John And Seraphina Novels & Stories

“But if you’re lying to me—” “I’m not,” Seraphina interrupted, her voice steady. “I want to help you, Bjorn. And together, we’ll get Andrine back.” Bjorn’s eyes flickered with a dangerous resolve as he clenched his fists. “Then let’s do it.” Seraphina’s smirk grew, satisfaction curling on her lips. Everything was falling into place. Seraphina’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched the determination settle in Bjorn’s eyes. She could feel the grip of her plan tightening around him, like a trap being set. She leaned back, her posture relaxed but her mind racing with the next steps.

When your son's bedtime stories came from mommy because daddy was always at another business dinner? "Ladies." I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "If you'll excuse me, I have another appointment." "Of course! Don't let us keep you from that perfect life of yours!" Mrs. Whitmore's laugh tinkled like breaking champagne flutes. I made it to the elevator before the words really hit. Perfect life. They saw what I let them see. The authentic Sera Blackwood, wife of Jonathan Blackwood, old money, new success. Mother to Oliver, the sweetest eight year old who still believed in magic and happy endings. Part-time art authenticator who worked "for fun" because surely Jonathan pr

It wasn’t a prison, but it wasn’t freedom either. A quiet knock startled me. “Come in,” I called, my voice hoarse. The door swung open, and a woman stepped in, her presence so vibrant it was almost jarring. She had long, dark curls and an easy smile that immediately softened the tension coiled in my stomach. “You must be Seraphina,” she said, her voice light and warm. “I’m Lilliana. Rafael’s sister.” I blinked. She looked nothing like him. There was no sharp edge to her, no coldness. Where Rafael was all shadows and quiet menace, she was golden warmth.

Yours — always a little too much, Seraphina

From holding the monster back, but standing in the ancient ruins, with Sarah trembling beside him and the priest's palm glowing against her chest, he realized control was an illusion. Sarah's breath hitched as the priest whispered a name she had buried deep: “Seraphina.” “She was the first to break the vow,” the priest said, his voice as brittle as bone. “And you, Sarah, carry her defiance in your blood.” John’s fingers tightened around hers as the vision crashed into both of them. white flames, chanting in a language older than time, a temple splitting in two beneath a crimson moon. Sarah’s knees buckled. John caught her before she hit the stone.

"Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes." After the greetings, he introduced Seraphina. "This is my wife, Seraphina." Mr. and Mrs. Holmes nodded at her warmly. Then, Mrs. Holmes smiled and added, "Seraphina and I actually crossed paths two years ago." "Oh? You know her?" Mr. Holmes asked, surprised. "Two years ago, when my father had that heart surgery at the Shadowfang Healing Center, Seraphina was Professor Bauer's assistant," Mrs. Holmes explained to her husband.

The moment we left, I watched young and old women flock toward Romano as though nothing had happened. His reputation as a charming Casanova truly knew no bounds. They didn't even care that they were attending a funeral. "That two-faced bastard!" Seraphina hissed the moment we were out of earshot, jerking her hand from mine. "How can he act like that on a day like this?" I sighed quietly. Looking at her properly, I realized how exhausted she appeared. Compared to the last time I'd seen her, she looked as though she'd aged ten years overnight.

I still remembered Lysara running toward me that day, her hands trembling, fear written all over her face as she begged for help. That was when I promised to protect her. The same way I protected Amelia, my younger sister. Unfortunately, not everything goes according to plan. Our closeness was constantly misunderstood, feeding rumors that should never have existed in the first place. Then I met Seraphina. She was graceful, intelligent, dignified. The middle daughter of House Vermont. I didn't want another man to claim her before I could, so I proposed. Our marriage was a happy one. A few times, she asked about the rumors surrounding Lysara and me. Each time, I reassured her there was nothing

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.