Seraphina’s laughter filled the mansion halls more often than the toll of the bells.
Sweet. Charming. Poisonous.
She always found a reason to come, an excuse as fragile as lace. Delivering herbs from her garden. Asking after some long-forgotten council member. Pretending she had business with the pack’s matrons. And each time, Lucien welcomed her.
Not warmly. Not with joy. But with a steadiness that still twisted in my chest like a knife. His attention was hers, and his gaze always followed when she moved, his head inclining slightly when she spoke, his lips curving into faint smiles that were never offered to me.
The pack adored her, of course. They saw her as the Alpha’s rightful queen, and their favor was loud, shameless. Whispers trailed after me like smoke every time I passed.
Wr
