SERAPHINA’S POV

Kieran kept one hand at the small of my back as we walked back to our room, not pressing hard, not guiding me as though I might break, but staying close enough that the warmth of his palm cut through the cold unease clinging to my skin.

I found comfort in it. But beneath that comfort, something darker twisted.

Every time his fingers brushed near the edge of those hidden silver markings, I remembered the way his body had gone rigid when he saw how far they had spread.

By the time we reached our room, my chest felt too tight.

The door shut behind us with a soft click, and for a few seconds, neither of us moved.

The bedroom was washed in pale moonlight slipping through the curtains. The bed was neatly made, untouched since morning. The familiar scent of cedar, lavender, clean linen, and Kieran filled the space—a warmth that made the cold inside me feel even sharper.

I stood in the middle of the room and stared at nothing.

Kieran drew in a long, deep breath.

“Sera,” he said softly.

My control, which had held through the ride back, the interrogation room, Alois’ warning, the long, silent walk back, cracked down the center.

“I froze you.”

My voice sounded strange—hoarse and broken and weak.

He didn’t miss a beat. “You didn’t mean to.”

I shook my head, turning to face him. Frustration and fear tangled together until I could barely tell them apart.

“If a blade slips from someone’s hand and cuts another person, the wound still bleeds.”

Kieran’s expression tightened. “That is not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” I whispered. “I keep telling myself I’m learning control, that the Archives gave me structure, that I’ve been taught enough to handle what I’m becoming. But tonight, I lost it. I got angry, and yeah, I broke Catherine’s restraints like nothing, but that same power spilled out, affecting everyone near me.”

The words came faster now, each one pulled from the raw place I had been trying not to touch.

“And what happens next time, Kieran? What happens if I lose control during a meeting? During a battle? Around Daniel?”

I saw the brief flash in Kieran’s eyes—the instinctive terror of a father imagining his son in danger.

It nearly broke me.

I looked away.

“I don’t know what I am turning into.”

“You are turning into yourself,” he said.

A bitter laugh trembled out of me. “Poetic. But it isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the truth.”

His hands rose slowly, giving me time to recoil before he touched me. When I didn’t, his palms settled against my shoulders, warm and steady.

“I am not going to stand here and pretend tonight did not frighten me,” he said quietly.

My breath caught.

His thumbs brushed once along my shoulders, grounding.

“It did. Seeing you come back from that puppet’s mind with silver in your eyes and the entire room trapped around you...” His voice lowered. “Yes, Sera. It frightened me.”

Pain opened behind my ribs.

I tried to step back, but his hands tightened—not hard enough to restrain me, only enough to ask me to stay.

“But I was not afraid of you.”

I looked up at him.

His gaze held mine, fierce and unflinching.

“I was afraid for you.”

The words sank into me slowly.

Kieran’s expression softened, but the strength in it did not. “I was afraid because I saw how much it cost you. Because I couldn’t reach you when you stood right in front of me. Because every time your power grows, it tries to take a piece of you.”

My eyes burned.

He lifted one hand and cupped my cheek.

“But I have never been afraid of you.”

A shaky breath escaped me. “Maybe you should be.”

“No.”

“Kieran—”

“No,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “Do not ask me to fear the woman I love.”

The words hit me so sharply that for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

Kieran leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching mine. “You could freeze the world. You could burn it all to ash, and I would still be here, Sera. Do you hear me?”

“But what if—”

“What if nothing,” he countered. “There is no version of you I will ever flinch from.”

My throat closed.

The conviction in his voice hurt as much as it healed.

My fingers curled around his wrists. “Maybe you don’t fear me, but...do you resent it?”

His brows drew together. “Resent what?”

“My power.” I swallowed, forcing the words out before cowardice could take them back. “What it’s becoming. What I’m becoming.”

The confusion in his expression slowly gave way to understanding.

I looked down, unable to hold his gaze. “You’re an Alpha. Not just any Alpha—Kieran Blackthorne. Your life is built on strength, command, protection, being the one others look to when everything falls apart.”

My fingers tightened around his wrist. “No Alpha likes being second to anyone.”

Silence followed, long enough that dread began to gather in my chest again.

Then Kieran exhaled.

“Sera.”

The softness in his voice almost undid me.

I lifted my eyes reluctantly.

His eyes had darkened. But with...pain. As if it hurt that I’d asked the question at all.

“Do you think I want a fragile Luna?” His thumb brushed along my cheek. “Do you think I want a mate who survives by standing in my shadow?”

“No, but—”

“I spent years making mistakes with you,” he said, voice roughening. “Assuming duty was enough, distance was safer, silence would protect everyone from the damage I’d caused. I’ll carry that regret for the rest of my life. But one thing I will not do is ask you to make yourself smaller so I can feel bigger.”

