Chapter 4
895 Words
The silence between them crackled—not the cold, brittle silence of mistrust, but something thick and volatile. Seraphina could feel the air tighten, like the room itself was holding its breath.
Caelum stood so close, she could feel the heat rising from his chest, the slow pull of his bond wrapping around her senses like velvet smoke.
She should’ve stepped back. But instead, she asked, “What did the moon tell you?”
His voice dropped, rough with restraint. “That you were death… and mercy. That touching you would ruin me, but walking away would be worse.”
The words coiled inside her like fire. She wasn’t used to being wanted—not like this. Not with reverence. Not without a price.
Her gaze locked onto his lips, just for a second too long.
“Don’t,” she breathed.
“I won’t,” he said, but he didn’t move away. “Unless you ask me to.”
She didn’t.
A knock on the stone door shattered the tension.
Rheon’s voice cut through. “We have a problem.”
Seraphina exhaled sharply, stepping back from Caelum. Her heart thudded against her ribs like it was trying to escape. “Of course we do.”
She opened the door to find Rheon’s face carved in stone. “Three bodies at the western ridge. My scouts found them strung in the trees—flayed and gutted. Not wolves. Witches.”
“Witches?” Seraphina echoed, stunned.
Rheon nodded grimly. “And that’s not the worst part.”
He handed her a blackened piece of parchment—one that pulsed with corrupted magic. On it was scrawled one word:
“Return.”
Caelum’s jaw clenched. “He’s summoning you.”
“No,” Seraphina said, staring at the sigil burning faintly into her hand. “He’s marking me.”
A thin line of crimson light spread from her palm like veins awakening under her skin. It sizzled.
“It’s the death mark,” Rheon said quietly. “A bond forged through blood betrayal. You were claimed once. If he tries to resurrect it—”
“I’ll die again,” she finished.
Not just her. The children she didn’t even remember yet.
“I need my memories back,” she said. “All of them.”
Caelum stepped closer. “You don’t get them back by wishing.”
“I wasn’t asking for advice.”
He grinned faintly. “There’s a way. But it’s risky.”
“Everything is.”
“Then follow me.”
Beneath the Mountain
Caelum led her into a cavern that pulsed with ancient energy. Silver roots coiled around the ceiling like veins. In the center was a pool of liquid black moonstone, still and endless.
“This is where my ancestors kept their truths,” he said. “It will show you your past—but only if you’re ready to bleed for it.”
Seraphina stepped forward without hesitation. “I’ve already bled. I’m still bleeding.”
She knelt at the pool’s edge and dipped her fingers in.
The moment her skin touched the surface, the water hissed and roared—pulling her in.
Memory Flood
She saw it all.
The night of her mating ceremony—Darian’s smile is like poison in wine. The soft curve of her belly as she grew with twins. His betrayal—the slaughtered midwives, the way he whispered “I never wanted weakness” before snapping her spine.
Her scream echoed through the chamber.
Caelum caught her before she collapsed, holding her like he’d known her pain for centuries.
She clutched his shirt, gasping, “They were mine.”
“I know.”
“Where are they?”
He hesitated.
Then: “One lives.”
Her entire world tilted. “What?”
He looked her in the eye. “A girl. Hidden from Darian. Raised in secret. She has your fire.”
Seraphina shook. “And the other?”
“Taken,” he said grimly. “No one knows where.”
“Then we find them both,” she whispered.
Later That Night
She stood at the cliff’s edge, alone with the wind.
Caelum approached quietly. “I shouldn’t have let you go in alone.”
“You couldn’t have stopped me.”
He reached out, brushing her hair back from her face. “You terrify me, you know.”
She arched her brow. “Good.”
But the look in his eyes wasn’t fear. It was hunger.
Not for her body—though that tension simmered—but for her purpose. Her vengeance. Her flame.
“Don’t fall for me, Caelum,” she said. “I’m not your redemption.”
He tilted her chin up. “I’m not looking to be saved. I’m just looking to stand beside the storm.”
She didn’t stop him when he kissed her.
It wasn’t sweet—it was a wildfire meeting wind, burning everything in between.
And for the first time in her second life, Seraphina let someone in—if only for a breath.
But even in that breath, a darker truth stirred in the shadows.
Back at the ridge, Darian stood over another burned witch corpse, whispering to a child cloaked in shadow and ash.
“Find her, my son. Bring you
r mother home.”
The child lifted glowing eyes.
Eyes like Seraphina’s.
- Writer
