SERAPHINA’S POV
Kieran’s hair was wet, plastered to his forehead and temples. His shirt clung to his body, rain dripping from the hem, and his breath came in heavy bursts, as if he’d been running.
Over me, he held an umbrella—large, black, sheltering.
Sheltering me, not him.
His eyes locked onto mine, and I saw the storm of emotions swirling beneath the stoic mask he normally wore.
Panic. Fear. Relief so intense it almost looked painful.
“Sera,” he breathed, his voice rough, strained. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Something inside me cracked at the sound of his voice. At the fact that he had come, that he had searched, that he had found me.
The swing beneath me shifted slightly as I exhaled, a trembling, broken sound I couldn’t hold back.
His jaw clen
