3. Priceless Treasure

SERAPHINA

My lungs locked, the air suddenly too heavy to draw in. Heat crawled up my spine—not shame, but something sharper, more dangerous.

I stood motionless in the center of the vast, crimson-draped hall, the gold of my gown blazing under the lights, every gaze pressing into my skin.

The crown lay at my feet.

Rexton didn’t hesitate. He didn’t look back.

He crossed the distance to Dahlia in seconds, his voice tight with worry as he gathered her into his arms—careful, protective, as if she were made of something fragile and irreplaceable.

And in that moment, clarity hit harder than humiliation ever could.

“Don’t just stand there!” My so-called dad gritted, breaking the dreadful silence that had settled around me. 

My wet eyes cut to his frame as he approached the platform, his face twisted in a mask of fury with no trace of concern for me.

His hand closed around my arm, nails biting into my skin. “Do you know how many eyes were on you tonight?”

“All you had to do—all you ever had to do—was keep him.” He hissed.

His words were the slap I needed for realization to kick in. I was losing Rexton, my lover and the father of my child, to Dahlia. I gasped defeatedly as I remembered Celeste, who was still nestled in the arms of a servant. 

“He wouldn’t even hold his daughter as he held her.” Kia growled in my head, and I seized her anger to free myself from my dad’s hold.

“You’re a failure, Seraphina!” Dad barked even as I walked towards my daughter. 

Sniffing back tears and ignoring him, I shakily said to the servant holding Celeste, “Take her to the Alpha mansion and stay with her. I will be there soon.”

“Understood, Luna…” The servant answered respectfully, yet that title felt like a kick to my gut.

I resisted the urge to look back at the crown as I walked out of the empty hall, tracing Rexton's scent to the pack hospital, where he was standing over Dahlia in a private ward. Something about that scene dragged me down memory lane. 

I recalled how I endured premature labor without Rexton, and I found myself envying Dahlia even though he assured me I had nothing to worry about.

“What’s happening with her?” Rexton asked the doctor impatiently, worry lines etched on his face, “Will she and the baby be alright?” 

“They will be fine, Alpha.” The doctor reassured him as he finished his examination. “She collapsed due to stress. Humans are weaker beings who need constant rest, especially after a long trip.”

I held my breath as Rexton’s lips parted, but before he could utter another word, a roar reverberated, “Human?” 

From the corner of my eyes, I saw the familiar frame of Rexton’s dad, Callan, the former Alpha of Crimson Moon Pack. Behind him were my dad and a few pack elders who must be here to get answers to the same question ringing in my head.

“What’s so special about her that he dropped the Luna crown and stopped the coronation ceremony?” 

I was dying to know too. 

“You brought a human into our world and even let her participate in the pack’s ceremony?” Callan queried with disbelief, anger shimmering in his orbs. 

My Dad seized the opportunity, adding quickly, “This doesn’t align with our traditions, Alpha, and she isn’t strong enough to be amongst us.”

“Alpha…” Dahlia’s voice broke, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Rexton stiffened. The lines of confusion etched on his forehead vanished. 

Then he moved. 

Not towards me.

He knelt beside her instead.

“Don’t cry, Dahlia.” His usually commanding voice came out gentle as she comforted her. I felt a pinch of jealousy in my chest because he was never gentle with anyone but me… until now. 

Then he turned to the Elders, eyes throwing daggers and teeth clenching, “My pack doesn’t forget those who helped and Dahlia was helpful during the border crises, treating my injured warriors.”

“Of course we shouldn’t forget, Alpha.” Callan retorted. “There are other ways to—”

“I’ll not abandon her!” Rexton seethed, his Alpha aura oozing from his pores.

Suddenly, his gaze found me, glinting with hope as he whispered,  “At least you understand me, Seraphina. Right?” 

“No! I don’t!” I wanted to scream and shatter his hope. 

A part of me wanted to demand answers, but the part that feared what the truth would do to me resisted.

Instead,  I heard myself saying, each word tasting like self-betrayal, “Yes, I understand and support you.”

Rexton nodded with approval, his gaze softening into the one I loved, yet my heart hammered when he said, “Good. I expect you to take care of her when she returns home with us.”

Within a few hours, my supposed coronation day became a day for me to tend to a woman who would soon stab me where it hurt the most. An attack I didn’t see coming, not when Rexton found me in my room that evening, hugging me tightly. 

“Today changes nothing, Sera.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to my temple. “We’ll choose another day for your coronation.”

His words soothed me.

He said we would hold the ceremony again, and that was indeed a sign of respect toward me. I wanted to believe him. So I did.

I wanted to believe him. So I did.

*******

The next morning, I wasn’t looking for anything. I wasn’t suspicious. I was simply walking down the corridor when I heard a sound—soft, unfamiliar, and out of place.

A woman’s voice.

I slowed before I even realized it, my steps faltering as the door ahead stood ajar.

Rexton was inside.

So was Dahlia.

He sat before her, his posture unguarded, his focus undivided. His hand cradled her foot, thumbs moving in slow, practiced circles as if this were something he had done a hundred times before.

“Hmm… right there, Alpha,” Dahlia breathed, her voice thick as she shifted, her knees parting slightly.

Rexton chuckled—low, warm—without looking up. His fingers slid higher, lingering, careless, and far too familiar.

The room felt suddenly too small. Too intimate.

They didn’t notice me at first.

And that was the worst part.

The quiet touches. The shared murmurs. The ease between them should have been mine to share with Rexton.

My chest tightened, heat flooding my veins as the truth settled—slow, brutal, undeniable.

“What,” I said, my voice sharper than I felt, “are you doing?!”