Chapter 23 - Sera
It’s not a secret how they look at me.
Sometimes it’s a subtle tone shift in conversation when I pass, or the occasional glance thrown in my direction without uttering a word to me. It’s in the hesitation before someone greets me, or the stiffness in their posture, like they’re afraid I’ll detonate if they get too close.
I feel it like a film over my skin that I can’t wash off, but in many ways, it’s familiar to me.
I’m used to being ostracized, regardless of how painful it is to acknowledge.
Luke has been firm, especially with the others who have outwardly expressed concern over me being around. Ever since the announcement, he’s doubling down in every way, in every interaction. He keeps me close, dominating the space when anyone so much as looks at me wrong.
He’s trying, and I know that, but it doesn’t completely shake the blame either.
In their eyes, I’m the reason Wraith Peak has been circling. It’s my magic that has divided them, and they think the baby growing inside me is some kind of demon sent to punish them.
Pressing a hand to my stomach, I can’t feel anything yet, but I’m hyper-aware of every small change in my body.
The nausea reminds me each morning of the situation I’ve found myself in, and the sudden exhaustion that creeps in later on reminds me again.
In every way, I feel stretched so thin, and knowing I’m the most controversial person here, all because of something I can’t help, only makes it worse.
I’m supposed to be happy, and while part of me is, the bigger part is just so tired.
It’s the early evening when I move through the trees near the house, accompanied by the gentle breeze and the smell of damp earth around me.
I didn’t tell Luke before I left the house because I didn’t want to have to explain myself again.
Right now, I don’t want to talk or receive reassurance. I don’t want to hear the same words when I don’t see any change around me.
I just want to breathe, and I want to be alone, even if it’s ironic.
After being the girl who couldn’t shift, then the odd one who needed to be dissected, I hoped being forced into this pack would be different.
I hoped the bond with Luke would anchor me and, at the very least, give me the chance to be someone new.
But even now, I’m standing on the outside, wondering if any of this can ever work.
Luke might’ve chosen me, but that doesn’t guarantee the others will do the same. Instead, I’m the Luna to a pack that doesn’t fully see me as that, and I’m carrying his baby.
It’s bad enough to endure this myself, but the thought of my child receiving the same treatment makes everything in me ache.
If they see me as the one who tainted Coldreach with magic, then what’s stopping them from blaming the byproduct of our bond?
Just as I stop to look out at the ocean beyond the coastline, the deep breath I pull in is interrupted by the soft crack of a stick nearby, and I stiffen. My magic instinctively rises just before I catch his scent in the breeze.
Luke. Of course.
“You weren’t at the house,” he says, stepping within sight now, scanning me quickly like he’s checking for fatal wounds on my harmless walk.
“I needed air,” I murmur, arms crossing.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t think I needed permission to walk on your property,” I return, vaguely bitter.
I don’t mean to be this way, but with everything going on, my edges don’t feel very soft, and I don’t have the capacity to change that.
“You shouldn’t disappear right now,” he says with a quiet breath. “You’re not just you anymore.”
While true and meant to be harmless, that statement feels more like a cage closing in around me, reducing me to nothing more than something for him to coddle while desperately trying to make the others accept me.
“I’m still me, and I just wanted to be alone.”
“I know you are,” Luke murmurs, but he can’t hide the tension moving through him. “You want to be alone a lot lately. I don’t want you to think that’s your reality.”
My brows furrow at that. “But it is. It has been for years.”
“And it doesn’t need to be. I told you, I’m with you on this. Nothing else matters.”
“Nothing?” I question, tone becoming more incredulous now. “The pack matters, Luke. You’re the Alpha. I know you care about what they think because you’re supposed to, and I know it’s killing you to pretend like you don’t. But pretending isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“I’m not pretending. I’m trying to enforce respect,” he returns, a little guarded now.
“And I don’t want it to be forced! I want it to be real. I don’t want to be the reason they resent you, too.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” he asks, taking a step closer as more frustration rolls off his shoulders. “Let them question you and our child? Stand by while they undermine my mate?”
Mate. That word should steady me as it did before, but now it just feels like more pressure.
