Chapter: 13

KIERAN'S POV The scent of Seraphina’s blood still haunted me.

I couldn't purge that scene—rogues swarming, Daniel safe with my parents, Celeste needing my protection after years of neglecting combat training. But when those fangs flashed toward Sera... when her blood flooded the air, thick with pain...

My heart stopped.

Every Alpha instinct roared to shield her—my ex-wife, my son's mother, the mate I'd never publicly claimed. Yet before I could move, another shadow got involved first.

I should've been grateful when that stranger tore the rogues apart. Should've thanked the moon when he saved Sera’s life before it was too late.

But watching him shift back, cradling her against his bare chest, a snarl ripped from my throat before I could choke it back. My canines throbbed, my vision bleeding amber.

"Mine." My wolf, Ashar, snarled.

The word was a lie. I had no right to it. Not after the divorce papers. Not after a decade of denying her my mark. Denied her the title of Luna.

What kind of Alpha claims ownership over a mate he never truly claimed?

So why did the sight of his hands on her waist make me want to paint these fucking trees with his entrails?

"How is she?" My mother's voice on the phone dragged me back to the present. "Daniel wants to know."

I glanced at the closed door of the treatment room in the ER in front of me, a cocktail of unfamiliar emotions stirring in my stomach. How was she? I didn't know. I'd seen her dress in tatters, seen the blood pouring down her back, but I wasn't the hero who'd saved her. Wasn't even the one who brought her here. Just the useless ex-husband waiting for news.

No updates yet. No one had come to tell us anything.

She had to be alive. She needed to be alive. How would I explain to Daniel if anything worse had happened to Sera? How would I justify protecting another woman instead of his defenseless, wolfless mother?

Self-loathing burned through me. Whatever had passed between Sera and me, hurting Daniel was the last thing we wanted.

"She's—" The door opened, and Seraphina walked out.

Her right hand was in a sling, bandages poking out from under the rolled-up sleeve of the shirt. Because she didn't have a wolf, she wouldn't be able to heal as fast as werewolves did.

The thought of her having to nurse the pain and deal with injury like a mundane task gave me an uncomfortable, gnawing feeling.

Her head was turned inward, smiling at whoever was in the room—a doctor or nurse. "Thank you... I will... Yep." Then she turned, and our eyes met.

I'd always thought Seraphina had beautiful eyes—flecks of green swirling in blue, like fish in a cerulean sea. For ten long years, I had deliberately avoided looking into them too deeply. Refused to acknowledge the devotion that once shimmered in their depths.

I told myself I couldn't forget she was the woman who'd ruined my life. Couldn't surrender again to that dangerous allure and betray my love for Celeste. But now, seeing those same eyes regard me with nothing but glacial indifference, my heart clenched.

Her smile fell. It was like that sea had frozen over, and there was nothing—not even anger for failing to protect her—just icy regard.

"Sera!"

I'd almost forgotten Margaret next to me. She had been sitting in the corner, silently praying to the Moon Goddess since they'd wheeled Sera in. Two hospital visits in one week—I doubted she could handle losing another family member.