CHAPTER FIVE

Second Chance

Seraphina's POV

I gasped awake, my chest heaving as my heart pounded wildly against my ribcage. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the shabby walls, the worn-out bed, and the biting chill. It was all painfully familiar.

I pinched my arm lightly, the sting confirming the impossible truth.

“Why am I here?” I whispered to the silence. My voice trembled. “I... died.”

The door creaked open, and Lyra stepped in, her lips curled into that familiar, smug smile. This time, her disdain wasn’t veiled—it was clear, and I felt its weight pressing on me.

“Get ready for the gala,” she snapped, tossing a velvet gown onto the bed. “Wear this and don’t embarrass me this time.”

My gaze fell on the dress. The memories came flooding back, sharp and relentless. It was the same gown, the one she’d forced on me before… before everything had gone so wrong.

My wolf stirred within me, her voice stronger than it had been in a long time. Second chance.

A tear slid down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly, replacing my sorrow with a smirk. This time, things would be different. This time, I wouldn’t trust blindly or let them hurt me.

This time, I would have my revenge.

“Are you listening?” Lyra snapped, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. “You’re acting weird.”

I met her gaze, my voice steady but laced with a sharpness I knew she wasn’t expecting. “Of course.”

The venomous retort she had on the tip of her tongue faltered, unease flashing in her expression. I relished it for a moment.

My wolf growled softly, her strength returning, her resolve fueling mine. This time, we fight. This time, we survive.

The decision was made. I couldn’t stay here. If I wanted to survive, I had to leave.

The gala unfolded like a haunting déjà vu. Lyra and Lucian draped over each other in their irritating display of affection, Freya’s hateful remarks slicing through the air, and the same faces murmuring the same meaningless conversations. Everything was exactly the same—except for one thing: Kael. He wasn’t here.

My fingers trembled around the empty glass in my hand. My mind churned. Where could I go? Who could I trust?

No one.

I forced my breathing to steady. I needed to leave. Now.

I bolted from the gala, ignoring the curious glances as I rushed toward the mansion. My heels clicked sharply on the floors, my urgency growing with every step.

When I entered the living room, Freya and Jon were there. My stomach dropped. They weren’t supposed to be here.

Jon glanced up first, his eyes softening with curiosity. “Hey, Seraphina.”

Freya’s glare cut through the air like a blade. “Where’s Lyra?” she demanded, her tone icy.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “She’s… with Lucian,” I stammered. “She told me to go ahead.”

Freya’s eyes lingered on me, suspicion flickering, but she waved me off with a dismissive nod.

Jon rose from the sofa and crossed the room, pulling a neatly wrapped box from the shelf. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” he said softly, offering the gift with a warm smile.

Tears pricked my eyes. In all my years here, Jon had been the only one who remembered my birthday. Lyra had forgotten more times than I could count.

I stepped forward and hugged him tightly, catching him off guard. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

But I couldn’t linger. My plan was set. Upstairs, I packed my meager belongings into a worn bag, pausing only to tie strips of fabric into a makeshift rope. I dropped the bag out of the window and climbed down, the rough material digging into my hands.

Freedom was just within reach.

As I neared the gate, a car pulled up, and I froze. Lyra and Lucian stepped out, their voices carrying through the night.

“Only God knows where that servant girl ran off to,” Lyra muttered, her tone dripping with disdain.

Lucian sighed. “Don’t worry. We’ll deal with it. My father can’t know I’m mated to her. If he finds out…” His voice trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

A sob rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down, refusing to let them hear me. My chest burned with anger and pain as I slipped through the gates and vanished into the night.

The hotel room I found was small and dingy, but it was a temporary refuge. After a restless night, I wandered the quiet streets to gather necessities.

That’s when I felt it. Someone was watching me.

I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest. By the time I reached the hotel, my hands were shaking. Then I saw it—a note hanging from the doorknob.

My fingers trembled as I unfolded the note, the hurried, uneven letters sending a chill straight to my bones: You can't hide forever.

My breath caught, the air in my chest turning heavy and cold. The note slipped from my grasp, fluttering to the floor as I pressed a hand to my chest. My mind raced. Who had sent this? Was it Lyra? Lucian? Or someone else entirely? Whoever it was, they knew where I was—and they wanted me afraid.

I swallowed hard, terror clawing at the edges of my resolve. My eyes darted around the dimly lit hallway, every shadow twisting into a potential threat. My breathing came in shallow gasps, but I forced myself to focus. Stay calm. Don’t lose control.

Gripping my key tightly, I shoved it into the lock with shaking hands. The door creaked open, and I slipped inside, quickly bolting it behind me. I leaned against the cold wood, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

They weren’t just threatening me. They were watching me. Letting me know they could reach me whenever they wanted.

My heart pounded painfully as the realization settled in. I can’t stay here. I have to leave—now.

I grabbed my bag and threw my few belongings inside, my movements rushed and frantic. Without a second thought, I slipped out into the night, my senses on high alert for any hint of danger.

The streets were eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the sound of my footsteps against the pavement. Then, I felt it—eyes on me.

I glanced over my shoulder, my breath hitching. Across the road, three shadowy figures in dark hoods followed me, their voices carrying faintly on the wind.

“She’s moving fast,” one murmured.

“We need to grab her before she gets away,” another hissed.

Panic surged through me, but I forced myself to keep walking, quickening my pace. My sharp ears caught the sound of their steps matching mine, closing the distance between us.

My heart thundered as I spotted a taxi parked a few paces ahead. I waved it down desperately, my pulse pounding in my ears.

The cab screeched to a stop, and I flung the door open, diving inside. “Drive. Now!” I gasped.

The driver hesitated for only a moment before the car sped off, leaving the shadowy figures behind, their frustrated shouts fading into the night.

As the city blurred past the window, I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. I’d escaped for now, but the truth was clear: they wouldn’t stop until they found me.

Two weeks later, I found myself in a quiet town, working as an attendant at a small café. The job was simple, but it offered a fleeting distraction from my fears.

One evening, as my shift ended, I pushed open the door to leave—only for it to slam into my face. I stumbled backward, landing hard on the floor.

“Are you crazy?” I snapped, rubbing my forehead as I looked up.

And then I froze.

Standing above me was a tall man with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight into my soul.

His gaze locked onto mine, and the world seemed to stop.

His lips parted, his voice deep and resonant. “Finally,” he murmured. “I’ve found you—the woman from my dreams.”