The scent of lilacs and fresh morning dew filled the air as Seraphine pushed open the door to her flower shop. "Seren Blooms"was carved delicately on the wooden sign above — named after a name that haunted her in dreams she never spoke of. A name that didn't feel like hers, and yet... belonged to her soul.
Sunlight spilled through the front windows, brushing over rows of tulips, peonies, and blood-red roses. The colors were vivid, like paint on a living canvas. Seraphine took a deep breath, grounding herself in the now, though her nights had been far from peaceful.
The full moon had come and gone, but its memory lingered like bruises on her soul. Another dream — too vivid to be called a dream, too painful to be dismissed. The battlefield, the storm of betrayal, his voice — Serenyth.
Her
