Seraphina POV
The morning sun filtering through the single, smudged window of my new apartment offered no warmth. My cramped studio smelled of dust and stale human air, completely devoid of the rich, earthy scents of a Pack. But worse than the unfamiliarity was the heavy, suffocating ache in my chest.
The Terminal Soul Wither was accelerating. A low-grade fever burned beneath my skin, and my limbs felt like they were filled with lead. The physical toll of severing a Fated Mate bond was dragging my wolfless body toward a quiet, inevitable end.
My phone buzzed on the cheap nightstand. The caller ID read Cassia Blackwood.
I stared at it, my chest tightening. Damien's younger sister had never called me unless she needed a scapegoat. Reluctantly, I swiped to answer.
"Seraphina," Cassia's voice dripped with the kind of careless entitlement only a spoiled Alpha's daughter possessed. "I need you at the training grounds at two o'clock. Gamma is throwing a fit about my missed quarterly assessments."
I closed my eyes, pressing a trembling hand to my feverish forehead. "Cassia, I don't live at the manor anymore. I have a medical appointment."
"Oh, please. What could a wolfless Omega possibly be busy with?" she scoffed, the disdain palpable through the speaker. "I was busy training with Isabelle. She's practically our Luna already, and she actually knows how to fight. Damien already mind-linked me his approval for you to take the reprimand. Consider it a favor. It's a good opportunity for you to make yourself useful and maybe win back a fraction of my brother's attention."
She hung up before I could reply.
I dropped the phone. Damien had mind-linked his approval. To him, my time, my dignity, and my very existence were just tools to manage his family's minor inconveniences.
I forced myself out of bed. I couldn't afford to care about Cassia's assessments. I needed to get to the neutral zone clinic before my body completely gave out.
The human medical clinic was a sterile, blindingly white building that reeked of bleach and rubbing alcohol. There were no Pack crests here, no Healers with warm hands and soothing auras. Just cold tiles and fluorescent lights that made my head throb violently.
Every step across the lobby felt like wading through wet cement. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. The fever was spiking, turning the ambient noise of the waiting room into a muffled, underwater hum.
I reached out to grab the edge of the reception desk, but my fingers slipped. The floor rushed up to meet me.
Just as the cold tile struck my cheek, a familiar, panicked voice pierced through the ringing in my ears.
"Sera! Oh my goddess, Sera!"
Kira.
Before I could process why my best friend was here, the darkness swallowed me whole.
I woke up to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The harsh scent of antiseptic was still there, but beneath it was the comforting, sharp scent of pine and ozone-Kira's wolf.
I blinked against the harsh light, finding myself in a small, private clinic room. An IV dripped clear fluid into my arm.
Kira was pacing at the foot of the bed, her hands clenched into fists. When she saw my eyes open, she rushed to my side, her expression a volatile mix of profound relief and murderous rage.
"You look like a ghost, Sera," she breathed, gently brushing a strand of hair from my sweaty forehead. Then, her eyes flashed with the golden hue of her inner wolf. "I saw the news about the moonlight fireworks festival. I know what he did."
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper. "Kira, it's not-"
"Don't defend him!" Kira snapped, her voice trembling with fury. "I knew you were overworking yourself for that Pack, but this? He drove you to exhaustion, and for what? He's rejecting you to Mark that bitch?!"
I stared at her, realizing the massive gap in her understanding. She thought Damien had kicked me out to make room for Isabelle Vance. She didn't know about the Terminal Soul Wither, and I intended to keep it that way. If she knew the Mate-bond was literally killing me, she would march into Crestfall Manor and challenge an Alpha she couldn't beat.
"No, Kira," I said, my voice weak but steady. "Damien didn't kick me out. I left. I am the one asking for the Rejection."
Kira froze. The golden glow in her eyes vanished, replaced by pure, unadulterated shock. "You... you left him?"
"I'm done," I whispered, the truth feeling lighter than air. "I'm completely done with the Blackwoods."
A slow, brilliant smile spread across Kira's face. The pity in her eyes vanished, replaced by a fierce, protective pride.
"Good," she said firmly, grabbing my hand. "Because you are wasting your brilliant mind playing house for a man who doesn't see you. Caleb Vance is expanding Aegis Dynamics. He needs a lead strategist, and we both know what Elder Alistair used to say about your tactical scores."
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Caleb Vance. The monitor beside me beeped a little faster as the ghosts of my past sacrifices suddenly crowded into the sterile room.
