Later, within the walls of the estate, Seraphine explained everything—the council's oppression, the awakening, the rebellion Alaric was planning. Her parents listened in solemn silence. When she spoke of Alaric, her mother's gaze flickered with recognition and pain. The past hadn't forgotten him either.
"We'll help," her father said at last, his voice resolute. "The Council's tyranny has gone on for too long. If Alaric stands against them, he will have the House of Santossa behind him."
"And the other clans?" Seraphine asked.
Her mother looked toward the western mountains. "Leave that to us. Many still owe us favors. It's time we call in our debts. My Father the reigning ruler of the Vellaria Clan Valus, Queen Vantessa of the Carello Coven and Landons will be with on your back "
As night fell over Santossa, Seraphine stood on the balcony, gazing at the moon. Carlos joined her, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"You were brave today," he said.
"I feel like I'm finally starting to remember who I am," she replied.
"You're not just Seraphine or Elira. You're both. And soon, everyone will see it, Alaric will be so proud of you."
She smiled, heart full for the first time in years.
Far away in Ravenshade, Alaric stood by his window, fingers brushing the mark Seraphine left on his neck after their last feeding. He could still feel her essence thrumming through him like a vow.
Wait for me, she had said. I'll come back stronger.
He whispered to the wind, "Yes you will be."
--------
Ravenshade Manor fell into a deceptive silence after Seraphine's departure.
But beneath the grand halls and polished marble, danger stirred like a snake in the grass.
Lady Jane watched from the tower balcony, her eyes narrowed in the direction of the horizon Seraphine vanished toward.
"So, the little peasant is bold enough to leave," she sneered, swirling the wine in her goblet. "Perfect. We'll finish this before she returns."
Celestine sat behind her, brushing her curls before the mirror, her reflection smug. "With her gone, it's only a matter of time before the Council forces Alaric's hand. He'll be mine soon enough."
Lady Jane's lips twisted. "Not if he keeps holding back. He may act cold, but he's not immune. We'll turn the screw until he breaks."
They didn't know—Alaric wasn't breaking. He was watching.
He stood in the shadows of the hallway just beyond the chamber, his senses sharp, his expression unreadable. Every word they spoke twisted deeper into his memory like a blade.
"They dare conspire under my roof," he murmured darkly to himself. "Fools."
Alaric sat in his study, staring at a sealed scroll that had arrived at midnight. The Council's seal gleamed like a threat.
You are hereby summoned to the Bride Council to confirm your bride of choice.
He crushed the scroll in his hand, his jaw clenching.
"They know Seraphine left," he growled. "And they plan to use it."
The scent of roses clung too heavily in the east wing.
Celestine walked the halls of Ravenshade Manor in a silk crimson gown that hugged her like a second skin, her golden curls pinned with blood-red rubies, her smile sweet as honey—and just as dangerous.
With Seraphine gone, she wasted no time.
At breakfast, she glided into the dining hall without invitation.
"My lord," she greeted with a soft curtsy, eyes lowering demurely. "May I join you?"
Alaric glanced up from his wine, his expression unreadable. "As you wish."
But the moment her hand "accidentally" brushed his, something in his eyes darkened—sharp, restrained, like a dagger kept sheathed by sheer force of will.
"I had a dream last night," she whispered, voice like velvet. "You were there. You called my name."
"Then you were dreaming of someone else," Alaric replied coldly.
But she wasn't deterred. In fact, rejection only thrilled her more.
Later that day, Celestine waited by the garden steps, wearing a sheer cloak that barely covered her curves. Her skin shimmered under the setting sun as if touched by magic—though the only magic she wielded was deception.
"My lord, you've worked too hard," she cooed as he passed. "Let me soothe your tension."
Before he could respond, she stepped behind him and gently placed her hands on his shoulders, pretending concern. "You're stiff."
He stood still, his body frozen.
"I don't recall granting you permission to touch me," he said coolly, but still—he did not move away.
That moment of stillness emboldened her.
Celestine leaned in, her lips just a breath away from his ear. "Why pretend? You've been alone for too long. You need a woman who can stand by you without hiding in shadows."
Her words echoed—without hiding in shadows. A jab at Seraphine.
That was when he moved.
Alaric turned swiftly, his hand gripping her wrist—not cruel, but firm. "Do not presume that Seraphine hides. She walks beside me in light and darkness."
Celestine's lips trembled, but she masked it with a smile. "Then where is she now, my lord?"
Alaric's silence was damning. He released her and walked away.
But Celestine wasn't done.
She returned to Lady Jane that night, her pride bruised and her eyes gleaming with ambition.
"He resists," Celestine spat, pacing. "But it's unraveling him. I see it. All we need is the right moment."
Lady Jane steepled her fingers. "Then create one. Tomorrow, the Council envoy arrives for the bride assembly review. Alaric must appear decisive… or risk suspicion."
Celestine smiled like a serpent coiled to strike.
"Then tomorrow, he'll have no choice but to choose me—or risk everything."