"Rise and shine! We have a big day ahead of us."
The curtains swung open, revealing the gentle blush of the rising sun. Seraphina growled and buried her head under the blanket.
Her teeth clenched together, the effort to contain her discontent palpable. This was unprecedented; Osiris had never done this before. Every morning, he'd kiss her farewell, leaving her to emerge from the covers whenever she pleased. What was this intrusion?
"Come on, Phina, time's ticking. We've got a meeting this morning." Osiris's footsteps approached the bed, but Seraphina remained still.
Why should she move? It wasn't like she was ready to venture out. The cabin had confined her for weeks, and she had no intention of changing that today, not with the tightness constricting her chest.
A brisk tug on her blanket exposed her to the glaring sun. "What the hell, Osiris?" She sat up, her hair a golden riot of knots and frizz.
Osiris stood by the bed, blanket clutched in his arms, a waning smile on his lips. "Excellent! You're up."
"Hand me the blanket, and close those damn curtains." Her demand was unwavering. Yet, Osiris defied it, tossing the blanket into a corner chair before approaching the dresser. An idle tray of food awaited.
Balancing the tray, he advanced to her side, setting it gently on her lap. "Neither request granted. You've got one hour," he stated, as if speaking to a child.
A surge of impulse tempted Seraphina to hurl the tray at his face. Who gave him the authority to dictate her actions? She was a Luna, just as much as he was an alpha. He held no dominion over her choices.
Was he blind to her daily unraveling? Did he not perceive the fractured soul beneath her eyes? How could he demand anything from her in this shattered state?
Her gaze hardened as it settled on the food. Bitterness twisted her lips. "I don't know what's gotten into your head, but count me out of whatever you're plotting."
His smile wavered, his words bearing more weight than he'd admit. He had to remind himself that this wasn't the same Phina he met months ago, all shy and affectionate. This was the version of his mate stricken with heartache, aching and broken.
Osiris sighed, his resolve faltering. "Please, Phina, let's not argue. Just—" He headed for the bedroom door, swinging it open. "—finish your breakfast and change. Spare me the task of dragging you out."
A wave of irritation washed over her, her eyes briefly igniting with a crimson glow. The door's click marked his exit, and her anger ebbed.
The aroma of breakfast made her mouth water. She hesitated, reluctant to give Osiris any semblance of approval. Still, her stomach grumbled in protest. She devoured the plate with a sudden hunger, realizing she couldn't even recall her last proper meal.
An hour later, Osiris returned, as promised. However, Seraphina remained ensnared in her robe, displaying no effort toward presentability.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone holding a hint of disappointment. "Phina..."
Seated by the window in her robe, Sera watched the pack's summer activity unfold from a distance. Laughter of children at play filled the air, a stark contrast to her internal turmoil. A surge of unidentifiable emotion churned within her chest.
Osiris approached, their emotions laid bare to each other. Their bond resembled a shattered glass, each shard a window into their souls.
"I'm doing my best," he mumbled, mostly to himself, settling on the floor beside her.
Though her gaze remained fixed outside, Sera keenly sensed his presence. Amid the turmoil, this was the sole constant. Her senses mapped every breath, every emotional tremor he emitted.
Unmoving, she was caught between collapsing into pieces and erecting another barrier around her desolate soul.
A pang reverberated through their bond, and she fought the urge to retreat. Osiris had been probing their connection, tugging at it as if afraid it might dissipate one day.
Sera's thoughts raced, her instinct for self-preservation quelling the pain of her bond. Suicidal tendencies weren't her affliction.
As his soul brushed against the frayed edges of their bond, she clenched her teeth. A shiver traced her spine, her voice cutting through the tension. "Don't you have more pressing matters?"
She met his gaze, her eyes seeking understanding.
Stretched to speak more than a few words, Osiris rose abruptly, strategizing to prevent her retreat into isolation. An angered Phina was better than a silent one.
"No, you're my priority right now," he confessed.
"I find that hard to believe," she said, her gaze distant, fixed on the snow-clad mountaintops that dotted the horizon. "Aren't you overwhelmed by the Lupus council?"
The room fell silent, the rhythm of their heartbeats and breaths the only sounds.