My chest squeezed painfully.

“Ashar and I want to protect you,” he continued. “We always will. That instinct is never going away. When danger comes near you or Daniel, everything in me wants to tear it apart before either of you has to see it. I want to be the wall between you and every threat. But wanting to protect you does not mean I want to cage you.”

His eyes held mine, steady and bright in the moonlit room. “You were never meant to be hidden behind me, Sera.”

Something inside me trembled.

“You are my mate. My Luna. Daniel’s mother. A silver wolf. A psychic." His voice deepened, each word striking something tender and battered inside me.

"A fucking champion who has conquered grief, humiliation, betrayal, and every cruel thing this world tried to use to make you bow.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks. He brushed them away before they reached my jaw.

“So no,” he said. “I do not resent your power.”

“No?”

“No.” His mouth curved, though his eyes remained serious. “I may hate that I can’t always shield you. I may hate what your path demands. I may argue when you push too hard, and I may lose my mind when you decide to interrogate a puppet right after chasing traitors through the woods.”

My mouth trembled.

“But resent you or what you are?” He shook his head. “Never.”

A sob slipped out of me before I could stop it.

Kieran pulled me into his arms.

I went willingly, my hands fisting in the back of his shirt as I buried my face against his chest. His arms closed around me with quiet strength, and I let him take all my weight.

His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear. I clung to that sound with everything I had.

“I was so scared,” I whispered.

His lips pressed against my hair. “I know.”

“I keep thinking about the vision,” I admitted, the words muffled against his chest. “The ash. The blood. You on your knees. Every time something changes in me, every time this power grows, I wonder if I’m walking closer to that future instead of farther away from it.”

His body went still.

Not frozen.

Listening.

I closed my eyes tightly. “And the worst part is that I want the bond back so badly sometimes it hurts. I want to stop being afraid of marking each other. I want to stop measuring every touch against the possibility that it might lead to your death.”

Kieran’s arms tightened around me.

“I know.”

The roughness in his voice told me he understood too well.

We’d danced around the wound so many times, neither of us needed to name it. The mark we couldn’t share. The mate bond fate created and trauma severed.

The love between us, real and deep and forced to wait at the edge of something unfinished.

I lifted my head slowly.

Moonlight traced the sharp lines of his face, softening the shadows beneath his eyes. He looked tired. Worried. Beautiful in a way that hurt because it reminded me of everything I had to lose.

“I need this fight to end,” I whispered.

His hand cupped the side of my face again.

“So do I.”

“I want Catherine gone. Marcus gone. Jack dragged out of whatever hole he’s hiding in. I want Lucian free or exposed or...” My voice faltered because even now, after everything, I did not know which ending I wanted for him.

“I want Daniel to sleep without dreaming of danger. I want Celeste to stop flinching at ghosts. I want Aaron and the others to have their memories back. I want Brett to get closure. I want my mother back, safe and sound.”

Kieran’s thumb moved slowly along my cheek.

“And after all that?” he asked softly.

My breath trembled.

“After all that, I want you.”

His eyes darkened with emotion.

“I want you without fear,” I said. “I want to stand under the moon and choose you without some vision dragging us apart. I want to reforge what fate gave us before I let pain destroy it. I want your mark.”

My voice broke, but I forced myself to continue. “I want you to have mine. Fully. Freely. Without blood. Without ash. Without the promise of death waiting behind it.”

Kieran’s throat worked. For once, he seemed to struggle for words.

Then he lowered his forehead to mine.

“You already have me,” he whispered.

My eyes closed. “I know.”

“No.” His voice turned rougher. “Listen to me. Mark or no mark, bond reforged or not, you have me. There is no version of this war, no version of your power, no prophecy, no fear, no mistake that changes that.”

I rose onto my toes and kissed him. Soft. Slow. A promise pressed into silence.

Kieran held me as though I were something precious and dangerous and beloved all at once.

When the kiss ended, I rested my forehead against his chest again, breathing him in until the storm inside me quieted.

His hand moved gently over my back, careful near the silver markings, as if he could soothe the restless power beneath my skin through touch alone.

For a long while, we simply stood there, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear.

And I made a promise to myself.

When this was over—when the blood dried, the dead properly buried, the stolen returned, when Catherine’s shadow no longer stretched across every life we loved—I would stand beneath the moon with Kieran Blackthorne.

And this time, I would not stop fate from binding us fully.

I would not let fear be the hand around my throat.

I would choose him with everything I was.

And gods help anyone who tried to take that future from us.