Chapter 4

SERAPHINA'S POV

The alcohol hit my throat hard, but at least the burn reminded me I could still feel something.

"Seraphina, another round!" Angela lifted her glass high, her vision already swimming. "Tonight we drink till we drop!"

The bar pulsed with noise. Lights flashed and swirled overhead, cutting through bodies that moved frantically, everyone dancing like they could shake loose whatever weighed them down.

"That bastard," Angela swayed closer, breathing fumes in my direction, "I'd rip him apart."

I grabbed my glass and knocked it back. The liquor burned its way down, spreading heat through my chest and stomach.

"Forget him," I said. "Thirty days from now, he's nothing to me."

"Exactly!" Angela's palm hit the table. "Good riddance! What kind of husband lets some woman walk all over his mate in her own house..."

She stopped mid-sentence, eyes going wide, fixed on something across the room.

"Seraphina, over there..."

I turned to look. It felt like someone dumped ice water straight over my head.

There on the dance floor stood Caspian Thornley, his arm locked around Rose's waist, bodies pressed close. She wore red tonight—a short skirt that showed off her legs, dark hair spilling down her back, looking almost unreal under the strobing lights. Her head tilted back while she gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, lips parted, mouth moving.

Caspian Thornley bent down, wearing a smile I'd never seen on him before—soft, unguarded.

The crowd around them erupted. Music swelled louder, faster. Then Rose pushed up on her toes, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him right there while everyone cheered.

Caspian Thornley went still for one second. But he didn't pull away.

Something in my chest twisted tight. For a moment I couldn't pull in enough air.

"Those two pieces of garbage!" Angela slammed her glass down, already halfway out of her seat. "I'm gonna tear them apart!"

I caught her arm hard.

"Don't." My own voice sounded strange—too calm, unnaturally so.

"Have you lost your mind?" Angela stared at me. "They're doing that right in front of everyone and you're just gonna take it?"

"Not taking it," I said, digging my phone from my bag and snapping photos of the dance floor. "Collecting evidence."

The photos came out clear—Caspian Thornley and Rose locked together, kissing deep, faces visible, the crowd around them obvious. Perfect proof that Caspian Thornley cheated during our marriage.

"Let's leave," I said, phone back in my bag, already pulling Angela toward the exit. "This place stinks. We'll go somewhere else."

We ended up at another bar, quieter this time. At least we wouldn't get our eardrums blown out.

"You were so steady back there," Angela said after ordering two whiskeys. "I thought you might collapse trying to hold it together."

"It doesn't hurt anymore," I told her, and meant it. Seeing them like that hadn't even hurt as much as I'd expected. Maybe because my heart was already dead. Maybe because I'd already let go the moment I signed those papers.

"About that divorce agreement..." Angela dropped her voice low. "He really didn't notice anything?"

"Signed it faster than anything," I said with a harsh laugh. "Didn't even glance at it, just scribbled his name."

"He deserves whatever's coming!" Angela spat. "A man like that should spend his whole life regretting it!"

I reached for my glass, about to drink, when something caught my eye at the edge of my vision.

My hand froze in midair.

In a booth not far off sat a man talking to someone, turned partway to the side. He wore a dark shirt tailored close, sleeves rolled up past his forearms, showing the clean lines of muscle underneath.

Light fell across him at an angle, highlighting the lean strength visible through the fabric. His profile cut sharp—high nose, thin lips curved in the barest hint of a smile.

Adam Fluer.

Five years gone, and he looked the same—no, better than before, more refined somehow, carrying himself with even more presence.

People clustered around him, faces eager and careful at once, keeping just the right distance. He had that quality that drew people close but kept them from getting too near.

My heartbeat kicked up suddenly. My palms went damp.

"Seraphina?" Angela noticed something wrong, following where I was looking. "Wow, that guy's gorgeous! And clearly loaded... Wait, do you know him?"

"We should go." I set down my glass and grabbed my bag, already standing. "Somewhere else."

"What? Why?" Angela looked confused but followed me out anyway.

Outside, the night air hit cooler against my skin. I pulled in several deep breaths, trying to slow my racing pulse.

"What's going on?" Angela caught my arm. "You're acting weird. You do know that man, don't you?"

I stayed quiet for a while. Finally nodded.

"His name's Adam Fluer," I said quietly. "He's... like a brother. We grew up together."

"Brother?" Angela blinked. "Like, actual brother?"

"No," I shook my head. "His parents and mine were close friends. My dad's pack bordered theirs. So,, they were good friends.. Our families stayed tight, and Adam looked after me like a brother from when I was little. Then..."

I stopped, feeling my throat close up.

"Then when I was sixteen, my parents and his parents died in a car crash. After that, Adam became more than family—like a father and brother combined, handling everything for me, paying for school..."

"That sounds good though," Angela said, still puzzled. "Why'd you run when you saw him?"

I closed my eyes as memories I'd buried for five years came flooding back.

That day I'd left school early, wanting to surprise Adam when I got home. But when I opened the door, I heard sounds coming from his room—breathing, low and strained. I stood frozen, not understanding at first, until I heard his voice, rough and thick with something I'd never heard before, saying over and over—

"Seraphina... Seraphina..."

My name.

I panicked and ran to my room, heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst. My thoughts scattered everywhere, no idea what to do or think.

Adam didn't come home for three days after that.

I spent those three days lying in bed, replaying everything in my head—his voice, how it sounded when he said my name, what he was doing... My face burned hot every time I thought about it, but underneath that, something felt unexpectedly sweet.

I'd figured it out by then. I liked him.

Not the way a sister likes a brother. The way a woman likes a man.

I decided I'd wait for him to come back, then tell him I felt the same, that we could try being together, regardless of whether the moon goddess chose us as mates or not.

But on the third day, Adam came home with a woman.

Her name was Scarlett—twenty-five years old, curves everywhere, sexy and confident in ways I'd never be, every movement deliberate. Adam introduced her as his fiancée, told me to call her Scarlett too.

That moment, I felt like the world's biggest fool.

Adam came back with his friend Caspian Thornley trailing behind. Caspian was impressive too—good-looking, smooth, always gentle and thoughtful around me.

One day he asked me out alone. We talked for hours.

"Seraphina, I've actually liked you for a long time," he said, looking at me with soft eyes. "I know you've always seen Adam as family, but you need to understand—he can't feel that way about you. What he needs is someone who can advance his career, not... not a girl like you."

"But I'm different," Caspian continued, taking my hand. "I really love you. I want to marry you, take care of you forever."

Back then I was still torn up over Adam, and hearing those words felt like grabbing onto something solid when I was drowning.

I agreed to marry Caspian. We rushed through preparations and I married him almost like I was running away from something.

Since then, Adam and I never spoke again. Five years, not once.

"So..." Angela's mouth fell open. "You married Caspian to get away from him?"

I nodded, smiling without humor.

Just then my phone rang.

Caspian Thornley.

I stared at his name lighting up the screen, something tightening in my chest. It's late—shouldn't he be at that bar wrapped around Rose? Why's he calling me?

Unless... he found the divorce papers?

I answered, keeping my voice level: "Hello?"

"Come home." Caspian's voice came through cold and tight with anger barely held back. "Now."