SERAPHINA'S POV
I returned from the lawyer's office feeling like my soul had been put through a shredder.
Walking through the front door gave me a strange kind of anxiety. Maybe it was because I knew this was one of the last times I would be here again.
I let my gaze roam the foyer, taking in every detail—Daniel's baby picture on the mantel, the portrait taken of Kieran when he was ordained Alpha, the picture of Daniel and me on his fifth birthday.
There were no pictures of Kieran and me. Shocker.
I headed straight for Kieran’s study. I had left early that morning, desperate to avoid him, to spare myself a repeat of last night’s devastation. I'd also been avoiding Daniel, I think.
How could I look into those innocent eyes and explain that his family was breaking apart?
My hand paused mid-knock when I saw Daniel itting in a chair in front of Kieran's desk like a visitor. Of course. Alpha Kieran, ever efficient. Last night he’d said he would explain our divorce to Daniel himself, and he’d wasted no time.
My heart lodged itself in my throat. I’d missed the conversation, but I would never miss the sight of my son turning to me, his eyes swimming with unshed tears.
“Is it true, Mom?” His voice was small, breaking on the last word. “You and Dad… you’re getting divorced?”
He was fighting bravely to keep the tears at bay, but the tremor in his words betrayed him. It shattered something deep inside me, leaving me feeling like the worst kind of criminal. He wasn’t even ten. How could we force this cruelty upon him?
Yet another part of me, a colder, more logical part, whispered a painful truth: Was it better to let him live a lie? To grow up in a home where his parents felt nothing but emptiness for each other? And what happens when Celeste inevitably walks back into Kieran’s life? How would I explain that then?
“Daniel…” My voice cracked before I could form a complete sentence. All the resolve I’d built on the drive home crumbled to dust.
Then, Kieran spoke. His tone was calm, infuriatingly final. “Daniel, this is a decision between adults.”
“So I just get told, is that it?” Daniel’s small hands clenched into fists on his knees. “Grandpa Edward is barely gone, and now you’re doing this. Did anyone think about me?”
The raw anger in his voice was a physical blow to my chest. But Kieran remained unmoved, his Alpha aura subtly thickening the air.
“Son, sometimes things just happen. Learning to accept difficult realities is part of becoming strong. It’s a necessary lesson for a future Alpha.”
It was the voice of the Alpha, not just the father. And for the first time, Daniel didn’t submit.
He swiped angrily at his eyes, shoved himself out of the chair, and glared at both of us. “Fine! Do whatever you want!”
He bolted from the room before I could stop him. I reached out, a desperate attempt to pull him into an embrace, to soothe the hurt, but he dodged my touch with a furious shake of his head. The rejection was a fresh wound, deeper than any Kieran had ever inflicted.
Kieran’s eyes flicked toward the hallway. “Gavin,” he called, his voice low. His loyal Beta appeared instantly at the door. “Ensure Daniel doesn’t leave the grounds. Give him space, but watch him.”
Gavin nodded silently and disappeared. Kieran then turned his focus back to me, the stern Alpha mask still firmly in place, though a flicker of something else—impatience? weariness?—haunted his dark eyes.
“So much for explaining it to him gently,” I said, my voice thick with accusation I could no longer contain.
“He’ll understand,” Kieran replied, his voice cool. “He just needs time to process it.”
His gaze dropped, landing on the legal folder I was clutching so tightly my knuckles had turned white. A faint, unreadable emotion passed over his handsome, usually impassive face.
"I assume those are the papers?"
I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous.
"My lawyer drafted the agreement, stating the custody terms." I moved forward and placed the document on the desk. "Everything's clearly outlined—visitation schedules, holidays, education decisions..."
Kieran opened the folder and pulled out the documents. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his eyes darted over the pages.
"Um, I also met with a realtor she suggested," I continued, clasping my hands before me. "She showed me a lovely house about thirty minutes from here. It's fully furnished—ready to move in—and the mortgage is very reasonable. It's in neutral territory, so you can visit anyt—"
"Where's the fire?"
I paused, frowning at Kieran. "What?"
"I'm the one who asked for a divorce." He dropped the papers on the desk with a scoff."Yet here you are with moving plans and legal documents before the ink's even dry. Were you counting down the days?"
