SERAPHINA'S POV
I didn't ask the question because I cared about the answer.
I asked because she was breaking right in front of me, and I wanted to see exactly how the pieces looked.
Up close on the balcony, it was painfully obvious. Ivy's shoulders curved inward like she was trying to fold herself into nothing. Her breathing came too shallow, too uneven , each inhale catching like a sob she refused to let out. This wasn't simple fear. Fear was clean; it sharpened the edges. What clung to Ivy now was heavier, messier, more dangerous.
Grief.
Raw, human grief over that girl Maria. The human friend she had failed to protect. The one whose blood was now on her hands, even if indirectly. I could smell the guilt on her like cheap perfume, thick and cloying. She mourned that worthless human like a sister, like a piece of her own soul had been carved out. Not like a mistake. Not like a necessary casualty in our world.
Like a loss that was tearing her apart from the inside.
My gaze lingered on her face, tracing every fracture she was trying and failing to hide. Dried tear tracks still stained her cheeks. Her eyes were red-rimmed, distant, lost in memories.
Interesting.
Most of our kind learned the lesson early. You take a life, human or otherwise and you move on. You don't linger. You don't look back. Regret was a weakness that got you killed, or worse, exposed. But Ivy? She was drowning in it. Clinging to her softness like it could bring the dead girl back.
She hasn't learned anything.
Or maybe no one ever taught her properly.
That thought settled quietly at the back of my mind. Because tonight, under the full moon, the clan would not allow ignorance. They would not forgive hesitation.
If she stepped into that circle like this fractured, mourning, soft she would break.
Completely.
And yet… I had to admit one uncomfortable truth. Ivy was not weak. She was stronger than she realized.
stronger than even she herself seemed to understand. That raw, dangerous power simmered just beneath her tears and self-loathing.
I had felt it during our fight in the forest. If she ever stopped mourning Maria and started embracing what she was, she could become truly lethal. The thought both intrigued me and made my hatred burn hotter. She had already taken one life that mattered to me. I wouldn't let her waste the power that let her do it.
My gaze flicked toward the horizon. The sunlight was already dulling, the gold thinning into something weaker, temporary. Time was moving. It always was.
Not yet.
If she shattered before tonight, there would be nothing left to test. Nothing left to shape. And I wasn't done observing her. Not even close.
Broken things were simple. They either stayed broken… or they learned how to cut.
I needed to know which one Ivy would become.
The silence between us had stretched too long. Finally, she broke it, her voice small and wavering.
"Wh… why would you ask that at a time like this?"
Good. Exactly the crack I was waiting for.
I let a small, soft smile touch my lips the same reassuring mask I had worn since the moment I entered this house. Gentle. Safe. The kind of smile that made wounded things lean in without realizing they were being led.
"I'm just curious, Ivy," I said gently, my tone light, almost harmless. "Your father… he treats you differently. I've noticed."
That was all it took. Not an accusation. Not pressure. Just quiet observation.
She flinched visibly, her shoulders tightening further. I stepped closer, slow enough not to startle her, and lifted my hand to her face. My fingers brushed her tear-streaked skin with deliberate softness before I tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet my eyes.
Her green eyes were beautiful in their brokenness drowning and desperately searching for something, anything, to hold onto. Pain made people honest. And Ivy was soaked in it.
"I don't want to talk about it, and this isnt about you, i just dont feel like it now," she whispered, her voice catching, fragile enough to shatter on the next breath. Fresh tears welled up, threatening to spill again. "Maria… she was my only friend. She didn't deserve… I should have protected her. I should have"
Her words choked off into a quiet sob. She looked away, but I kept my fingers gentle on her chin, holding her there just long enough.
"Of course you don't want to talk about it," I murmured, my voice as soft as silk. No resistance. No insistence. "That's fine. You don't have to."
Relief flickered across her face small, desperate, real. And just like that, she leaned closer without actually moving. Predictable. Grief made people crave kindness, even from strangers.
"Come," I added, letting my hand slide down until it found hers. Her fingers were ice-cold and trembling. "I'll walk you back to your room."
