6. A Kiss of Love

SERAPHINA

~<>~

“Running off into the woods to cause trouble? Childish, even for you." 

Rexton barked, but I remained silent, quietly walking past him to get Celeste back in my arms.

And I did, finding peace as soon as her eyes burned into mine. 

But that peace was short-lived.

Two days later, the mansion was thrown into chaos because Dahlia’s son, Arlo,  was ill. 

I ignored the chaos until Rexton summoned me. I was forced to sit in the living room while a strange woman with a cloying, rotten aura examined the boy. 

Her clouded eyes were fixed on Arlo as she croaked, “The boy carries an omen of the next Alpha. But his spirit is fractured. To heal him, he requires a blessing from both Alpha and Luna.”

Rexton turned to me, his eyes desperate but hard. "You will do this, Seraphina. For the sake of the pack."

I had no choice. I followed them into the nursery, my heart heavy. 

Dahlia sat by the cradle, her face pale with grief. 

But as I leaned over to offer the ritual blessing, her hand shot out. With a strength that shocked me, she yanked me forward, her other hand sweeping the infant from the silk cushions.

"No!" Dahlia screamed, her voice piercing the room.

Within a second, she let Arlo go. 

I lunged to catch him, my fingers brushing the swaddling clothes, but he hit the plush rug with a soft thud.

"You dropped him!" Dahlia wailed loudly, throwing herself onto the floor and cradling the crying child.

Rexton walked in just in time, and she screamed, "Rexton! She tried to kill our son.”

I stood paralyzed, hands still reaching for empty air. "I... she pulled me..."

Rexton’s face contorted, his growl vibrating through the floorboards. "Seraphina! How dare you!"

The roar that ripped from Rexton’s throat wasn’t the sweet whispers of the man who had promised me a life of love. 

It was monstrous. 

My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, and my skin felt cold, as if the life were draining out of me right there in the nursery.

"I... I didn't..." I whispered, my voice sounding small and hollow against the backdrop of Dahlia’s hysterical wailing.

But Rexton didn't look at me. He looked at his son, his eyes black with undiluted rage. 

Then, the strange woman stepped forward. She moved with a hitch in her gait, her clouded eyes fixed on the crying baby. 

The air around her reeked, choking me faster than my disbelief. 

“This is bad.” She blurted, her voice like dry leaves. She leaned closer to Dahlia, her hands hovering over Arlo. “The fall has worsened his condition.” 

Rexton’s jaw tightened. “Save him, Healer.”

Healer? 

Her scent was too dark, too rotten for a Healer.

A chill ran down my spine as she spoke, her soulless eyes slowly landing on me. “Mere blessings can’t save his fractured soul now. Not anymore.”

“Then what do we do?” Dahlia sobbed, clutching Arlo to her chest.

Although I did nothing wrong, I wanted nothing more than to make sure the child would be better. He was, after all, innocent.

But when the dark Healer spoke again, I was struck with the need to protect my own rather than Arlo. 

“A blood transfusion ritual.” The dark Healer began, almost innocently, until she added, “Blood from a close relative. The firstborn of the family is a perfect fit. Her blood is the only threat strong enough to stitch his—”

“No…” I gasped, the word escaping me before she could finish speaking. 

Even before I could think. 

My wet eyes cut to Rexton. I pleaded to the man he used to be—the one who would have adored Celeste. “You can’t let her touch Celeste. S-she is only two months old, and she is still recovering from t-that f-fever…”

“You should have thought of that before you dropped my son out of jealousy!” Rexton spat, his voice hitting me like rocks. 

“You owe this to Arlo.” He added, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper. “You have to—”

"I didn't!” I tried to tell my truth again. “I swear by the goddess, Rexton. She pulled me—"

“Enough!” Rexton snapped, cutting me off. “You’re to be crowned Luna, but you fail to think about the pack’s well-being. If my heir dies because of your spite, we’re all doomed.”

