SERAPHINA’S POV
The darkness was weightless. Like drifting in warm water.
I vaguely remembered collapsing. Vaguely remembered rain and pain and Kieran’s ragged, panicked voice calling my name.
But I felt detached from those memories, from that life.
Floating. Free.
Then, suddenly, the darkness flickered, and memories began stitching themselves across the void like shards of stained glass catching light.
A laugh—Daniel’s, age four, chubby cheeks smeared with frosting as he proudly plunged his hand into his birthday cake.
The Snowfield Arena; the rush of adrenaline as I mounted Ashar’s majestic form.
The night my father died; the cold look in Kieran’s eyes as he said, “I want a divorce.”
The thunder of applause and cheers as a disembodied voice announced, “And th
