Seraphina POV:
The door hissed open. Light blinded me.
I was stiff, frost coating my eyelashes. Dante stood in the doorway in a tuxedo, looking like an executioner prince.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, seeing my blue lips.
"Get up," he commanded.
I used the wall to drag myself upright.
"Have you learned your lesson?"
I looked at him. He was a stranger.
"Yes," I rasped.
"Admit you tried to hurt her."
I could have fought. But I was tired.
"I admit," I said slowly, "that I made a mistake. I admit that I saved the wrong person."
Dante frowned. "What?"
"I'm sorry I pushed her," I lied. It was the key to the cage.
He nodded. "Go back to the estate. Clean yourself up. Tonight is the Engagement Party."
Back in the attic, I showered, the hot water stinging like needles.
I pulled a box from under my bed. My pathetic treasure chest. Dried flowers. A stolen photo of Dante. My diary.
I dumped it all into a black trash bag. I dragged it to the kitchen dumpsters.
The bag ripped. The photo of Dante slid out onto a pile of coffee grounds.
"Seraphina?"
Dante and Isabella were taking a shortcut through the garden.
Dante stopped. He stared at his own face in the garbage.
He rubbed his chest, wincing. His wolf whined—a pinch of inexplicable loss.
"Just taking out the trash, Alpha," I said. My tone was dead.
"Come on, darling," Isabella pulled him away.
Dante looked at me, confusion warring with arrogance, before letting her lead him away.
The ballroom was suffocating.
I stood in the shadows. Dante took the stage.
"Tonight," he announced, "I claim my destiny."
He placed the Heart of the Luna diamond on Isabella's finger.
The crowd howled.
I looked down at my hands. My fingernails dug into my palms until blood welled up.
Red. Real.
I wasn't a ghost. I was alive.
Looking at them, I felt... nothing. The jealousy was gone. Replaced by a vast, arctic silence.
I licked the blood from my palm.
Let them have their fairy tale, I thought. I'm writing a tragedy.
