Chapter 7 - Echo
1190 Words
Seraphine’s POV
Darius words still rang in my head but the gates closing felt louder than thunder.
Not because of the sound.
But because of what they had sealed inside with us.
I stood there long after Fael and his entourage disappeared down the mountain path, rainclouds gathering where they had passed, like the sky itself disapproved of their return to the world.. my world.
My hands were shaking.
I hadn’t noticed until Darius’s fingers wrapped around my wrists, grounding me back to reality.
“Breathe,” he murmured slowly .
I tried.
And air slowly went into my chest although It didn’t feel like it reached my lungs.
“They.. They said he’s dying,” I whispered. Saying it aloud made it real in a way I hadn’t allowed yet. “They said my son is dying.”
Darius didn’t contradict me with false comfort.
He never did.
“They said many things,” he replied calmly. “Not all of them were truths.”
I pulled my hands free not because I didn’t want his touch, but because if I stayed there, leaning into him, I would break.
I couldn’t afford that.
Not now.
Aurelian.. my baby was inside.
I turned and walked.
Each step felt wrong, like my body didn’t remember how to move without fear stinging hard at its heels.
The corridors of Clawfrost packhouse were warm, carved stone and glowing runes lining the walls.
Home.. my safe haven.
But safety suddenly felt thin andragile.
I found Aurelian curled on the floor of our chambers, his wooden sword discarded, his back pressed to the bed. Kade sat nearby, one knee bent, sharpening a blade he had no intention of using.
The moment Aurelian saw me, he scrambled up.
“Mama Mama,” he said. “Who was that man and why did he smell like storms?”
I froze.
Storms..
That was what Fael had always smelled like before he touched me.
Ozone and frost.
My knees weakened and I crouched in front of my son and smoothed the dirt from his cheek with trembling fingers.
“He’s… family,” I said carefully.
Aurelian frowned. “I don’t like him.”
Relief crashed through me so hard it almost hurt.
“Good,” I whispered, pulling him into my arms. “You don’t have to.”
His little hands fisted in the fabric of my dress, right over my heart.
“Mama,” he said softly, voice suddenly small. “Am I sick?”
I swallowed.
Children always knew.
“No,” I said immediately. “Why would you say that? You are strong. Stronger than you know.”
He considered that.
“Papa says strong things break too if they don’t rest.”
My throat closed.
Darius stood in the doorway.
Silent.
Watching.
Kade rose smoothly. “I’ll take watch,” he said, already moving. “No one gets near the inner chambers.”
“Thank you,” Darius said.
When the door closed, it was just the three of us.
Family.
My family.
I lay back on the bed with Aurelian tucked against my side until he finally fell asleep. His warmth anchored me, his steady breathing was like a fragile miracle that I refused to let the world take.
Darius remained standing.
Guarding.
Always guarding.
“You should sit,” I said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” I replied. “And neither am I.”
That made him move and he sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Aurelian, his hand resting close but not touching.
Six years.
Six years of restraint.
The silence stretched until it became unbearable.
“They want us to go back,” I said finally.
“Yes.”
“To Grimfang.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the ceiling, memories pressing in painful and annoyingly uninvited.
The cold stone.
The mirror.
The rain.
“My body still remembers that hell of a place,” I whispered. “Sometimes I wake up and I can still feel his claws on my...”
Darius’s jaw tightened. “You will never face it alone.”
I turned my head, meeting his eyes. “And what if the prophecy is true?”
He didn’t look away as he spoke. “Then we fight it.”
“What if fighting it means tearing everything apart?”
“Then,” he said quietly, “we rebuild.”
I studied him closely, this man who had never claimed my body.
Who had sworn an oath before asking for loyalty.
Who had raised my son as his own without demanding blood in return.
“My son stirred the moment Fael looked at him,” I said. “Did you feel it?”
“Yes.”
Fear crept into my bones. “There is something inside Aurelian,” I continued. “Something old. Something… pulled.”
Darius nodded once. “Blood remembers,” he said. “Even when we wish it wouldn’t.”
I closed my eyes.
“I won’t let them take him away from me,” I whispered. “I don’t care what the Elders or blood demand. I don’t care about crowns or packs or ancient stones.”
Aurelian shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible.
My resolve hardened.
“If returning to Grimfang is the price,” I said, opening my eyes, “then we go on our terms.”
Darius’s gaze sharpened.
“Say them.”
“I don’t kneel before anyone,” I said. “Not to Fael.. Not to the Elders.. Not to the ghosts of traditions that nearly killed me.”
“You won’t, you go there as the Luna of Clawfrost,” he promised.
“They do not touch my son,” I continued. “They do not separate us. They do not test him like an object.”
His wolf stirred.
“And if they try?” he slowly asked while I sat up slowly, careful not to wake Aurelian.
The room seemed to dim around us.
“Then,” I said, voice steady despite the storm rising in my chest, “they will learn and understand why the Goddess let me survive the rain.”
Darius looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
Not broken.
Not rescued.
But forged.
“We will leave at dawn,” he said. “I’ll gather my men.”
I nodded.
As he stood to go, I reached out and caught his wrist.
Just for a second.
He stilled.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He turned back.
“For what?”
“For choosing us,” I said. “Every day.”
Something unguarded flickered across his face.
“You never had to earn that,” he replied. “You were mine even before the moment you survived.”
And with that he left quietly.
I lay back down and pulled Aurelian closer, pressing a kiss to his hair.
Outside, the mountains groaned.
Far away, a Blood Moon was getting ready to rise.
And somewhere deep within me..
Something answered.
Awake.
Remembering.
Ready.
I needed Darius.
- Writer
