Chapter 81: Not Isolde

Seraphine's POV

He moved. Fast. Too fast.

One moment he was across the room. The next he was on me.

Iron fingers clamped around my wrist, yanking my hand away from my neck with bruising force. His grip unforgiving. Cruel. Necessary.

I fought him. Thrashed. Pulled with everything I had.

My free hand clawed at his arm. Drew blood that welled up in thin red lines.

"Let me go!"

My other hand struck at his chest. His face. Anywhere I could reach. Desperate. Wild.

"Let me end this!"

"Stop fighting!"

He used his body to pin me. Force me still against my will.

His weight crushed me against the wall. Stone cold against my back, unforgiving as his grip.

Blood dripped down my neck. Warm streams painting my skin red. Stained my collar. My dress. Dots appeared on the floor—dark red against pale stone like some fucked up art piece.

The bond screamed.

Tearing. Ripping. Fighting for survival.

The pain unlike anything I'd felt before. Like being torn in half from the inside out. Like my soul was splitting down the middle.

We both felt it.

His face twisted. Agony written in every line, every angle, every breath.

His breathing harsh. Ragged. Matching mine beat for beat.

"Do you know what you're doing?"

His voice came out strangled. Barely recognizable. Nothing like the Alpha who commanded hundreds.

"This is bond rejection. This is—"

"I'm ending this nightmare!"

Tears streamed down my face. Hot. Angry. Desperate. Mixed with blood until I couldn't tell them apart. Salt and copper on my lips.

"Ending us! Ending all of it!"

I bucked against him. Tried to break free with strength I didn't have.

My body fought even as my mind screamed to give up. To surrender. To accept defeat.

His grip tightened. Bruising. Unbreakable. Final.

The storm outside matched the one inside. Wind howling. Snow driving against glass like it wanted to break through and join us.

---

He forced me back harder against the wall.

His body a cage. Trapping me. Holding me. Keeping me from destroying us both.

We were both breathing hard. Ragged. Desperate. Like we'd been running for miles.

Our chests heaving. Hearts racing. The Bond between us writhing like a wounded animal trying to survive.

Blood smeared between us.

On his hands. My neck. Our clothes. Red everywhere. Stark against pale skin.

His face was inches from mine.

Those dark eyes blazing. Wild. Tormented. Reflecting back my own pain.

I could see my reflection in them—small, broken, dying. Everything I'd become.

"This is betrayal."

His voice shook. Raw. Stripped of all control, all pretense.

A pause. Heavy. Suffocating. The world holding its breath.

The air between us crackling. Electric. Wrong in every way.

"You're destroying the bond."

Another breath. Harsh. Painful. Like each word cost him something.

"Destroying what we have."

His forehead pressed against mine. His breath hot on my face. Close enough to feel his heartbeat.

"Do you understand? This is rejection."

The word hit me like a physical blow.

Betrayal.

My mind flashed to the sketchbook. To that page where he'd written it over and over in thick, dark letters that bled through the paper.

BETRAYAL

BETRAYAL

BETRAYAL

The same desperate, broken handwriting. The same raw pain bleeding through every stroke. The same accusation he'd hurled at someone else.

He'd accused Isolde of the same thing.

And she'd never defended herself.

Never explained.

Just... gave up.

Let them destroy her.

The words tore out of me before I could stop them. Before I could think.

"I'm not Isolde!"

My voice cracked. Sharp. Desperate. Wrong.

The effect was immediate.

Kaelen froze. His entire body went rigid. Like someone had turned him to stone.

His eyes widened—shock breaking through the fury like ice cracking under pressure.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed. The world suspended.

The fire popped. A log shifted. The only sound in the suffocating silence.

Then his gaze snapped upward. To the cabinet above the bed. To the empty space where the sketchbook had been hidden.

Where it should still be hidden.

His jaw clenched. A muscle jumped in his cheek. His pupils contracted.

Understanding dawned in his eyes. Cold. Terrible. Inevitable.

You looked through my things.

The accusation hung unspoken between us. Louder than if he'd screamed it.

My stomach dropped. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

I lowered my head. Couldn't meet his eyes anymore. Heat flooded my face—shame and guilt twisting in my gut like a living thing.

I went through his private things. His memories. His pain. His grief.

I violated something sacred.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Crushing. Endless.

Only the storm outside. The dying fire. Our ragged breathing.

I could feel his stare boring into me. Could feel the weight of his judgment. His anger. His... hurt?

The bond pulsed weakly between us. Damaged. Fragile. Ready to shatter completely.

But he didn't.

Just stood there. Staring at the cabinet. Then at me. Then back at the cabinet.

Processing. Understanding. Hurting.

The silence was worse than any accusation. Worse than any punishment.

It stretched so long I thought I might suffocate under the weight of it.

Finally, his grip on my wrist loosened. Slowly. Deliberately.

His hand dropped to his side.

"You need rest. Now."

His voice came out flat. Empty. Devoid of the fury from moments before. Devoid of everything.

Somehow that was worse. So much worse.

He turned. Walked to the door. Each step deliberate. Controlled. Measured.

Not fleeing. Not storming out.

Just... leaving.

The door opened. Closed with a soft click.

The lock turned. Definitive. Final.

And I was alone.

Blood still dripping down my neck. Heart still racing. The bond screaming in protest at the distance—at the damage we'd done to it.

I slid down the wall. Sank to the floor in a heap.

My legs couldn't hold me anymore. Nothing could.

Outside, the storm raged on. Wind howling. Snow falling harder.

Inside, I felt nothing.

Just empty.

Hollow.

Scraped clean.

I'm not Isolde.

But maybe that didn't matter.

Maybe I was just another person he'd lose.

Another betrayal waiting to happen.

Another name he'd write over and over in desperate, broken letters.

SERAPHINE

SERAPHINE

SERAPHINE

The blood on my neck dried slowly. Sticky. Cold.

The bond pulsed weakly. Barely alive.

And I sat there in the darkness, surrounded by the wreckage of everything I'd destroyed.

Wondering if maybe Kaelen was right.

Maybe breaking the bond would kill us both.

Maybe that would be better.

At least then the pain would stop.