Isolde.

Like a pretty book could erase what he'd done. Like recreating his lost love story could fix the fact that he'd publicly shamed me.

I snapped the book shut.

No.

He didn't get to do this. Didn't get to use Isolde's playbook on me. Didn't get to think that art and pretty words would make me forget that he'd broken me down piece by piece because it was convenient.

Because I wasn't Seraphine to him. Not really. I was just Isolde 2.0. The replacement model. The stand-in for the woman he actually loved.

And look how that ended. Isolde died. Killed by whoever wanted to hurt Kaelen through his mate.

The same thing could happen to me if I let myself fall into this trap.

I grabbed a pen from my nightstand. Flipped the book back open to Kaelen's message.

My hand moved across the page. Beneath his careful script, I wrote my response.

I'm not her replacement. I never will be.

Keep your promise: Help me find Lyralei. Don't interfere with my life.

That's all I want from you.

My handwriting looked sharp. Angry. Each letter pressed hard enough to indent the paper.

I closed the book. Set it on the nightstand.

Enough. I wasn't going to let Kaelen and his complicated guilt take up more space in my head. I'd spent five days in this room thinking about him. About that confrontation. About the way he'd looked when I'd finally made him face what he'd done.

I was done.

The garden needed tending. The roses I'd planted weeks ago should be blooming by now. The herbs needed pruning. Real, simple work that had nothing to do with mate bonds or dead Lunas or political games.

Work that would quiet my mind. Make me forget all this shit for a few hours.

I stood. Smoothed down my dress. It was simple enough for garden work. The blue fabric wouldn't show dirt too badly.

I took a breath. Steadied myself. Reached for the door handle.

The door swung open.

Two figures stood in the hallway. Waiting.

Gods... Damn it. It's you two again.