Chapter 87: Heartache
Seraphine's POV
Nothing.
I felt nothing.
Cordelia's arm wrapped around my waist, holding me upright. Her voice came from somewhere far away, muffled like I was underwater. "Can you walk? Sera, I need you to try."
My legs moved. Not because I told them to. Just moved. One foot in front of the other. Lucian walked ahead of us, clearing branches, checking the path. His boots crunched on dead leaves.
The forest blurred past. Trees. Shadows. The scent of earth and blood.
Ember's blood.
It covered everything—my dress, my arms, my face. Dried and cracking on my skin.
"Almost there," Cordelia said, her grip tightening when I stumbled. Her own injuries forgotten as she held me steady. "Just a little further."
Kaelen's house appeared through the trees. Dark wood. Quiet. Isolated from the main pack territory. Lucian pushed the door open, held it as Cordelia guided me inside.
Warm light from the fireplace. Furniture. Normal things.
Wrong.
Everything was wrong.
"Upstairs," Lucian said quietly. "Guest room on the right."
Cordelia helped me up the stairs, each step feeling impossible. Down a hall. A door opening. A room with wooden walls. A window. A bed with clean white sheets that looked too bright.
"Here, let's get you to the bed." Her hands on my shoulders, gentle but firm.
My legs gave out. Knees hit wood hard. Should have hurt. Didn't.
"Okay. That's okay." She knelt beside me, her face pale and drawn. "You're safe now."
Safe. Funny word.
I stared at my hands. Something sticky coating my fingers. Red. Dark red.
That smile flashed through my mind. Those green eyes going empty.
My chest felt hollow. Scraped clean.
Lucian appeared in the doorway. "I'll stay downstairs. Call if you need anything." His eyes lingered on me for a moment, concern etched in his weathered face, before he left.
Cordelia stayed. Sat beside me on the floor. "Seraphine..."
I didn't respond.
Time passed. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.
"Let me check your wounds," she said finally. Her voice soft. Careful.
I didn't stop her. Didn't help her either.
Her hands moved over my arms, checking for injuries. Found scratches. Bruises. Nothing serious. Nothing that mattered.
"Rowan should look at these," she murmured. Then stopped. "But I need to get him first. Will you be okay for a moment?"
I didn't answer.
She stood slowly, backing toward the door. Hesitated. Then left.
Silence pressed down like a weight.
Voices drifted up from downstairs. Rowan's deep rumble mixed with Cordelia's softer tones. "Her wounds aren't serious physically, but—" "I know. Let me bandage your shoulder first." "I'm fine, she needs—" "Cordelia. Sit."
More time slipping past.
Then footsteps on the stairs. The door opening. Cordelia with a wet cloth. Her shoulder wrapped in clean bandages now. "Seraphine, I need to clean your face."
The cloth touched my cheek. Red smeared across white fabric.
No.
My hand shot out, grabbed her wrist. "Don't."
"Don't what?" Her eyes searched mine, confusion and concern mixing.
"Don't wipe it away." My fingers tightened until I felt her pulse jumping. "That's... that's her. That's all that's left."
Cordelia's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Seraphine..."
She tried to pull back. I held on. "Please. Don't take her away."
A pulse ran through my chest. Sharp. Sudden. The bond. Kaelen was close, moving fast through the forest.
My grip loosened. The cloth fell.
---
The door swung open. Heavy footsteps. The scent of pine and blood and earth filled the room.
Kaelen.
He stood in the doorway, covered in blood that looked black in the dim light. Dirt caked in his hair. Clothes torn to shreds. But alive.
His eyes found mine. Gold fading to brown. "Cordelia. Out."
Not a request.
She touched my shoulder once before leaving. The door closed with a soft click.
Kaelen knelt where she'd been. A wet towel appeared in his hands. "Let me clean you up."
I didn't respond.
He reached out. The towel touched my cheek, warm water mixing with dried blood. Red spread across white. "The attackers are dead. All of them. They won't hurt you again."
