SERAPHINA’S POV
Even though I had already seen fragments of it inside Celeste’s memories, hearing her recount everything aloud still unsettled something deep inside me.
When I was in her mind earlier, the memories came in flashes—broken images tangled with emotion.
Chains biting into skin. The metallic smell of blood. Olivia collapsing to the ground. Kharis fading away.
But now those pieces had been arranged into a full story. The truth carried a very different weight when it was spoken out loud.
And sitting across from Celeste as she finished speaking, the room felt strangely small despite its size.
Soft lamplight cast long shadows across the walls. The curtains had been drawn shut, sealing us away from the rest of the house.
The air felt heavy, almost suffocating, as if the room itself had absorbed every ugly word Celeste had just spoken.
For several long seconds after she finished, no one said anything.
For once, she didn’t look composed.
Her shoulders were tight, and the proud tilt of her chin was held a little too rigidly. Strands of her hair clung to the dampness at her temples, and her gaze kept drifting toward Celeste still tried to carry herself with the same defiant poise she had always worn like armor.
But the effort showed now.
The story she had just told had shaken her far more than she wanted us to see.
Across from her, Ethan stood near the dresser, one hand braced against the polished wood.
His shoulders were rigid. His breathing was slow.
I could see the effort it was costing him to hold himself together.
It was probably the same effort I was exerting.
Because while Celeste spoke, the memory of a long-forgotten dream surfaced.
The one I’d had not long after she disappeared—dark water on concrete, the echo of dripping somewhere underground, and Celeste huddled in the corner beside a wall of chains.
At the time, I had dismissed it as nothing more than a nightmare. But now, listening to Celeste describe the truck, the restraints, the filthy compound...
My hands clenched at my sides, nails carving crescents into my palms.
That dream hadn’t been entirely false after all.
If I had taken it seriously back then...
Would Olivia still be alive?
Would Kharis still exist?
Would Catherine have ever gotten involved?
‘You cannot change what has already passed.’ Alina’s voice brushed gently through my thoughts. ‘What matters is what lies ahead.’
I exhaled slowly.
She was right.
Dwelling on the past wouldn’t solve anything now.
Ethan straightened slowly, dragging a hand down his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion from his expression.
When he looked up again, his eyes had hardened.
“After Catherine took you from that place,” he said, his voice quieter than before but no less tense, “what happened next?”
Celeste lifted her gaze toward him.
For a moment, she didn’t answer.
Then she shrugged lightly. “As I said, she brought me to the Maldives.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “And?”
Celeste leaned back against the headboard, lips flat.
“She had a project,” she said.
Ethan frowned. “What kind of project?”
“An experimental one.”
The unease in my chest deepened.
“Explain,” I said quietly.
Celeste glanced at me briefly before continuing.
“She believed certain wolves possessed unique energetic properties,” she said. “Properties that could be studied.”
Her gaze lingered on me for a moment.
Then she added casually, “Amplified, even.”
Ethan pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “So, you let her experiment on you?”
Celeste tilted her head slightly. “Of course I did.”
His fist slammed into the wooden dresser with a sharp crack that echoed through the bedroom.
“How could you be that stupid?” he snapped.



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