Seraphina Book Novels & Stories

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.

The ceiling above shimmered with faint enchantments—twinkling stars embedded in glass and crystal that pulsed like a living night sky. She trailed her fingers along the spines, marveling at the titles: The Lost Histories of Astira, The Blood of Forgotten Queens, Mystic Bonds and Magical Lineage, The Vaelthorne Chronicles… That last one gave her pause. She pulled it free and settled into the nearest high-backed chair, curling into its velvet seat like she belonged there. For hours, Seraphine read. Some books were stories, others records of laws, others theories of old magic—names and places she had only heard whispered by old women in markets. And others still… felt oddly familiar, like piece

Oisin smiled down at Seraphina. Placing the stone down on the table for the other mages to marvel at, Seraphina took to looking around the room to find what else had been revealed by the syphoning spell. A large blue and gold leather-bound book caught her attention on one of the shelves. An unexplainable, almost magnetic pull drew her to it. Fingers slightly trembling, she pulled the book out and turned it over to read the cover. ‘Le haghaidh mo iníon’ She ran her fingers over the gold imprinted font, her breath hitched in her throat.

These days her instincts have become very sharp . “Ouch! Seraphina growled as she hit her leg on a boulder .Crouching , she checked her big toe. It was bleeding. The flesh is broken. “Oh , it hurts, she cried in agony.Is this a bad omen? Should I turn back and return to the palace? Seraphina was about to turn around when she heard sounds of footsteps approaching from behind. She quickly jumped to the other side , hiding herself behind a big tree. Seraphina peeped out a little. She could see the image of a maiden in a full cloak , dragging another maiden .

I was speechless earlier because I was ashamed of Raphael's parents who were looking at me now and Raphael was next to me holding my hands tightly. "She is the daughter of the woman you helped with Raphael?" Raphael's mother spoke in firm manner again. "Mom can you talk in nicely instead?" Raphael tightened his grip on my hand. "Oh sorry." The woman turned to me so I politely nodded. "What is your name young woman?" She asked me. "Heart Serenity." I answered politely and she just nodded and looked at Raphael.

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.

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

Seraphina's POV I woke up to the scent of the ocean, salt and something deeply unfamiliar—the smell of someone else's home. If wishes were granted the moment they were made, this would have been a dream and I'd have been in London, with my students. My body ached, a dull throb lingering in my wrists where Rafael had gripped me the a few days ago. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on my chest, but I knew lying in bed wouldn’t do me any good.

Her head spun while she raised the book close to her. Without thinking twice, she targeted the book towards the girl standing in front of her with all the strength she could muster. Of course, she knew that it would be unsuccessful, but even so, she hated being this helpless. Instead of this being physical, Seraphine was aware the weakness was mental, and because of this, slowly she was able to stabilize herself. The book was caught by ‘Seraphine’. At this, Seraphine spat, “I swear to put an end to this. You will die by my hands. I will do anything to achieve that.”

His jaw tightened. He looked back at me. I did not know his face. I had never seen this man before in my life. But I hated his guts immediately. He straightened the cuff of his jacket, looked at me and said… "Hello, Seraphina. Been a long, long time.”