What The Diviner Saw

Seraphina was daydreaming in the middle of a Blood-moon feast. To her, it felt like a trance. Her breath labored, catching in her throat like claws scraping bone, but she concealed this within herself. The gift demanded silence. It always did. In the blink of an eye, the vision vanished, and she came to her normal self, gasping quietly as the great hall reformed around her.

Seraphina had seen a lot of things in her years as the pack's Diviner. Most horrifying, most grueling visions that would break lesser minds—she saw and interpreted them without a sliver of emotion in her tongue. It was the price of her gift, the sacred burden: not to act upon emotions or empathy, only to speak when the spirits commanded. But this particular vision had her on edge, trembling like prey.

As the blood feast concluded, Deimon retired to his manor, each scion member scattering to their various destinations like wolves returning to their dens. Cold dread washed upon Seraphina—it was unlike her, she who had seen distorted faces of beings from the deepest parts of the abyss, creatures that fed on fear itself. Why was this particular vision a major concern? What made it different from all the others?

"You seem quiet tonight, dear. What do those eyes see?" 

Edith startled Seraphina, appearing from the shadows like a ghost. Seraphina shook in fright, her composure cracking.

" Madam Edith, it's nothing actually, I don't—" 

She didn't finish her sentence when Edith smiled knowingly. It seemed as if she could see the expression Seraphina made, despite her blindness.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm a blind, helpless old wolf, can't even transform under the brightest moon anymore. But I can tell by my sense of smell that you aren't yourself today. The scent of fear clings to you like morning dew. Was it the meal, or the chaos of the ceremony? Did the spirits speak to you?" Edith's voice was gentle but probing, the wisdom of centuries behind each word.

"It's nothing to worry about, madam. I'm not feeling too well, that's all." 

Seraphina faked a small chuckle, though it sounded hollow even to her own ears. She was a terrible liar, and her gifts made it impossible for her to lie convincingly. The spirits punished deception.

"It's been a tough day for us all, dear. After all, our Alpha is about to prosecute his Luna, his chosen mate. We all grieve, whether we speak it or not. The pack bond feels it—this betrayal cuts deeper than silver. See to it that you take care of yourself, Seraphina. If you feel sick, don't hesitate to come to my chamber." 

The old lady concluded with a wave and continued strolling down the moonlit path, her walking stick tapping a steady rhythm against the stone.

Seraphina hurried back to her apartment, her mind racing with fragments of what she'd seen.

But that night brought the most thrilling and terrifying experience yet. Seraphina turned and curled in her sleep, hot sweat soaking through her nightgown and pooling beneath her. Her wolf stirred restlessly inside, whimpering. Then her eyes opened—but she wasn't truly awake. A trance. She was back at the Blood-moon room, pulled there by forces beyond her control.

The five scion members were seated exactly as they had been during the evening feast—Deimon at the head, flanked by wealth and power incarnate. But something was wrong. The air tasted of copper and prophecy. Then she saw it again, clearer this time. A shape that watched with eyes like burning coals, ancient and hungry. It moved when no one else did. It breathed when the room held its breath, when even the Alpha himself seemed frozen in time.

And wrapped around its throat was a silver chain identical to the one Anna Wilson wore—the Luna's necklace, passed down through generations of pack mothers.

The prophecy was unfolding faster than she'd feared. The threads of fate were tangling in ways she couldn't untangle, knotting tighter with each passing hour. And the vision that had woken her screaming three nights ago—the one of Deimon standing in a river of blood that wasn't his enemy's, that belonged to pack, to family—suddenly felt terrifyingly close. The premonition carried weight, the kind that crushed souls.

She opened her mouth to speak, to warn the gathered wolves, but the shadow's eyes flashed once in warning. The temperature dropped.

"Not yet,"

 something whispered directly into her mind, a voice older than the pack itself.

Seraphina's fingers trembled as she finally lifted her cup in the vision, the wine tasting like vinegar and regret and the sorrow of a thousand broken bonds. Then she woke with a fright, gasping for air.

Her body was soaked in her own pool of sweat, the sheets clinging to her skin like burial shrouds. The sight had been chilling, fear gripping her heart with iron talons. She couldn't go back to sleep—wouldn't dare face what waited in the darkness behind her eyelids. She stayed up wondering what the vision could actually mean, turning it over in her mind like a puzzle with missing pieces.

She didn't let herself get involved in pack matters as a rule. Diviners were meant to be neutral on pack conflicts, only to speak when the spirits led, when the ancestors demanded their voices be heard. But her resolve was growing strong, her visions weren't lying to her. They never did. Something deep in her bones told her Anna had truth in her words, though it was unbelievable even to her rational mind. A Luna betraying her Alpha? Impossible. Yet the spirits insisted otherwise.

She pondered all night until fear washed over her in cold waves. She quickly got up and rushed to her divination corner, cradling her crystal stones and prayer beads between trembling fingers, muttering esoteric words in the old tongue—words that predated the modern packs, words of power and sight.

By morning, exhausted but determined, Seraphina headed to the dungeon where Anna was held. She needed to speak with the condemned Luna, to clarify some things, to understand what the spirits were showing her. She covered her face with a hood and walked with the grace of a pilgrim, humble and unassuming.

