John And Seraphina Novels & Stories

Since then, he left New York City and the only time was when he came to Sophia’s funeral and he ignored me. And now, he was here on the day I was released from Jail. I took a step back, folding my hands behind me. “How can I help you?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t need your help but you need mine” Confusion swirled through my mind. “What are you talking about?” “I have an offer for you” “What offer?” My breathing hitched when Rowan took a step forward, almost closing the space between us, and the smile on his face died. “Marry me, Seraphina”

"Now that I control the Hawthornes, I don't need you anymore." Seraphina trembled—not from fear, but from rage. ... One evening, Julian sat arrogantly on the sofa, legs crossed like a king surveying his domain. Behind him stood Edmund and Margaret Hawthorne, heads bowed low, their backs bent like servants. Seraphina approached, carrying a basin of warm water and a clean towel. She knelt. As she washed Julian's feet, his expression darkened with irritation. Without warning, he kicked her away. She hit the floor hard.

"Why... how are you here?!" "Why? Are you surprised to see me?" Seraphina stepped forward, staring directly into Juna’s eyes without the slightest trace of fear. "Of course I came looking for you. It's me, Seraphina. The poor college girl you defiled and whose future you destroyed in that nightclub room!"

"I was just curious." "About this?" Seraphina asked, turning the picture around. "That's my daughter, mate, and pup," Seraphina said, a sad note in her tone. Annie looked at the picture gasping she pointed at the man in it. "John," she whispered barely audible. Following her finger Sera corrected. "No, that's Blaise, my daughter's mate. They are gone—all of them." Bravery interwoven with trepidation—the blonde curls and green eyes in her memories weren't just a coincidence. John, or rather, Blaise, had been a part of Seraphina's life. Annie gathered the courage to ask, "Gone where?"

And I am very thankful to him for helping me to get through this. Your Once Beloved Wife, Seraphina

******** That afternoon, I'm helping Knox in the garage when Seraphina appears again. "Sorry to interrupt." She smiles at Knox. "But Jolie, could I talk to you for a moment? Privately?" Knox looks at me, clearly reluctant to leave us alone. I nod that it's okay. Once he's gone, Seraphina's expression shifts, she is less sympathetic, more calculating. "I want to be honest with you." She crosses her arms. "Woman to woman." "About what?" I stay by the workbench, keeping distance between us.

“The great Joachim Knight brings a human to The Crimson Veil after a century of not showing interest in anyone. Not just any human either—a boisterous rebellious one who publicly offends Queen Seraphina and survives to prove it.” “Seraphina is conceited,” I complained again, feeling tired already. “Seraphina is jealous,” offered Elias as a gentle correction. “She has been attempting for a hundred to gain a position in your heart and then you suddenly appear with a human woman dressed in a dress the color of her rage and you pretend that you would destroy the entire world to keep her safe.” He shook his head taking a slow sip. “Naturally she feels jealous. You already crowned the girl your qu

He walked towards her and spoke. "Follow me inside, " Hearing his voice, Seraphina downcast her eyes. He turned a little frustrated with her silent treatment but spoke nothing and just walked inside his house and she also wordlessly followed him. Seraphina followed his steps and stepped inside that house . She showed no interest in looking at the beautiful and classy decor and interior of that mansion surrounding her . She just looked down at the floor, until. "She's Seraphina Miller , " Seraphina heard him telling someone and then she felt a presence coming closer to her.

But the thought had my wolf pushing to come out, itching to kill any male who'd even dare be within fifty feet of her, looking at her romantically. Trotting back into the study, I walk over to my desk, open a hidden drawer, and pull out an old leather-skin book—a personal journal from centuries ago. The pages are filled with inked ramblings about a woman named Seraphina, the first and only woman who ever made me feel anything strangely romantic or affectionate… and who also died because of it. But the more I read, the more an unsettling truth dawned on me: Seraphina had a striking connection to Scarlett. They were fierce in their own way, strong women who couldn't easily be controlled. If my