All Chapters of The Moon Witch’s Second Life: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Seraphine’s POV Sleep came hard those first weeks, and when it finally came, I usually wished it hadn’t. That night I was more tired than usual, worn thin from another day of keeping Elowen’s voice in my throat and her posture in my spine, careful in every hallway in case Rhydian was watching or Lysandra was listening. I had spent the afternoon in the yard pretending to study the healer’s garden while actually counting guards, exits, and the number of steps between my window and the tree line, because some part of me still had not decided whether I was staying or running. Toren had walked past twice while I worked, nodding at me the way he used to when I was Luna, before catching himself and turning the gesture into something colder and more formal. I wanted to tell him it was still me, but I didn’t. Instead, I went back to the herbs, my hands shaking slightly as I worked with stems I used to know by feeling alone. By dinner, my whole body ached in a way that had nothing to do

Lysandra’s POV I’d been standing outside that door longer than either of them realized, close enough to hear what was happening without catching every word, and it was enough. More than enough. He looked at that witch the way he used to look at her. His claimed mate. Even wearing a stranger’s face, even after everything I’d arranged so carefully to keep her from ever standing in this house again, he looked at her like the year between us hadn’t happened at all. It made something in my chest go tight, and I ignored it, because there was work to do and feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to accomplish any of it. I’d planted the item three days ago, a scrap of parchment, half-burned, with a symbol on it that any witch-hunter worth the name would recognize as a summoning ward. I tucked it into the lining of the satchel Elowen had brought with her, the one the guards had searched and somehow, conveniently, failed to search thoroughly enough. All I had to do was find it again in fro

Rhydian’s POV She was gone before I could ask another question, the door clicking shut behind her, and I sat alone on the edge of the bed with my hand pressed against the mark at my collarbone, her words still ringing in my ears. I dismissed her usual guards the morning after the parchment. Toren frowned when I gave the order. “Why?” “I’ll watch her.” His eyes shifted toward Elowen’s door, then back to me. “You?” “I’ll watch her.” Toren held my gaze for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Of course, Alpha.” So it became meals together, because I told myself it was easier than posting someone outside her door three times a day. Walks around the yard, because the fresh air was good for her, or so I claimed, when really I wanted an excuse to be near her without someone watching every glance. She was different once we were alone. Sharper, funnier than I expected from someone who spent most of her time guarded and quiet. She even teased me about the way I paced when I was thinking

Seraphine’s POV He came through the door without knocking, which by now should have stopped surprising me, yet somehow never did. “Vaelan,” he said, skipping any greeting or explanation. “Does that mean anything to you?” I went cold at the name. I kept my face as still as I could, but it wasn’t enough. His eyes narrowed as he watched me. “Why would it?” I knew the name mattered the moment he said it. I just didn’t know how much he already knew. For months, I had been careful about what I said, careful about the memories I let slip, careful not to give anyone a reason to question the life I claimed as my own. Now Rhydian was standing in front of me with a name I had spent all this time trying not to hear. “Because Eldric found a ledger with purchases that lined up with the night Seraphine died. The ingredients are all there, and so is that name, written in the margins over and over, like whoever was buying them answered to it.” I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly unst

Seraphine’s POV His eyes had changed. They shifted from silver-black to something darker before flickering again, and his whole body went rigid as his hand tightened around mine until the pressure became painful. “Rhydian.” I said his name sharply, trying to reach him. “Rhydian, look at me.” He did not answer. His breathing grew rough, his chest rising and falling too quickly, and then he doubled over with a low groan, both hands going to his ribs as though he were trying to hold something inside him. “What is happening to you?” “It hurts,” he said through clenched teeth, sweat gathering along his hairline. “Something is wrong. It has never done this before. It has never…” His words broke off when his whole body jerked as another wave of pain passed through him. His fingers slipped from mine, and he caught himself against the side of the bed. “Rhydian.” “I cannot control it,” he breathed. His voice sounded strained, almost frightened, and that frightened me more than anything