The towel moved to my forehead. Wiping away the evidence. Wiping away Ember.
I pushed his hand. "Don't touch her blood."
"Seraphine—"
"I said don't!" My voice broke into pieces. "That's all I have left of her."
The words died in my throat. He lowered his hand slowly, the bloody towel hanging between us. His eyes searched my face, looking for something.
Whatever he hoped to find wasn't there. I was empty.
The bond stretched between us. Usually carrying emotion. Connection. Now? Nothing. Just dead air.
His jaw tightened. But he didn't try again. Just moved to the wall, sliding down until he sat two steps away.
---
He stayed the whole night. Didn't try to move me or clean the blood or speak. Just sat there while the moon rose and cast silver light across the floor.
I stayed curled on the wood, knees to chest. Blood dried on my skin, cracking when I moved.
I'm sorry, Ember. I'm so sorry.
The words repeated. Over and over. I should have run faster. Should have grabbed you sooner. Should have died instead.
My lips moved silently. "I'm sorry... Ember... I'm sorry..."
The window turned from black to gray. Dawn. My eyes finally closed.
But sleep didn't bring peace. Just darkness.
---
Warmth on my face pulled me back. Sunlight streaming through the window. Birds singing like nothing had happened.
Footsteps. The door opened. Cordelia with a basin of water, clean towels over her arm. Dark circles under her eyes. She'd been crying.
"Seraphine." She knelt, set the basin down with a soft splash. "Let me help you. Please."
I didn't stop her this time. What was the point? Ember was gone. The blood wouldn't bring her back.
Cordelia dipped a towel in water, wrung it out, started wiping my face with gentle strokes. Red swirled in the basin, darkening from clear to crimson. She moved to my arms, my hands, cleaning with patient care.
"It's my fault." The words came out flat. "I killed her."
"No." Her voice was firm, her hands pausing. "You didn't. Those men did."
"They came for me."
"That doesn't make it your fault."
"She died protecting me." My throat closed. "She was just a kid. She should have run."
Cordelia's hands gripped mine hard, her wet fingers cold. "Listen to me. You didn't choose this. You didn't ask for those men to attack. You didn't ask Ember to—" Her voice broke. "She made her own choice. She was brave. And stupid. And so fucking young."
Tears ran down her face. "But it's not your fault, Seraphine. Do you hear me?"
I wanted to believe her. But the image wouldn't leave—Ember's smile, her hand reaching, the claws driving through, the blood. My eyes closed. Tears leaked out. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
---
Voices downstairs. Loud. Urgent. A man's voice. "Cordelia! Cordelia, are you—"
"I'm here! I'm okay!" Her voice carried up through the floorboards.
Running footsteps on the stairs. Then Cordelia's voice again, muffled and breaking. "It's Ember... she's dead."
Silence. Heavy. Then: "What? No. That's not—she can't be—"
"She is. I'm sorry."
More voices joined in, lower now, talking in urgent whispers.
I pressed my hands over my ears. Didn't help. Couldn't block it out.
Ember's dead. That child died. She was only ten. Because of you. Your fault.
My hands moved to my hair. Grabbed. Pulled. The pain felt distant. They came for you. She died because they wanted you.
I crawled to the corner, pressed against the wall. My stomach heaved. Nothing came up but bile. I collapsed, curled into a ball, and cried.
Screaming. Sobbing. The sound ripping from my throat.
Downstairs—sudden silence. Then footsteps running. The bond flared sharp. Kaelen felt it. All of it. The pain crashing through.
I didn't care. Let him feel it. Let him understand what I'd brought to his pack.
Death. Pain. This was what I was—a curse.
---
Afternoon light slanted through the window when Kaelen's voice rang out downstairs. Deep. Commanding. "Everyone. Main hall. Now."
Footsteps responded. Multiple people moving. I didn't move. Just stayed in my corner, knees pulled tight.
"Today at dusk, we'll hold the funeral." Kaelen's voice carried clearly. "For Ember, and those seven dead guards."