Chapter Six
Seraphina
After shutting my bedroom door, I leaned against it, allowing a shaky breath to escape my lips. My heart thundered in my chest, a frantic echo of the words still drumming in my head: “I don’t love you anymore.” I wanted my body to reflect that declaration, but instead, it felt like a fragile shell on the verge of shattering. Beneath the surface, a mix of terror and excitement simmered, an unsettling contradiction that left me breathless.
Before returning to Nahachoh, I had convinced myself that the years apart had extinguished my feelings for Tyler. I’d believed that without the mate bond tethering me, my emotions for him would fade. But now, standing alone in my old room, everything felt muddled. Disorientation spun through me, settling into my bones. His presence clung to me, a whisper of magic that called to me just like his cedar scent wrapped around me, an intoxicating reminder of all I’d tried to leave behind.
I rebuked myself for getting too close to him earlier. Tyler had looked at me with such directness, something raw and vulnerable in his bright blue eyes. In the past, that stare had often been filled with lightness or protectiveness, but now, there was a new openness—one that both thrilled and terrified me.
Physically, he hadn’t changed much. Perhaps there were a few more lines etched around his eyes and mouth, but they only enhanced the rugged handsomeness I remembered. And every time his lips hinted at a smile, echoes of our laughter in this space came tumbling back, a delicious ache that stirred deep in my stomach.
“I need to cleanse this stagnant energy,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I turned away from the door, my gaze landing on the small altar before the window. My eyes settled on the incense holder nestled among my crystals. Yes, it was a good idea to clear my mind before sleep.
With determined movements, I tipped the contents of my bag onto the bed, rummaging until I drew out a stick of white sage. I slotted it into the holder, feeling the smooth surface of the sikin crystal on the altar humming gently with the sun’s energy.
“ Kaumma ,” I murmured, channeling the energy from within the crystal to ignite the stick. It flared to life, releasing an earthy perfume that spiraled through the air. Inhaling deeply, I focused on the aroma, letting it carry me to a place of calm while I meditated on the smoke.
Yet my thoughts refused to dissipate, swirling around like one of those spirals. Memories of Tyler filled my mind. He had lit up when I appeared, not questioning me like the patrol. His fierce defense of me in the Council chamber stirred something within me. A warmth ignited as I recalled his unwavering faith in me, even before hearing about my parents’ innocence.
I’d insisted on Alexis detailing everything the Black Moon prisoner had said, convincing myself that Tyler would need that information as much as anyone. But now, Tyler’s words about trust—how he had always trusted me and always would—wrapped around me, especially after enduring the day filled with cold, mistrustful gazes and accusations.
The memory of his warm hand enveloping mine filled me with longing, but I forced the sensation away, inhaling the cleansing scent of sage, convincing myself it washed away the past. He may have canceled the mate ceremony with Linda, but the image of them together that night scarred my heart, a jagged reminder of what had been lost.
Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the task at hand. I was here for my parents, not for Tyler. The need to clear their names fueled my purpose, but pain twisted in my chest as I pictured Tyler pacing in anguish, burdened with the guilt of failing them. Reflexively, I had risen to comfort him, instinctively wanting to soothe his pain before reminding myself of my own scars.
As I stood at my altar, something caught my eye—my ulu, the ceremonial knife. It hadn’t been there when I’d left; I’d last seen it abandoned in the snow, a tool in the magic circle I had cast to sever the mate bond. My heart fluttered, and for the first time, I let myself imagine Tyler’s desperate chase after me that night. Those words he had uttered echoed in my mind: “I promise to love and protect you…” How my younger self would have cherished such a vow. But now? It felt too late. What did those promises really mean when he’d almost dedicated himself to another woman? Despite the fire in his eyes, despite the way his hands enveloped mine, I couldn’t shake the betrayal that coursed through me. When I had needed him to choose me, he had faltered.
The words were sweet, but they felt like flimsy bandages applied to a wound that ran too deep. Forgiveness required trust and the kind of commitment that he had overlooked while I fought through my pain alone. I may have severed the mate bond, creating a chasm between us, but Tyler had crafted the distance when he’d rejected the love I’d given so freely.
The thought of letting him back in sent a wave of fear crashing over me. Trust, once broken, was a fragile thing to rebuild. I couldn’t afford to let him back in when I had worked so hard to banish the pain he’d created.
My ulu steadied me, its sharp edge reminding me of my resolve. I had chosen to sever the bond, and it was done.
As I surveyed my old room, an unsettling realization swept over me. Everything was exactly as I had left it. My robe was hanging on the door, and the floral sheets were on the bed. I approached my old wardrobe. My clothes remained untouched. Unease prickled over me. The room had become a shrine to a life I had outgrown. Tyler still needed to confront his past, just as I had.
But it was a roof over my head. After all, my parents’ house had been burned down after the invasion by the Black Moons, the pack choosing to wipe out even their memory. Here, this room was all I had.