But the guards at the entrance wouldn't let her in, even though they knew she was a high-ranking member of the clan, even though her position should have granted her access anywhere.

"Sorry, madam. Master Ashworth's orders—no one visits the Luna. Only Master Ashworth himself and her handmaid have access to these cells. Alpha's command." The guard's voice was bold but apologetic. He knew refusing a Diviner could bring bad fortune.

Seraphina tried to convince them, appealing to pack tradition and her sacred role, but she knew they meant business. No omega would disobey an Alpha's direct order, not unless they wanted to face his wrath. The Alpha's word was law, absolute and unquestionable.

Seraphina left in disappointment, her heart heavy with frustration. She felt deep pity for the poor young woman locked away in darkness. The pain of depression and isolation, being rejected and despised by everyone she'd once called family—it was a fate worse than death for a wolf. The pack bond, once warm and strong, had turned cold and cutting.

The Crimson Ceremony was at hand, just one day ahead, and preparations were being made heavily throughout the pack grounds. Crimson banners hung from every building, the color of blood and judgment. Seraphina didn't take part in the preparations. Instead, she sat sadly in her chambers, thinking of her visions and the fate of Anna Wilson. Her heart bled for what was coming, for what she couldn't prevent.

---

"Master Ashworth, do you think it's wise to visit her in your current state, sir?" 

Jabari asked, trailing behind him, trying desperately to keep up with Deimon, who walked at an amazing pace down the corridor. The Alpha's presence alone made the temperature drop, made lesser wolves bow their heads instinctively.

"I fear you might lash out and do the unexpected, sir. Your control has been—"

"Don't worry, Jabari. I've accepted that she'll be prosecuted at the Crimson Ceremony, so be rest assured I'm not doing anything crazy." Deimon smiled malevolently, though it never reached his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes that had watched empires of wolves rise and fall. He pressed forward with predatory grace.

"Wait here for me, Jabari. I'm going alone. Let me see my once true love one more time before judgment falls." 

Deimon's voice carried dark amusement, and he left Jabari standing at the entrance of the dungeon like a dismissed servant.

The guard opened the cellar doors immediately, not daring to meet the Alpha's gaze. Deimon stepped down into the underground cell, descending into darkness and despair.

Anna lay almost lifeless on the cold stone floor, barely moving. Daylight barely penetrated the cell, only thin streams of weak light filtering through cracks, which added to Anna's suffering. The Luna who had once commanded respect now looked broken, defeated.

"How are you holding up, my love?" 

Deimon mocked, smoothing his expensive suit with casual cruelty. "Had anything to eat today? The guards tell me you refuse every meal." His words fell on deaf ears. Anna didn't make a sound or move—she just sat there, hands chained with silver that burned her wrists raw.

Deimon bent down, invading her space, and shifted a few strands of her matted hair away from her face. The gesture was almost tender, which made it more vicious.

"You shouldn't let this continue, Anna. Tell me the father of the pup. Is it an Alpha from a rival pack? An omega you took pity on? A stray you met in your charitable work? Or perhaps a human?" Each suggestion dripped with venom and possessive rage.

Anna remained still, silent. Her spirit had given up, and she'd left herself to fate, to whatever the Crimson Ceremony would bring.

"I loved you, Anna. I truly did." Deimon's voice dropped, becoming dangerously soft. "Everything I said was true and genuine—the vows before the pack, the promises under the full moon. It hurts me that I have to hurt you, though I promised by your father's grave not to lay a finger on you. But you've left me no choice." 

He paused, letting the words sink in like poison.

"Please don't make this go farther than it already has. I'm willing to set you free, Anna. It will be like nothing happened—we'll say the accusations were false, that the pregnancy was a medical confusion. Just give me a name. If speaking it is too heavy, pen it down on paper." Deimon produced a piece of paper and a black ballpoint pen, laying them before her like a final lifeline.

Anna didn't flinch. She heaved inside, her body shaking with the effort of breathing, and let out an exhausting gasp before going silent again. Her defiance, even in defeat, was absolute.

Deimon held his anger, every muscle in his body tensing. He could hear the tiny heartbeat of the bastard growing inside Anna 

    He was this close to lashing out again, to letting his wolf tear free and destroy everything. But he held himself back with iron will, the control of an Alpha who had ruled for decades. The thought of the child—another male's child growing inside his Luna—annoyed him beyond measure, ignited possessive fury that threatened to consume him entirely.

Finally, he tapped on his lap and got up, towering over her broken form.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Sorry I'm leaving so soon—I would have loved to keep you company for a while longer, to watch you suffer. But I have a meeting with the head of the Clans, very urgent business. Matters of pack law and ancient tradition." He straightened his cuffs with deliberate slowness.

"Whenever you feel like saying something, I'll be around. But be fast about it, Anna. The clock is ticking." Deimon climbed back up the stone steps and slammed the heavy door, the sound echoing like a death knell.

Anna yelled in frustration the moment he was gone, her emotions finally rupturing after days of forced silence. She cried bitterly, cursing the earth and the moon and the cruel fate that had brought her to this moment. Her life was over, finished before it had truly begun. She prayed for death to take her and her unborn pup, to end this suffering mercifully.

Above, in her chambers, Seraphina felt the Luna's anguish through the pack bond and wept silently, knowing what tomorrow would bring.