The truth burned my tongue—yes, every single one of the 3,600 days we'd been married. But admitting it would only give him more ammunition. I had just seen how Kieran handled Daniel’s pain. My son’s raw, betrayed face flashed before my eyes. I couldn’t risk him being raised under Kieran’s cold ‘Alpha lessons,’ or worse, under Celeste’s future influence. Full custody was my only sanctuary.
Kieran sneered at my silence, leaning back in his chair. “Leave the address for your new… house,” he said, the word dripping with disdain. “I’ll be tied up today. My son and I will have dinner, then I'll send him your way, along with your signed copy of the papers."
The finality in his voice extinguished my hope of one last family meal. Of course, the great Alpha Kieran wouldn't deign to break bread with his soon-to-be ex-wife.
I left Kieran's office, the hole in my chest yawning further. I hadn't been able to sleep last night after the news, so I'd used that time to pack all my belongings.
I'd never been given a proper chance to make this place my home, so everything I owned fit into two suitcases.
After loading my car with it, instead of driving away, I just sat in the driver's seat.
I stared up at the house before me, recalling all my memories. The ones I'd made with Daniel were bright and colorful, filled with love and laughter. But the memories of Kieran were grey, dull, and empty. Every stilted conversation, every withheld touch, every smile he saved for someone else.
The shrill ringtone shattered my reverie. My mother's name flashing on the screen sent ice through my veins. Two calls in as many days after a decade of silence? The universe clearly had jokes.
"Hi, Mom." I forced cheer into my voice. "How are you holding up?"
She bypassed pleasantries like always. "Is it true?"
My fingers tightened around the phone. "Is what true?"
"That you're finally divorcing Kieran."
The breath left my lungs. Of course she knew. Kieran had probably called Celeste last night.
"Yes," I ground out between clenched teeth.
The sound of my mother's relieved sigh cut deeper than any blade. Actual, gods-damned relief.
"It's for the best," she said. "The marriage was a mistake to begin with. This... this is the correction we've all been waiting for."
My mouth fell open. A single, betrayed tear slipped free. What kind of mother celebrates her daughter's heartbreak? The answer came swiftly and bitterly—the kind who always wanted her other daughter to win.
I hung up without another word and powered off my phone before she could twist the knife further.
I don’t know how long I sat there, watching the shadows lengthen across the manicured lawn until the dying sun painted the front door orange. Then Daniel emerged. He looked calmer, though his eyes were still puffy.
Kieran walked out after him, shouldering a large duffle bag. I frowned. No way that was all Daniel's things. Kieran was making a point—it didn't matter that we moved, Daniel's home was still here.
When Daniel saw me waiting, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face before settling into a small, tentative smile. I got out of the car. He ran to me, and I pulled him into a fierce hug. Goddess, it felt good to hold him again.
"I said I'd bring him over," Kieran snapped, coming closer.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted—"
"Is this how it's going to be?" he cut me off. “Your neat lines and separate territories already blurring? Do you even know what you want?”
Daniel's small hand tugged at Kieran's sleeve. “Dad… stop.” His voice was soft but held a surprising firmness. “You promised. And it’s Grandpa’s funeral this Saturday. We’ll see you then.”
Kieran's jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone. For a heartbeat, I thought he might argue—but then he exhaled sharply and ruffled Daniel's hair.
"Yeah. See you then, champ." His gaze flicked to me, cold and dismissive. "Be good for your mother."
He handed the duffle bag to me and went back inside without another word.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and loaded the bag in silence. Daniel climbed into the passenger seat without complaint, his too-wise eyes watching me carefully. As I pulled away, I forced myself not to look back—not at the house, not at the life I'd failed to make work.
Two minutes into the drive, Daniel rummaged through his backpack and produced a slightly squashed sandwich.
"You didn't eat dinner," he said simply, pressing it into my hand.
The tears I'd been trying so hard to hold in spilled out.
"Daniel..." My voice cracked. "Do you hate me? For this? For taking you away from your dad?"
He considered it with a solemnity no nine-year-old should possess. My heart stalled, braced for the blow—
"No." He fiddled with his seatbelt. "I know you were sad a lot. Maybe now you can be happy."
A sob tore free. The road blurred. His small hand slipped into mine, squeezing tight.
"Don't cry, Mom." His whisper was fierce with promise. "You've got me. I'll make you happy."
I brought his knuckles to my lips, tasting salt and hope. So what if Kieran never loved me? This remarkable boy did—wholeheartedly, unconditionally—and in that moment, it was enough.
More than enough.