Chapter 177: Darkness and Despair

Seraphine's POV

I woke in darkness so complete it felt like drowning. My head pounded with the rhythm of my heartbeat, each pulse sending waves of pain through my skull. The sedative clung to my thoughts like tar, making everything sluggish and distant. I tried to open my eyes wider, tried to force my wolf vision to adjust, but nothing changed. Just endless, suffocating black.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I see?

My hand moved to my throat, fingers brushing against cold metal. The silver collar. The moment my skin made contact, white-hot pain exploded through my nerve endings. I jerked back with a gasp, cradling my burned fingertips against my chest. The skin around the collar felt wrong—rough, crusted over, reeking of charred flesh. Each shallow breath made the metal shift slightly, sending fresh waves of burning agony radiating outward.

This thing isn't just blocking my wolf. It's killing me slowly.

I forced myself to focus past the pain, reaching inward for that familiar presence—my wolf, always there beneath my skin. Nothing. Just hollow emptiness. Then I reached further, searching for the bond that connected me to Kaelen. The mate bond that should have been a constant hum in my chest, warm and reassuring.

Gone.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Not dormant. Not distant. Just—gone. Like someone had reached into my chest and carved out that piece of my soul. The emptiness where Kaelen should be felt massive, overwhelming. A wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.

He can't feel me. He doesn't know where I am. I'm alone.

I tried to stand, pushing against the rough surface beneath me—a bed, lumpy and musty. My legs shook violently as I got my feet under me. The room spun even though I couldn't see it. I had to grab the edge of what felt like a nightstand to keep from falling, my breath coming in short gasps as nausea rolled through me.

Move. Figure out where you are. Stop being useless.

I extended my arms, shuffling forward until my fingers hit a wall. The surface was rough, paint peeling away in strips under my touch. I followed it slowly, cataloging everything. Cold metal door, locked from the outside—I could feel the mechanism through the crack. More bare walls. A small sink with a single faucet that dripped steadily. A wooden chair, one leg slightly shorter than the others. Everything old, neglected, forgotten.

This isn't a dungeon. It's worse. It's some shithole they're keeping me in until they figure out what to do with me.

My hand found another door—bathroom, probably. The handle turned easily. Inside was a toilet and what felt like a shower stall. Basic. Functional. Prison-like.

I made my way back to the bed and sat down hard, legs giving out. Every movement sent the collar shifting against raw flesh, fresh burning making me want to scream. But I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood and forced myself to think.

The collar had a clasp. I'd felt it when Damien put it on. But when I reached up again, trying to locate the mechanism, my fingers immediately blistered on contact with the silver. The pain was instant and absolute, like touching a branding iron. I jerked my hand away with a strangled sound, cradling it against my chest as tears leaked from my eyes.

Can't take it off. Even if I found the clasp, I'd burn my hands to the bone trying to work it. And without the key—

The key Damien has. The key I'll never get.

Desperation made me stupid. I grabbed the chair, dragged it to the door, and started working the leg against the lock. The wood groaned and splintered but the lock didn't budge. I threw my weight against the door next—once, twice. It didn't even rattle. Solid. Reinforced. Built to hold someone much stronger than a weakened omega with no wolf.

I slid down against the door, breathing hard, ribs aching from the impact. The darkness pressed in from all sides, suffocating. My mind kept circling back to the clearing. To Orion.

His wolf form, sluggish from the sedative, still trying to fight. The way he'd looked at me with those amber eyes as Damien's claws pierced his chest. The wet, terrible sound of his heart being ripped out. The message carved into his cooling body: For Kaelen.

He died because of me. Because I was too fucking stubborn to listen to Lucian. Too convinced I could handle myself. And now Orion's dead and I'm trapped and Kaelen doesn't even know where to look.

"I should have listened," I whispered into the darkness, my voice cracking. "I should have stayed in the fucking house. Should have—"

The words dissolved into a broken sob that I tried to muffle against my knees. I couldn't afford to fall apart. Not now. Not when Damien could come back any second. But the tears came anyway, hot and useless, sliding down my face as my shoulders shook.

Orion used his life to buy me time. He said it was worth it. And I'm sitting here crying instead of figuring out how to survive.

I forced myself to breathe deeper, to think past the grief and panic. Orion died to give me a chance. The least I could do was not waste it. I had to survive long enough for Kaelen to find me. He would find me. He had to.

But what if he can't? What if this collar really does block the bond completely? What if I'm just—gone?

No. Stop it. Kaelen's the Alpha of Moonshadow Pack. He has resources. Trackers. He'll figure it out.

Unless Damien kills me first.

The thought settled in my stomach like a stone. Damien had said I was valuable. That he'd spent three years trying to catch me. But valuable for what? Leverage? Revenge? What the fuck did he want badly enough to kill Orion?

The sound of footsteps outside made me freeze. Heavy boots on old floorboards. A key turning in the lock.

Move. Get away from the door. Don't let them know you were trying—

I scrambled backward as the door swung open. Blinding light flooded in, so bright after the darkness that I threw my arm up to shield my face. Pain lanced through my eyes as they tried to adjust. Through the spots in my vision, I could finally see the room.