“I want you to see that this is my nightmare playing out all over again,” I tell him, voice shaking now despite how I try to steady it.
“I grew up like this. I was always different and watched like I was something unusual. I was ignored or mocked, and I promised myself it would never happen again. I told myself that if I ever found someone who chose me completely, I wouldn’t have to feel that anymore.
But I still do, and worse, I have to be their Luna at the same time.
I’m a freak put on display for them, and I have no choice but to stomach it. ”
Luke’s expression goes rigid, like he finally sees the bigger picture. His eyes search mine, and he tries to shake it off. “You’re not a freak, Sera.”
“Then why am I still a target?”
Something vaguely hopeless crosses his features for a moment, and he reaches out for my arms. “I never meant for you to be one.”
“But I am,” I press. “Because of you, it’s even worse now.”
Hurt flickers through him, and his brows pinch again. “Because of me?”
“Yes,” I utter, not hiding the truth of it. “Being the weird girl was one thing, but as your mate, your Luna, and your heir’s mother, I’m the perfect one to blame. Everything is my fault.”
Luke’s grip tightens on my arms just enough to be assertive, and his expression hardens. “Look at me. Please.”
When I do, his eyes are almost as intense as they had been during the announcement. “You are not the problem. Their fear and refusal to change are.”
Even if I believe his words, just taking them at face value doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
He takes me in, looking like he’s clinging to any scrap of determination he can. “I chose you…and I’d choose you again every time.”
Between the pregnancy and having to keep a brave face for this long, the fight drains out of me, and the words leave me in quiet defeat. “I can’t keep doing this…constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop when I know it’s coming.”
I’m at my limit, and I’m exhausted. I’m afraid I’ll have to bring a child into a pack that doesn’t fully want me, and that thought is terrifying.
Luke’s jaw tightens. “You think I’d let that happen?”
“I think some things are out of your control.”
The scant space between us feels far heavier now while he just stares at me, thoughts racing through his eyes. Then, as if realizing pushing will only make it worse, he slowly releases me.
“I’m not letting you push me away.”
“I’m not pushing you away. I just need to think and sort this out before I lose my mind,” I mumble, wanting more than anything for this conversation to be over.
I feel as he bristles through the connection before he can stop it.
“You’re my mate, Sera. We face this together.”
“And we will,” I say, pulling myself away. “But right now, I need to think without you trying to fix it all.”
I can’t bring myself to look at his reaction, but given how strained the bond feels right now, I know it isn’t good.
“I’m not your enemy,” Luke says, staying where he is.
“I know that,” I murmur, pulling in a shallow breath, unable to ignore how hollow my chest feels.
Not waiting for him, I head back toward the yard and into the house, feeling as he follows from a distance.
Inside, I get myself dressed for bed with deliberate slowness, aching in nearly every part of my body before I head toward the door.
Luke stands nearby, not saying anything until I’m next to him. Then, he murmurs, “You don’t have to do this.”
“I do.”
Something like frustration tangled with the desire to be softer surrounds him as he exhales. “This won’t solve anything.”
“Maybe not. But I need this,” I insist quietly. “Just let me have it.”
Once I’m within reach, Luke gently takes my wrist, guiding me closer until he presses his forehead against mine. Eyes closed, he pulls in a deep breath. “I hate this.”
The admission makes me soften just enough not to pull away, and I mirror him. “So do I.”
I can tell that he wants to argue more and to demand I stay with him in bed, forcing the stance away with sheer will, but he doesn’t. Instead, reluctant resolve blankets him as his lips brush against my temple before he pulls back to give me space.
It takes incredible willpower not to fold from the sadness in his eyes.
“I’ll be here if you need me.”
With a weak nod, I continue while the warmth of his touch lingers even when I’m out of the room.
Being in the spare room almost feels like returning to that first night, but I curl up on the bed anyway and try to find whatever comfort I can in the cool sheets.
From somewhere in the house, I hear the idle sound of Luke pacing, but before long, my thoughts drown it out.
I don’t know how this ends, and I don’t know if this bond will be enough to solve everything else, but there’s only so much more I can take.