Chapter 3

I was lying in the infirmary scrolling through my phone when a video arrived from Vivienne.

It showed the aftermath of her "rescue." Caelum and Dorian flanked her on either side, attentive, protective, as if she were the most important person in the world. She was human—no immortality, no enhanced abilities, nothing—yet they treated her like royalty. They handed her warm blankets and fussed over her comfort while she sat there, one hand resting on her seven-month belly, smiling up at them.

"Thank you both," she said in the video. "You always show up right when I need you."

The comments underneath were full of envy.

"I wish I had someone who cared about me like that."

"Vivienne is so lucky. Both princes wrapped around her finger."

But a handful of people noticed what was missing.

"Where are the princes' wives? I heard Seraphina was attacked by exiles. Why didn't the princes go help her?"

Those comments disappeared quickly, buried under hundreds of fawning replies.

A minute later, Isolde held up her phone. She had received the exact same video.

Her voice was flat. "I felt nothing watching that. Absolutely nothing."

"Two husbands serving one woman. If that's what they want, let them have it."

I exhaled slowly. "You're right. It's not our problem anymore. I'm contacting the Blood Council now. I want to sever the bond. Today."

The Blood Council responded within twenty-four hours. They sent us the official severance application and forwarded copies to Caelum and Dorian for their signatures.

Two days passed. Neither of them responded.

I couldn't wait any longer. I called Caelum directly.

"Did you receive the severance papers?"

"Answer me."

What I got back was exactly what I should have expected.

"Are you still going on about this? The more you push, the less I want to come home. Stop testing me, Seraphina."

I didn't know what to say.

How had I spent two years married to this man without seeing how unbelievably selfish he was?

I was trying to collect my thoughts when Vivienne's voice drifted through the phone.

"Caelum, who are you talking to? Dinner's ready. Dorian and I have been waiting."

I heard him move, probably stepping into another room, trying to muffle the sound. Too late.

"No wonder you can't find time to sign our papers," I said. "You're busy playing house with Vivienne."

He panicked. "What is wrong with you? Vivienne is pregnant and she's human. She needs someone to look after her. I'm just helping out. It's not what you think."

The moment he mentioned her pregnancy, something inside me cracked open.

"You're looking after her baby? You dare talk about taking care of someone else's child? What about yours, Caelum? When did you ever look after me? When did you ever ask about your own baby?"

His voice turned cold. "This is absurd—"

Then Vivienne cut in, her tone sweet and measured: "Seraphina, I totally understand. Pregnant women get emotional, it's completely normal. Don't be too hard on yourself. Everything is for the children, right?"

Every word out of her mouth landed exactly where it was meant to.

My wound burned. I couldn't breathe properly.

And then Caelum, as if nothing had happened: "Ignore her, Vivienne. Your safety comes first. Whatever you need, I'll be there."

I stood there holding the phone, tears running down my face.

Two years of marriage. What had I been to him? Not a wife. Not a partner. A prop. Something he used to make Vivienne jealous, then forgot about the second she came back.

He ended the call without another word.

I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to move. The tears wouldn't stop.

Isolde was at my side in seconds. She pulled me into her arms and held on tight.

"Don't cry over him. He's not worth a single tear. Maybe your baby knew. Maybe it knew what kind of father it would have had, and it chose not to come into this world."

"Forget waiting for their signatures. We go straight to the Blood Council tomorrow and request a forced severance. We don't need their permission."