Book Seraphina Novels & Stories

That wasn't to say Queen Nox had fully made up her mind on the matter, but there was only so long that her daughters could engage with callers from vetted eligible bachelors before negotiations had to proceed ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ Meanwhile, Seraphina was dressed delightfully in a soft, shimmery dress of black beads that shimmered in the sunlight. Wearing her signature breastplate, with sharper features than her younger sisters, as all Raven women wore daily. The rays enveloped the princess as she sat at the tall window of the library. A red leather-bound book with a gold inscription stamped into the cover was clasped tightly in her hands. The light danced off of the beads in a splendid fashion, casting

he added. No title. No explanation. Just she. I didn’t need to ask who Seraphina is unpredictable. You would never be able to tell her next move. Seraphina was already seated as I entered the hall. She was dressed in formal robes—white and silver—and her crown crooked on her head like she hadn’t bothered to fix it. Her eyes looked sunken, like she hadn’t slept at all. Because she hadn’t. I sat silently beside her, like I always did. But inside me, I couldn't stop thinking back to that day the high priestess met me at the garden.

Seraphina listened attentively as I poured out my story, my struggles, and my desperate need for answers. With a gentle nod, Seraphina began to weave her magic. She closed her eyes and murmured words that felt ancient and sacred, her hands moving gracefully as if guided by unseen forces. I watched in awe as the room seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, as if the very fabric of reality was bending to accommodate the mystical powers at play.

Then, in that same quiet, almost-whisper voice, she said, “Seraphina.” Gage and I both went still. “Seraphina,” I repeated. I had no idea what to expect, but this was definitely not it. “Is that what you want?” She nodded once, shy but determined now. “It’s the name of a character in my favorite book. She’s brave and she has magic in her eyes and… nobody ever calls her weird.” The words wrapped around my heart and squeezed. I couldn’t help it, a soft, warm laugh slipped out of me. Gage’s low chuckle joined mine a second later.

I brushed my hand over his hair once, then stepped back. My body felt heavier than armor. My head ached. My eyes burned. I dropped into the chair by the window and leaned my head back. Just a moment, I told myself. Just a moment to close my eyes. When I opened them again, I wasn’t in my house. The air was warm. The light was soft. And Seraphina was standing in front of me. She looked as she had in the moments before she gave birth — tired, but still holding herself with quiet strength. Her dress flowed lightly around her, her hair falling in loose waves.

I never knew that Tang Jing was a person who couldn't suppress his anger so well, it seems that love can really overpower one's mind. Zephyrine had obviously just gotten out of bed, she was wearing her hair in a cape and a halter lace nightgown with the strap on her right shoulder still seductively half slipped off. The look was sexy, but the words coming out of her mouth weren't sexy at all, "Orion you're still a son of a bitch, is your heart set on this damn book?!" "I'm not what," Zephyrine said, still as cold as if she'd eaten gunpowder, as she flung the book in her hands back into my arms, "Keep reading you!" With that, she turned her head and headed for the bedroom.

Several minutes later, soft footsteps echoed from the staircase and all three of us looked up instantly. Seraphina slowly descended the stairs wearing a loose cream dress, but the moment I saw her properly, guilt crashed into me painfully. She looked exhausted. The spark and glow she normally carried had dimmed completely and dark circles rested beneath her eyes like she had not been sleeping properly. Even the babies probably felt all this stress too. Lysander and I stood immediately. “Sera—” “Phina—” But before either of us could even move closer, Seraphina raised her hand sharply, stopping us instantly. “Don't!” her voice was warning like she could kill us if we dared disobeyed and her co

I found my circle at the festival's edge. Seraphina sat on a stone bench, her golden braid catching the lantern light, her wings furled tight against her back in the posture of someone who'd been wounded by hope too many times and was still, despite everything, hoping. She held a cup of cider she wasn't drinking, her eyes tracking the pavilion's crowd with the vigilance of an Anchor who felt her charge's ley lines even when they weren't visible.

This wasn’t anything close to Alpha behavior. This wasn’t who I was. “Maybe I should show you what it means to actually put the things that are most important before yourself,” Seraphina said, her voice dropping degrees to something colder, more dangerous. She reached to her side and pulled out a whip—long and wickedly barbed with spikes, gleaming in the dimming light. She wore minimal armor, just a pleated skirt and bandages wrapped tightly around her chest. I didn’t need my wolf instincts to tell that she was oozing with unbelievable confidence.

I said. Remi looked up from the screen."You want him in the room." "I want him at a table near the back," I said. "Close enough to see everything and far enough that nobody will think he matters. Remi looked at me for a long moment, and he said, "Seraphina, are you sure about this? I walked back to the table, picked up the gala invitation, held it and looked at my own name printed across the front of it. Seraphina Vaughn, not Cole, not his wife, not the woman who ironed his shirts and endured his mother's voice and carried a loss alone in a white hospital room at 3 am.