Chapter 121: Earring

Seraphine's POV

I was seven years old again.

Running through Silverwood's training grounds. My father's disappointed voice echoing behind me. "You're not trying hard enough, Seraphine. You'll never lead this pack if you don't focus."

I hated those words. Hated the weight they put on my shoulders.

My mother found me later. Behind the barracks. Crying into my knees.

"Don't listen to him, sweetheart." Evangeline pulled me close. Kissed my forehead. "You're perfect exactly as you are. Strong. Brave. Special."

"I don't want to be Alpha." I sobbed into her shoulder. "I want to be like Lyralei. Free."

"Then be free." She stroked my hair. "You don't have to be what they expect. You just have to be you."

I believed her. Stupidly. Naively.

Later that night, I found Lyralei in her room. Told her everything. My dreams. My fears. My ambitions that had nothing to do with pack leadership.

She listened. Smiled. Promised to keep my secrets.

The scene shifted.

Moonlight Valley. Blood everywhere.

Conrad—my father's Beta, his trusted friend—standing over my father's dying body. Laughing.

Marcus—my trainer, my mentor, the warrior I'd admired—holding my mother down while Damien tore out her throat.

"Run!" Mother's last word. Gurgled through blood.

Lyralei grabbed my hand. We ran.

I shifted mid-stride. Gray fur erupting across my skin. Bones cracking. Reforming.

"Get on!" I dropped low. Let her climb onto my back.

Her hands fisted in my fur. Her weight settled between my shoulders.

I ran faster. Harder. Away from the screams. The death. The betrayal.

Behind us, Marcus shouted orders. Wolves howling. Pursuit.

Lyralei's arms wrapped tight around my neck. Her face buried in my fur. Sobbing.

The forest was dark. Branches whipped at us. Roots tried to trip me.

I didn't slow down. Couldn't slow down.

"Don't let go!" I wanted to shout. But wolves couldn't speak. Could only run.

Her grip tightened. "I won't! I promise!"

The sounds of pursuit grew closer. Snarls. Paws pounding earth.

They were faster. Trained warriors chasing two terrified girls.

We weren't going to make it. We weren't—

The snap was deafening.

Metal teeth bit deep into my front leg. Agony exploded through me.

A hunter's trap. Hidden in the undergrowth.

I went down hard. Screaming. The sound coming out as a howl.

Lyralei flew off my back. Hit the ground. Rolled.

"Sera!" Her voice cracked. Desperate. Terrified.

I jolted awake.

The bed was soft beneath me but drenched in sweat. My heart hammered against my ribs.

My breathing came in ragged gasps. Too fast. Too shallow.

The nightmare clung to me like spider webs. I could still smell the blood. Still hear my mother's final scream. Still feel Lyralei's weight on my back before she fell.

I pressed my palms to my eyes. Forced myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

It wasn't real. Not anymore. They were dead. Had been dead for years.

But the trauma never left. Never faded. Just waited for quiet moments to surface.

I sat up. Pushed sweat-dampened hair off my forehead.

The cottage was dark. Silent. Moonlight filtered through the curtains.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps. Outside.

Light. Quick. Purposeful.

I froze.

The spring night was usually peaceful. Just river sounds and insects. The occasional owl.

Not footsteps. Not at this hour.

My pulse spiked. Every muscle tensed.

Years of survival training kicked in automatically. I moved silently. Slipped out of bed without a sound.

Grabbed my clothes from the chair. Dressed quickly in the darkness. Reached under the pillow for my dagger.

The familiar weight of it in my hand was reassuring.

The footsteps continued. Circling the cottage. Light. Almost dancing.

Who the fuck would be here at this hour?

I crept to the window. Carefully pulled back the curtain just enough to see out.

The garden was empty. Moonlight painted everything silver and shadow.

Nothing moved. No one visible.

But the footsteps were still there. Faint now. Moving away from the cottage.

I watched for another minute. Two. Nothing.

Probably just some animal. A deer maybe. Or a stray wolf from the pack.

I was about to let the curtain fall when I caught movement at the garden's edge.

A shadow. Darting between the trees.

Then gone.

My heart raced. That wasn't an animal.

I moved to the door. Pressed my ear against the wood.

Silence now. Complete silence.

Slowly, carefully, I unlocked the door. Eased it open.

The cool night air hit my face. Carrying scents. Information.

The garden smelled incredible. Flowers in full bloom. New growth. Life bursting from every corner.

And underneath it all—that thick, overwhelming scent of spring heat. Heavy. Cloying. The unmistakable smell of arousal. Of wolves losing control to the fever.

I grimaced. Stepped fully outside. The stone path was cold under my bare feet.

Probably just some young couple looking for privacy. The cottage was isolated. Surrounded by gardens. Perfect for secret meetings.

The spring heat made everyone stupid. Made them take risks they'd never normally take.

None of my business.

I started to turn back to the cottage.

But something stopped me. A flash of memory. Sharp and unwelcome.

This afternoon. The garden. Kaelen kneeling beside me in the dirt.

The way he'd looked at me. Dark eyes focused. Intent.

The seed packets he'd brought. Not jewelry. Not expensive gifts. Just simple, practical seeds.

Exactly what I needed.

My body had betrayed me then. The heat rising. The pulse racing. The desperate want I couldn't control.

I'd run. Locked myself in the cottage. Doused myself with freezing water.

Heat bloomed low in my belly now just thinking about it.

Fuck.

I slapped both hands to my cheeks. Hard enough to sting.

Focus. Get your head together.

This was just spring fever. Just biology. Meant nothing.

I took a deep breath. Tried to clear my mind.

That's when I smelled it.

Not the general scent of heat in the air. Something specific. Familiar.

A scent that shouldn't be here.

I turned slowly. Scanning the garden. Following my nose.

There. On the path. Just a few steps away.

Something glinting in the moonlight.

My heart stopped.

A gold earring.

I knew that earring. Would recognize it anywhere.

I dropped to my knees. Snatched it up with shaking hands.

The metal was warm. Recently worn. The scent clinging to it unmistakable.

Honey. Wildflowers. Sweet youth.

Lyralei.