Unordinary Seraphina Novels & Stories

"I’m here. I’m safe. Everything is being taken care of by... a friend." She sat by the bed, pouring her heart out for the next sixty minutes. She spoke about her auditions and the mountain air, carefully omitting the parts about the marriage contract and the man who currently owned her signature. For that one hour, Seraphina wasn't a "miracle" or a specimen; she was just a daughter waiting for a miracle of her own. The Mordrake Gala: The Obsidian Throne

And today, he was coming to bear witness to her becoming Luna to Kaelion—the very man who had orchestrated her death once. The irony was poetic. Seraphina stood by the window of her room, dressed in a soft white gown that clung to her waist and flowed like mist around her ankles. Her hair was pinned in loose waves, a golden circlet resting atop her head—the crown of the future Luna. She should’ve felt victorious. Instead, her fingers trembled around the window drapes. Something was wrong. She felt it, the tension in the air the lingering fear and nervousness. The wind outside whispered warnings, and deep in her bones—no, deeper—inside the very marrow of her soul, her wolf stirred.

Yours — always a little too much, Seraphina

I shrugged, "A man named Romero." "Romero of the Isles?" "How do you know all of this when you've been here the entire time?" "Seraphine," Una said matter-of-factly. She rolled her shoulders, crossing one leg over the over. "Seraphine came to us as a girl. She was on the run, but from what, she never said. She was roughly twenty years old when she landed on our shores."

Sera's POV Three times this week, my eight year old had very unusually called me Sera instead of Mommy. Each of those times, Vivienne was in the room, smiling that patient smile that irritated me so much. She is really becoming irritating to me, I must do something about her presence around my son and husband. Let me focus on work for now…

"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

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.

Afterward, the young master’s parents were murdered. Seraphina’s parents still attended their funeral, and afterward, they left Elfhedge to settle in another city. Ten years later, Seraphina, now nine years old, was living a happy life with her parents. Her father, still working in the banking industry, had been promoted to vice president of a local bank.

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.”

Maybe, just maybe, she can find some clarity amidst the chaos. Seraphina throws something on, a simple halter-neck dress and packs her hair in a messy bun, and leaves for the park. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the tranquil park. Seraphina sits on a bench by the fountain, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her jaw set in determination. She’s been stewing in a mix of frustration and confusion since Alex showed up unexpectedly, and now, she’s ready to let it all out.