“B-but Celeste is your c-child too. She’s just as important.” I uttered, my voice cracking.

“We only need her to donate just a little blood. It won’t hurt her, Sera.” Rexton said, taking a step towards me. 

He tried to soften his voice and expression, but his eyes were still dark with dominance. “Do this. Save Arlo, and I’ll marry you immediately. Tomorrow, I’ll give you the grandest coronation ceremony.”

I stared at him, the man who thought a stupid ceremony could convince me to put my daughter in danger. I looked at the dark healer, who gazed back at me with the hope that I would break. 

Then, at Dahlia, who had stopped wailing and wore a devilish smirk behind Rexton.

Realization didn’t just sink in. It kicked rage and determination into my core.

“I will never!” I gritted, voice suddenly stone-cold. “I did nothing to your son, and you will not touch a single hair on my daughter’s head.” 

I was done. 

Done with his empty promises, lies, and manipulation. 

I didn't wait for his response. I turned and stormed out with the heat of my rage and despair.

**********

Later that night, I sat in the dim light of my bedroom,  a bottle of the strongest liquor I could find half empty on the table.

Every swallow felt like fire, but it couldn’t burn out the image of Dahlia’s smirk and Rexton’s accusations. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” I whimpered to myself, knowing it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

I had to find a way to get Celeste out of here before that happened.  

While still thinking of the best way to escape successfully, the door opened, and Rexton walked in. He looked tired, yet his Alpha aura suffocated me.

“Leave,” I mutter, taking another mouthful of drink. “I have nothing to say to you.”

"Sera, stop this," he said, walking toward me. "You're being unreasonable. You're hurt, I understand, but—"

"Hurt?" I stood up, the alcohol making the room tilt. 

I pointed a finger at his chest. "I want to end this, Rexton. I want you to sever every tie to me. I want to be dead to you and this pack. Take your human, take your precious heir, and leave us alone!"

His eyes flared. "You don't mean that."

Suddenly, his hands caught my waist, and before I could move, his lips crashed against mine. It wasn't a kiss of love.

It was a kiss of possession. 

A desperate attempt to use the passion we once had to bend me to his will.

For a heartbeat, the old heat flickered, but it was immediately smothered by the memory of him demanding Celeste’s blood.

I shoved him. 

I put every ounce of my strength—and Kia’s fury—into it.

Rexton stumbled back, his eyes widening in pure, unadulterated shock. I had never rejected him.

Until now.

"Don't touch me," I spat, wiping my mouth as if his touch were poison. "I’m not your toy, and I’m not your Luna."

Rexton’s face twisted. The shock vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying authority. The air in the room grew heavy, his Alpha's command vibrating through the floorboards.

"I know what you’re up to, Seraphina." He seethed, his voice a low, lethal rumble. "You think you can withhold what the pack needs to get your way. But you have no choice here!”

“W-what are y-you—” I stuttered, lunging toward the bed where Celeste lay.

But Rexton was faster.

He blocked my path, his height towering over me. He signaled toward the door, and two guards I didn't recognize stepped in.

"Confine her," Rexton ordered, his voice devoid of any warmth. "She is not to leave this room until the blood transfusion ritual is complete."

"No! Rexton! Don't you dare!" I screamed, lunging for him, but the guards caught my arms, their grip like iron.

I watched, helpless and screaming, as Rexton leaned over and scooped Celeste out of my bed. My daughter let out a sharp, startled cry as she was pulled from her blankets.

"She'll be returned when Arlo is stabilized," Rexton said, not even looking back at me as he walked out of the room with my child in his arms.

The door slammed behind him and the guards. The heavy click of the lock echoed like a gunshot to my heart.

I collapsed against the floor, my fingers clawing at the rug. The silence of the room was a living thing, mocking me.

"Rexton!" I howled, but only the empty walls answered.

I was a prisoner, and my child was about to be sacrificed.