Chapter 7
Sera's POV
I pulled my hand back like I'd been burned. The warmth of his touch lingered on my skin, and I could feel it spreading through my body.
No.
I knew what this was. I had read about it, studied it and learned to recognize the signs in other people. But I had never experienced it myself, not once, in all my years of marriage.
This was a matebond.
I had felt it the moment I touched him, the moment my healing energy moved into his body. But I hadn't understood what I was feeling until now. The recognition of it hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs.
I stumbled backward, away from him.
"No," I said, and my voice came out wrong, thin and shaken. "No, this isn't possible."
He was still staring at me, his eyes dark and intense, his hand still reaching toward me like he wanted to pull me back.
"This isn't possible," I said again, louder this time. "I am married."
But even as I said the words, I knew they weren't true in the way that mattered. Tristan was my husband, yes. He was the Alpha of my pack, the man I had pledged myself to.
But he had never been my true mate. I had always known that, somewhere deep down. I just hadn't wanted to admit it.
And now this stranger was standing in front of me, and my body was reacting to him in ways it had never reacted to Tristan.
"I can't do this," I said, backing away further. "I can't be here right now."
"Wait," he said, his eyes pleading.
"No."
I turned and ran.
I didn't stop running until I reached the hospital wing. My legs were shaking and my breath came in gasps.
I leaned against the wall outside my room, trying to calm down.
A matebond. I had found my true mate in the middle of the night, in the middle of the woods, while he was bleeding out from a poison wound.
It was absurd and impossible.
Dr. Angel opened the door and found me there, pale and shaking.
"Sera," she said, her voice sharp with concern. "Where have you been? You shouldn't be out of bed. Your body is still recovering from the fall, and you need rest."
I opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came out. What was I supposed to tell her?
That I had found a dying stranger in the woods and pulled poison from his body and discovered he was my mate?
"I needed air," I said finally. "I just needed some air."
"You needed air," she repeated, her tone making it clear she didn't believe me. "You lost a child less than twenty-four hours ago, Sera. You should not be wandering around the grounds in the middle of the night. Your body is fragile right now. Your wolf is grieving. You need to be resting, not running around in the dark."
"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. I just needed to think."
"Think about what?" she asked, but I could tell she wasn't really asking. She was already steering me back into the room, her hand firm on my elbow. "You need to get back in bed. You need to rest. Whatever you were doing out there, it can wait."
She guided me to the bed and I climbed in, pulling the blanket over my legs. My body was trembling, and I couldn't make it stop.
"I'm going to get you something warm to drink," Dr. Angel said, her voice softer now. "And then I'm going to ask you again what you were really doing out there."
"Nothing," I said. "It was nothing."
She didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue. She just shook her head and left the room.
I lay there in the silence, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. The warmth in my chest was still there, that strange pull toward the stranger in the woods.
This couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening. Not now, not after everything else.
Tristan appeared in the doorway a few minutes later.
He had a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. It looked cheap, like the kind you pick up at a gas station at midnight.
"Sera," he said. "I'm sorry I left."
I said nothing. I just looked at him like he was a stranger standing in my room.
"Willow needed me," he said. "She was scared, she thought it was her fault, and I..."
"Where is she now?" I asked.
"With Mira. She's calmer."
"I needed you too," I said.
The words landed exactly the way I meant them to. I watched something soften behind his eyes, watched the flowers lower slightly in his hand like he'd forgotten he was holding them.
"Sera, I didn't mean to—"
"I know you didn't mean to," I said. "That's almost worse. Now please leave me the fuck alone."
He did, for a moment. He sat down and looked at me and then tried again a few minutes later, sitting carefully at the edge of the bed.
"Can we talk about the baby?" he said quietly. "I want to understand. I want to grieve this with you."
"You don't get to grieve this with me," I said. "You weren't here for it. You weren't here for any of it."
"Sera—"
"Please leave," I said.
"I want to—"
"I said leave, Tristan."
He looked at me for a long moment, and something in my face must have convinced him there was no arguing. He finally stood, set the flowers on the table beside my bed, and walked out without another word.
I lay there once the door shut behind him, staring at the ceiling, and I felt something settle inside me.
I picked up my phone.
"Renee," I said, when she answered. "I need you to gather every piece of clothing I ever made for Tristan. Every shirt, every jacket, everything I sewed with my own hands over the past ten years. Bring it to the courtyard tonight."
"Luna, are you sure—"
"I'm sure," I said. "Bring matches too."
Tristan found me standing in the courtyard two hours later. A pile of folded clothing sat at my feet, and fire was already crackling in the fire pit Renee had prepared.
"Sera, what are you doing?"
I picked up the first shirt from the pile. It was the one I had made for him during our second year of marriage, back when we had no money for anything store-bought.
Back when I had taught myself to sew just so he would have something decent to wear to Council meetings.
I remembered his face the first time he put it on. I remembered him telling me it was the finest thing he'd ever owned.
I looked at him now, standing there in disbelief.
"Sera," he said again. "Stop. Talk to me."
I didn't answer him.
I threw them all into the fire.