She hesitated for only a second, then let me take her hand. I didn't tighten my grip. I didn't rush her.
I simply guided her patiently.
The way you guide something wounded so it doesn't realize it's being led straight into the trap.
By the time we reached her room, her breathing had softened just slightly, though the grief still hung heavy around her like a shroud. She sat on the edge of the bed, already folding in on herself again, shoulders slumped, eyes distant as memories of Maria clearly played behind them.
"Get some rest, Ivy," I said quietly, watching her with that same gentle mask. "It's tonight. The full moon waits for no one."
The words lingered in the air between us like a blade wrapped in velvet.
A reminder.
A warning.
A promise.
I turned and left before she could say anything else, closing the door softly behind me.
There was nothing more to take from her… not yet.
******
In my room Lucas sat on the edge of the grand bed, elbows on his knees, hands gripping his temples like the weight of the night was crushing him.
I moved behind him slowly, the velvet of my dress brushing the floor. My fingers settled on his broad shoulders, digging lightly into the rigid knots of muscle.
"Why don't you just soften up?" I whispered against his ear, voice low and teasing.
"I can't," he growled, voice strained. "It's tonight. The clan… I don't know what they'll do to her."
I didn't care about his daughter. I only cared that right now, this powerful man, the one who ruled them all was mine to unravel.
I stepped between his knees, took his large hands, and placed them on my waist. "Then let me take it away."
His stormy eyes lifted to mine, hungry and desperate. In one rough motion he pulled me closer, claiming my mouth in a deep, bruising kiss. There was nothing soft about it. His tongue invaded, demanding, tasting of frustration and barely-leashed power.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers softly opening his shirt until I could push it off his shoulders, revealing the hard, sculpted muscle I secretly craved.
My hands roamed greedily over his chest as he stood, towering over me, and spun me around. His chest pressed to my back, one arm banding around my waist while the other swept my hair aside.
His mouth attacked my neck, hot, open-mouthed kisses, teeth grazing, sucking hard enough to leave marks.
"You drive me fucking insane," he growled against my skin, voice rough with need.
Good. Lose yourself in me.
I arched back into him, grinding against the hard length pressing into my ass. "Then take what you need."
He didn't hesitate.
The zipper of my dress hissed down. Rich red velvet slid off my body and pooled at my feet. His hands were everywhere. His rough palms cupped my breasts firmly, pinching my nipples until I gasped, then sliding down to shove my lace panties aside.
Two thick fingers plunged inside me without warning, stroking deep and fast, curling just right. I moaned loudly, hips rocking against his hand, already soaked for him.
He spun me again, lifted me, and dropped me onto the silk sheets. In seconds he was over me, shoving his pants down just enough to free himself.
He was thick, heavy, and rock-hard. With one brutal thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside me, stretching my legs wide open.
A sharp cry tore from my throat.
He didn't give me time to adjust. He fucked me hard, deep, punishing strokes that made the heavy bed creak and slam against the wall.
My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back as I met every savage thrust. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixing with my breathless moans and his low, animalistic grunts.
"Harder," I gasped, nails raking down his back.
"Take it all out on me."
He snarled and obeyed, pounding into me faster, deeper, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over until my vision blurred.
Pleasure coiled tight and vicious in my belly. I clenched around him, crying out as my orgasm crashed through me, sharp, intense, soaking his cock as my body shook beneath him.
Lucas followed with a guttural roar, slamming deep one last time and spilling hot and thick inside me, his hips jerking with every pulse until he was spent.
We lay there panting, his heavy body pinning me to the bed, sweat-slick skin pressed together. His arm stayed wrapped possessively around me, breath hot against my neck.
"You make it too easy to forget," he muttered, voice hoarse.
I smiled against his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there while my mind whispered the truth I would never say aloud.
That's exactly why I do it.
Even as I held him, letting him think he was in control, my thoughts drifted downstairs to the girl waiting for the full moon.
Ivy.
Tonight, I would watch her face the clan.
And I couldn't wait.