Seraphina Unordinary Novels & Stories

“No, Mathias, you need to listen to me. When I met Nevaeh, I was scared. I was scared of what I felt for her and what might happen to her if she entered my world. Since we’ve gotten here, you’ve experienced a variety of things that have shaken your world. But I have to tell you, you’re being an idiot.” My head snaps forward at his comment. Not a lot of people dare speak to me in such a tone. I’m Mathias Black, head of the Council. A centuries-old Seraphim who has killed legions. Giving Mikhail my most withering scowl, I manage to grit out, “I think you need to walk away, Mikhail.”

And for the first time in years… He smiled. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t cruel. It was satisfied. Because finally… Justice had teeth. — Meanwhile: Seraphina. She didn’t sleep. Instead, she stood at the tall windows of her sitting room, hands gripping the velvet curtain, heart a quiet roar in her chest. The gown was gone. She wore silk again. Soft. Black. A slip that clung to her like steam in a winter mirror. She should’ve felt powerful. She should’ve felt victorious.

I rolled my eyes with a loud thunder, “drink it. Now!” Slowly, the maids raised the bowls to their lips, their fear instantly outweighing their suspicion. I watched them all with satisfaction. All except one. You know who… Seraphina hadn’t touched hers. She was eyeing the bowl with a strange intuition. Of course. The freak always sensed danger. “You!” I snapped. “Why haven’t you drunk yours yet?” She raised her head slowly. Her eyes locked with mine without fear. “What’s in this, My Lady?” she asked without trembling.

April 28th, 202X Today, I met Seraphina for the first time. She didn’t come roaring out with claws bared or eyes gleaming with inherited power. No—she glided down the corridor like a ghost born of spring. Her scent—gods, her scent—was something out of a baker’s dream: warm strawberries and sun-drenched cream, soft and deceptively sweet. It clung to her skin, her hair, the hem of her pale silk dress.

Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, fingers twitching as if still feeling the ghost of the power that had erupted from her. Sebastian sat up front, one elbow resting on the door, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed forward but his mind was miles away. His mother’s letter still burned in his inner coat pocket, a weight both comforting and agonizing. “You okay?” Scarlett asked Seraphina softly. Seraphina blinked, then turned toward her slowly. “I think so. I feel like… like I’ve been asleep for years and suddenly someone threw me into a storm.” “You woke up fighting,” Scarlett replied gently. “That’s more than most can say.”

"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!"

Author’s POV Seraphina didn’t sit. She stood rigid, towering over the sofa like a storm cloud about to break. Her dark eyes burned as they flicked between Isabella and the dean. "You are both heartless,” she said, voice low and trembling with barely contained fury. “I will admit it, I wanted that black she-wolf gone from our university. I voted for the motion and pushed for it. But this?” She gestured wildly toward the window, where distant sirens still wailed faintly over the pack. “This has wrecked me. Mentally. Physically. Financially. There are bodies rotting in the streets right now. I had to drive through barricades and blood just to get here. And you two are sitting here toasting like

"Why would I trust a single word from the woman who handed my husband his microphone yesterday?" "You wouldn't." Seraphina smiled. "Which is why I'm not going to ask you to. I'm going to prove it." She studied me a moment longer — the way a card player studies a final hand — and whatever she saw seemed to settle something in her. "I went into this looking for the thread that unravels you," she said. "That's how I was raised. You find the loose end of a person, and you hold it, and they belong to you. I'm very good at it. I found yours in an afternoon." Her smile faded entirely. "And then I pulled it, expecting to watch you come apart — and instead I came apart. Because the thread wasn't your

Liora leaned closer to me, her perfume light “You’ve been so generous with the new collection, darling. Securing that runway slot on short notice… Seraphina’s work deserves it.” “She deserves it,” I said, thumb tracing Liora’s knuckles. “Talent like hers shouldn’t be wasted.” Seraphina crossed her ankles, fighting the ache. I sent another text. Don’t clench. Feel me dripping out of you. Think about how I’m going to bend you over the first private corner I find tonight and fill you again. This time she read it under the cover of adjusting her seatbelt. Her lips parted on a silent exhale. When she looked up, defiance and desperate need warred in her eyes, she set the phone down.