Book Seraphina Novels & Stories

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.

Now I've put everyone in danger while I'm tied here to a chair with a power suppressor on my neck like a snake being entangled on a pole of its own poison. Despite everything that unfolded before me like a costly hurricane, destroying my entire plan and breaking my resolve; I didn't say a word to them. I became a stone because that is who I am, a lifeless soul waiting for a miracle or a storm to take place and destroy everything. I got to realize so many things these few days. Seraphina was working for Felix's mother, she had to do this to stay alive and to make sure that Felix returns back to the Pack to claim his throne.

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.

“Because I know it. You are lying to me. I’m not stupid.’ Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain penetrating my head. My body shook like there was someone pouring a bucket of rocks on me and I began screaming, falling to the floor. Images, laughter, and cries appeared before me. “Jeremy.’ the girl who almost looked like me ran across the sand in her dirtied gown. Jeremy looked at the girl with a smile. “Seraphina. What are you doing here? I thought you were playing in the garden.’ “Yes, I was.’ The girl named Seraphina replied in a sweet tone and stretched her hands with a bouquet. “Look what I got for Seraphim.’ “Wow. It looks nice.’ Jeremy uttered and wiped off dirt from his shoes.

I protested, tears mixing with the rainwater. But it was too late. The mudslide engulfed us, and in the chaos, I lost sight of the elderly person and the child. "Seraphina!" Randy's desperate voice reached my ears, but before I could respond, the relentless rush of mud carried me away. "Seraphina!!!" I was drained of strength. On the verge of death, a thick book floated toward me. "I'm about to die, and this wretched book…" I didn't finish my sentence. The hefty book, with millions of words, pressed onto my face, forcing my head downward.

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.