SERAPHINA’S POV
I felt the exact moment the word ‘mate’ landed.
Celeste’s face had been sharp with contempt, mouth curved in that familiar, cutting smile.
But when Maris said it, stepping forward with unflinching, protective fury, something fractured.
It was subtle: A tightening around the eyes. A hitch in her breath. A shiver that did not belong to arrogance or rage.
Shock.
And beneath it…
Something like grief.
I’d watched her carefully since she’d begun unravelling.
Not just with my eyes, but with the sharpened awareness I’d gained these past months—the ability to feel shifts in a room, to sense when emotion rang true and when it was manufactured for effect.
This wasn’t performance.
When Maris claimed Brett, something inside Celeste faltered in a way that did not seem rehearsed.
“You…” Celeste breathed, her gaze on Brett, her voice shaking as if she was still grappling to make sense of the moment. “You said you loved me.”
“I did,” he answered quietly.