Osiris approached tentatively, standing near enough to touch her golden hair. A longing twitched his fingers, eager to trace her locks. But his hands remained resolutely by his side.
"I'm juggling the Lupus council, unraveling their intentions. Progress would be swifter with assistance." He lifted her feet onto his lap as he settled onto the windowsill beside her.
Despite her urge to pull away, Sera found herself welcoming his touch, her mind refocusing on his words: I'd be further along if I had help.
The jibe stung, a reminder of her role in drawing the Lupus council's attention. Her actions, perceived as terroristic, left a vulnerable pack in their wake.
"They're arriving tomorrow." Sera snapped her head in his direction, no clarification needed. The news hit her like a hammer blow. "I can't delay them any longer. They want to meet you."
"Meet me?"
Osiris knew the council rarely stirred from their inertia, let alone journeyed halfway through the Bellique mountains. Their purpose was apparent: Phina's presence held significance, be it as a marvel or a threat. The uncertainty was unnerving.
He nodded slightly, rubbing her feet absently.
"Did they reveal their motive?"
Osiris exchanged a knowing glance, then directed his attention to the window.
"Well," Sera sighed, "here we stand, Seraphina Lotus, the fated demon hound marked for pursuit and execution." Her words slid from her lips with an unruffled cadence that pierced Osiris's ears like a shrill scream.
He growled, resisting the urge to counter her negativity.
"For what?" Her narrowed eyes locked onto his, her knees drawn to her chest. "It's the truth. Are we done now?"
Osiris inhaled deeply, battling the impulse to retort. "It isn't true. We're in the dark about their motives. They might be—"
"For what?" She pushed off the windowsill, advancing to the closet. "To offer greetings? To congratulate me? To recognize you as an alpha?" Slipping into satin pants, she headed for the bedroom door. "I see only one reason and damn as sure isn't to plant flowers."
Osiris halted her with a grip on her wrist. "Enough." Though she resisted, he tightened his hold. "Pause for a moment."
Exhaling audibly, she blew a stray curl from her face. He tucked it behind her ear, his gesture intimate amidst their strained interaction.
"Please, you've spoken more today than in weeks."
"Glad you noticed."
He ignored her acerbic response. "I woke you and served breakfast." Her eyes flitted to the half-eaten tray of food, realization dawning—his effort. "I did it because I wanted to, because I want to support you."
"I'm okay," she lied through gritted teeth. "I need space." Breaking free, she moved toward the staircase.
"Phina, how much longer?"
Her feet dug into the floor, eyes on her heels. "What do you mean?"
"How much longer will I watch you unravel?" Two steps brought him before her, a looming presence. "You barely speak, rarely emerge from our room. I—"
"I what?" Her voice brimmed with challenge.
"I'm concerned, Phina." His tone softened, fear shading his words. Her rejection twisted his gut, but he couldn't command her.
Gripping the railing, she spared him a glance, her words halting. "Do yourself a favor and stop worrying. It might brighten the atmosphere around here."
A rumble echoed like thunder, frustration etched in his features. His hands reached for her shoulders, pinning her against the wall, his hazel eyes intense.
Seeking regret in her gaze, he found none—only fleeting shame.
With anyone else, he'd correct their audacity. But with Phina, he couldn't; he witnessed the whirlpool of her anguish.
Releasing her, he took a step back. "Phina, I want to help. If you'd let me."
"Don't you see, Siris? I don't need help; I need tranquility. I want my parents alive, an unburdened mind, wishes that seem futile, dreams unattainable."
Descending the stairs, she glanced back at him. "So, if your aim is to mend me, then—" Her words froze.
Then what? The plea lingered, unspoken.
If begging would suffice, he would. Anything to heal her—marching through hell, bearing her agony. A century or a day, he'd endure, to see her emerge, whole and thriving. Every ounce of pain was insignificant beside her worth.
Sera shook her head. Osiris hoped she'd offer a lifeline, but her words cleaved his heart. "-then you should just let it go. It's a waste, and a distraction from more concerning problems."
The urge to chase her surged, to retract her words. But he remained anchored, watching her retreat.