At least I was able to pull out a pair of pajamas from the drawer, and the familiar scent of fabric softener was comforting. Drawing back the sheets, I climbed into the bed, feeling the freshness envelop me. Soon, I succumbed to exhaustion, falling into a dreamless sleep—a much-needed respite from the day’s turmoil.
The next morning, after a refreshing shower, I made my way downstairs, ready to visit the infirmary.
Tyler sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal before him. With one look, I saw that it was the usual granola in front of him.
“Morning,” he greeted, his tone somewhat formal before quickly asking, “What can I get you—toast or—”
“I can get it,” I interrupted, already planning to fuel up for the energy I’d expend treating packmates.
“Did you sleep all right?” he asked as I joined him at the table with my toast and coffee. “Did you have everything you needed?”
“Of course,” I replied, casting an amused look at him. “Like—all my stuff.”
He blinked, a quizzical look crossing his face.
“Not that I’m not grateful to be reunited with my favorite sweater-and-jeans combo,” I continued, gesturing to my outfit, “but it’s probably time you turned my old room into a gym or study like most parents do when their kids leave home.”
Tyler choked on a mouthful of cereal, torn between discomfort and irritation, as evidenced by the scowl clouding his brow.
But I’d made my decision after last night. I was forging ahead, determined to eliminate any romantic ideas between us. While I needed to be here for my parents, I’d lean into the friendship we’d once shared. After all, Tyler had raised me after my parents’ death. Reminding him of that was the best way to ensure he saw me as nothing more than family.
“So, I suppose we shouldn’t tell anyone the true reason I’ve come back,” I said. “Not until we’ve rooted out the real traitor.”
“I agree,” Tyler replied, relief washing over his features as if the change of subject were a lifeline. “We’ll just tell everyone you missed your clothes, shall we?” His tone was teasing, yet a glimmer of challenge danced in his eyes.
I snorted in amusement, choosing to respond to his tone rather than look.
Once we finished breakfast, we made our way to the infirmary. As we entered, Linda strode toward us, animosity rolling off her in waves. “You’re not welcome here,” she snapped, her tone cutting through the air, sharp and clear.
Momentarily stunned, I gestured toward my supplies. “I’m here to help,” I said, my voice teetering between a plea and frustration. But my words fell on deaf ears. Linda stood firm, blocking the doorway.
Tyler stepped in, his voice steady. “I thought I was clear yesterday, Linda. Seraphina is going to look at the patients.” His stance exuded authority. A flicker of gratitude moved through me for his support.
She glanced at him warily, the fight dissipating as she realized she couldn’t deny his order. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but grudgingly, she stepped aside, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, but my supplies are off-limits.”
Like the rest of the pack, Linda hadn’t been particularly friendly to me since my parents’ betrayal. But I suspected that more of her anger originated from Tyler’s canceling their mate ceremony because of his feelings for me. She stalked away from us in the opposite direction, clearly not wanting to have any more interactions than necessary.
Tyler handed me a face mask after putting one on himself.
“So, the illness is an airborne one?” I asked as I secured my mask.
“Yes, but it can be transmitted through blood, too,” Tyler said. “We think Harry picked it up when training with David in the ring.”
We moved deeper into the infirmary, the muted lighting illuminating rows of makeshift beds filled with pack members suffering from the illness. Most lay in fevered slumber, while those awake appeared clammy and weary—an air of suspicion thickened as I passed their beds, making my heart race with trepidation.
“Luckily,” I told Tyler, scanning my supplies, “I’ve brought quite an inventory, but it won’t be enough for this many patients.”
Gratitude surged as I recalled raiding Selina’s stock cupboard before leaving. When I first met her, she had run her own herbal boutique. Now, her business thrived, expanding to include a whole network of boutiques. The main bulk of her stock remained at Shadow Moon Castle. So, I felt confident I wouldn’t need Linda’s herbs for a while.
“They’re running a fever, and Linda has been treating it with kuppik,” Tyler explained, guiding us through the infirmary, where a few visitors tended to the infected.
I recognized two younger female shifters dressed in scrubs, Kelly and Laura, both of whom had studied herbalism at Silver Moon University. “Do Kelly and Laura work here now?” I asked Tyler.
“In the summer months,” he replied. “Linda’s been training them to be aides over the past few summer breaks. Good thing, too. We’ve needed all the help we can get these last few days.”
“Hi,” I greeted as I approached them. They were administering poultices to some of the worst affected patients.
“Hi, Seraphina,” they both replied cheerfully, their acceptance a warm balm in the chilly atmosphere. They were more open-minded than most of the pack, having not lost any immediate family during the invasion my parents were supposedly responsible for. It also didn’t hurt that they’d actually ventured from the confines of the pack to study at Silver Moon University.
I examined the male shifter Kelly was tending to—David, a Silver Moon warrior in his mid-twenties. He shivered beneath multiple layers of blankets, clearly suffering from the same fever as the others.
