Seraphina’s POV
The words hung in the air like a toxic cloud, poisoning every breath I tried to take. "Are you completely insane?" I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper as the full horror of what Elizabeth was suggesting crashed over like a tidal wave.
Harold’s oily smile widened, revealing those unnaturally white teeth. "Now, now, there’s no need for dramatics," he said, his voice carrying the patronizing tone of soone who was used to getting exactly what he wanted. "I understand this might co as a surprise, but I assure you, I can provide very well for you and your... child."
The way he said ’child’ made my skin crawl. "This is not happening," I said, taking a step backward toward the door. "I don’t know what kind of sick arrangent you two have cooked up, but I’m leaving. Right now."
Elizabeth moved to block my path with surprising speed, her perfectly manicured hand shooting out to wrap around my wrist like a steel trap. "Sit down, Seraphina," she commanded. "We’re not finished talking."
"Yes, we are," I snapped, trying to wrench my arm free from her grip. "I wouldn’t marry that man if he was the last person on earth. Find soone else for your disgusting little sche."
Harold chuckled, a sound like oil bubbling in a hot pan. "Oh, my dear, I think you misunderstand your position here. This isn’t really a request."
Elizabeth’s grip tightened on my wrist, her fingernails digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks. “You’re going to marry Harold, and you’re going to be grateful for the opportunity," she said, her voice taking on that sweet.
"Let go of ," I said, my voice growing stronger despite the fear clawing at my chest. "I’m an adult, Elizabeth. You can’t force to do anything."
"Can’t I?" Her smile was like a razor blade wrapped in silk. "Tell , darling, how is little Adrian enjoying his new school? Silver Moon Harbor Elentary, isn’t it? Such a lovely place. So many children playing outside every day at recess."
The blood in my veins turned to ice water. "What did you just say?"
Elizabeth continued conversationally, as if she were discussing the weather instead of threatening my child. "Usually that friend of yours—Ophelia, is it?—picks him up. But accidents happen, don’t they?"
White-hot rage exploded through my system, so pure and intense that my vision actually tinted red around the edges. Ayla snarled in my mind, her ntal voice sharp with protective fury that matched my own.
"If you go anywhere near my son," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that carried more nace than any scream, "I will kill you. I will tear your throat out with my bare hands and dance on your corpse."
Harold laughed, actually laughed, as if my desperate threat was the most amusing thing he’d heard all day. "Such spirit! I do love a woman with fire. Don’t worry, my dear—once we’re married, I’ll teach you all sorts of ways to channel that passion.
The implications in his voice made bile rise in my throat. I lunged toward the door, but Elizabeth’s grip on my wrist was like iron, and Harold moved with surprising speed for such a soft-looking man, blocking my escape route completely.
"Now, now," Elizabeth said, her voice taking on that mockingly gentle tone she’d used when I was a child and she was about to deliver so particularly cruel punishnt. "Let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Harold has very generously offered to overlook your... past mistakes and give you a proper ho. The least you can do is show so gratitude."
"I’d rather die," I spat, still struggling against her grip.
"That can be arranged too," Harold said pleasantly, stepping closer until I could sll his sour breath and the overwhelming cologne that couldn’t quite mask the scent of sweat and sothing else that made my wolf recoil in disgust. "But I think you’d prefer the alternative."
They began dragging toward the back of the house, toward the bedroom I’d once shared with Valerie during the worst years of my childhood. My feet slipped on the worn linoleum as I fought against them, my heart hamring so hard I could feel it in my throat.
"You know," Harold was saying to Elizabeth as they manhandled down the narrow hallway, "once this is settled, I’ll wire the first paynt imdiately. Fifty thousand should cover your husband’s dical expenses for quite so ti."
"Fifty thousand?" Elizabeth’s voice perked up with interest. "Harold, you’re too generous."
"Nonsense. A beautiful young woman like this is worth every penny. And once we’re properly married, well..." He squeezed my shoulder with a pudgy hand that felt like a dead fish. "I’m sure we’ll find all sorts of ways to keep each other entertained."
They shoved into the small back bedroom, and the familiar sll of mothballs and old perfu brought back a flood of terrible mories.
Harold was already loosening his tie, his pale eyes roving over my body with obvious hunger. "Now then," he said, his voice taking on that oily, coaxing tone again. "Why don’t we get better acquainted? Once you see what I can offer you, I’m sure you’ll be much more... cooperative."
Harold reached for the top button of his shirt, and sothing inside snapped like a breaking wire. This was not happening. Not again.
My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. On the nightstand beside the bed sat an old wine bottle—empty, but heavy, with a thick glass base that would make an excellent club.
"You know what, Harold?" I said, forcing my voice to sound defeated and resigned. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should be more... grateful."
His face lit up with triumph, and he took a step closer, already reaching for the zipper of my dress. "That’s more like it, my dear. I knew you’d see reason eventually."
The mont his sweaty hands touched my skin, I moved.
My fingers closed around the wine bottle’s neck, and I swung it with every ounce of strength I possessed. The heavy glass connected with Harold’s skull with a sickening crack that echoed through the small room like a gunshot.
Harold’s eyes went wide with shock before rolling back in his head. He toppled backward like a felled tree, his soft body hitting the floor with a wet thud that shook the entire house.
"SERAPHINA!" Elizabeth shrieked, lunging toward with her claws extended.
But I was ready for her. As she reached for , I caught her wrist and twisted, using her own montum to spin her around. Then I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of her forearm, biting down with all the fury of years of suppressed rage.
Elizabeth’s scream was like breaking glass as my teeth found bone. The tallic taste of blood filled my mouth, but I held on, grinding my jaw until I felt sothing give way beneath my teeth.
"You little animal!" she gasped, trying to shake off. "You savage little—"
I released her arm and shoved her away from with enough force to send her stumbling into the wall. Harold was groaning on the floor, a trickle of blood running down his forehead from where the bottle had connected, but he was still breathing.
I didn’t wait to see if either of them would recover enough to stop .
I ran.
Out of the bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room where my childhood nightmares still lingered like smoke. I burst through the front door and into the cool evening air, my heart hamring against my ribs as adrenaline flooded my system.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely get my keys into the car’s ignition. Behind , I could hear Elizabeth’s voice rising to a hysterical shriek as she called for help, probably for Harold rather than for .
I gunned the engine and tore out of the driveway, gravel spraying behind my tires as I put as much distance as possible between myself and that house of horrors. In my rearview mirror, I could see Elizabeth standing on the front porch, clutching her bleeding arm and screaming sothing I couldn’t make out over the roar of my engine.
I drove without really seeing the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles had gone white. My whole body was shaking with the aftermath of violence and terror, and I could still taste Elizabeth’s blood in my mouth.
I was halfway back to Silver Moon Harbor when my phone rang.
The sound cut through my panicked thoughts like a knife, and I fumbled for the device with trembling fingers. Ophelia’s na flashed on the screen, and relief flooded through . She would have picked up Adrian from school by now. Everything would be fine.
"Ophelia?" I answered, barely keeping my voice steady.
"Sera!" Her voice exploded through the speaker, sharp with panic and terror. "Where are you? Please tell you picked up Adrian early today!"
My blood turned to ice in my veins. "What? No, I... Why? What’s wrong?"
Ophelia’s voice was rising to a frantic pitch. “The school said Adrian was picked up by soone!"
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