“We’re trying a course of lemonwood to bolster their immune systems,” Kelly explained, the citrus scent a welcome reprieve from the underlying sweat and waste in the room. Yet a knot of concern twisted in my stomach—I knew deep down that the herbs wouldn’t suffice. This illness wasn’t merely a virus. A sickening whisper wrapped around David’s skin, tugging at my magic—this was definitely dark magic.
Memories of Selina’s sister, Marissa, flooded my mind. I recalled how the malignant shadowy tendrils had contaminated Selina’s products. I had helped her and Lyvia heal the affected customers. Armed with that knowledge, I was confident I could make a difference here, too.
“I’ve seen something like this before,” I whispered to Tyler after examining a few of the worst-afflicted packmates. Their symptoms were strikingly consistent, and I felt a growing determination swell within me. “I’m pretty sure I could whip up a remedy.”
His blue gaze met mine, and I sensed that he wanted me to tell him more. I wanted to share more about Selina’s sister and how dark magic had tainted the herbal products. But as I considered the possibility of the traitor lurking among us, I hesitated. The truth would need to wait for solitude.
“It’ll take both herbs and magic,” I explained to Tyler as I set out my supplies on a table in the center of the infirmary.
Just then, I noticed Logan had joined the small gathering of visitors. The hour was early, but the atmosphere felt charged, and Logan hovered beside David’s bed, watching me like a hawk. As soon as I met his hostile gaze, he sneered, “Do you seriously think anyone will let you lay a finger on them?”
Heat flushed along my skin, but I refused to let Logan’s spite hinder me.
Ignoring him, I announced to the infirmary, “Hi everyone! If you’ll listen for a moment, I think you’ll be pleased to know I have seen this type of illness before. A dear friend of mine, Selina, Luna of the Shadow Moon Pack, had a similar infection that had passed through one of her herbal products. It had been tampered with in her boutique.”
Many in the pack respected title. If my friendship with a luna could help me convince them of my ability to help, I would lean into it.
“With both magic and herbal treatments, we were able to reverse the illness,” I explained. “I’m confident I can do the same here. Who wants to go first?”
My heart raced, and shaky breaths clawed at my throat. As a resounding silence permeated the infirmary, I felt cornered. Frustration made me want to shout that I wasn’t the enemy. I was here to help. But it seemed abysmally clear that Logan was right—this pack, the one I needed to remain in to find the true traitor and clear my parents’ name, was determined to hate me.
As Linda flitted around the infirmary, distributing poultices with heavy steps—each one seeming to beat with purpose and mock my own inaction—I felt defeated, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Time stretched agonizingly slowly. I pressed my fingertips to my temples, fighting the start of a headache as I racked my brain for a way to convince the packmates around me.
In that moment, I felt Logan’s spiteful presence more than anything else. Images flickered in my mind: us as teenagers gathered around the bonfire, the crackling flames casting elongated shadows across our faces. I could hear his cruel laughter mingling with the others as they hurled insults my way, their words sharp and unrelenting. I had skulked away, head down, veins burning with shame, retreating to the safety of Tyler’s, locking myself in my bedroom. My studies became my refuge, the pages of my books the only companions who didn’t remind me of the betrayal that shattered my family.
Those memories hung heavy, a bitter reminder of how I had been cast out, an outsider within my own pack. But things were different now. I had returned with the certainty that my parents were innocent. Everything I’d endured as a teenager—the bullying, the isolation—had been unjust.
So, despite the resounding silence around me, I held my head high, refusing to be forced away as I once had been. I wasn’t the helpless girl they’d once dismissed. I would reclaim my strength and my place, no matter how long it took. This time, I wasn’t backing down.
Tension and silence enveloped the infirmary like a dense fog. Pale morning light sifted through the eastern windows, illuminating the weary faces of packmates, their expressions a mix of doubt and fear. Justin stood at his brother Harry’s bedside, worry creasing his brow as he watched the still form. A few beds away, Susan hunched over her daughter, her fingers worrying the blanket. Craig, a brooding figure with strong shoulders, gripped his wife’s hand. Yet despite my offer to help, an impenetrable wall of uncertainty hung over the room, keeping all the packmates frozen.
Golden light crept across the cold stone floor, coaxing dust motes to dance like tiny spirits caught between worlds. As the sun’s warmth slowly spread, I felt a weight settle heavily on my chest—a gnawing urgency that time was slipping away. How could I earn the pack’s trust? How could I convince them that I meant them no harm?
Finally, muffled voices stirred, low and cautious. My heart quickened, hope flaring. Susan and Craig were whispering, looking at me. No… they looked past me. I turned. My breath caught in my throat. Tyler stood beside David, the unconscious Silver Moon warrior. Blood dripped from Tyler and David’s hands. That’s when I noticed my ulu blade gleaming in his other hand.