No Longer Your Spare Part: The Luna's Revenge

Seraphina POV:

The Cooler. A silver-plated coffin.

The guards threw me in. I landed hard on my injured shoulder. The silver floor burned on contact, sucking the heat straight out of my marrow.

The door slammed. Darkness.

"Dante, please! Check the cameras!"

Silence.

I curled into a ball, trying to minimize contact with the floor. My wolf whimpered, a creature of light trapped in a tomb.

Hold on, I told her.

Time dissolved. Hours? Days?

Hallucinations started.

I saw the cabin. Dante, thrashing, veins black with poison.

“Who are you?” he had growled.

“I'm safe,” I had whispered.

I remembered wrapping my body around his, using my heat to stabilize him.

“Vanilla,” he had murmured. “Moonlight. When I see again, I will find you. You are mine.”

I laughed in the dark cell. A dry, cracking sound.

He kept his promise. He found me. And he froze me.

The cold numbed my extremities.

And then, something broke.

Not a bone. The bond.

It didn't snap with a bang. It just... withered. The constant pull towards him, the desperate need for his validation—it crystallized in the cold and shattered.

I didn't hate him. Hate requires energy. I felt nothing.

Hollow.

And in that hollow space, she woke up.

My White Wolf uncurled. Ancient. Cold. Starlit.

We survive, she whispered. Not for him. For us.

I stopped shivering. I sat up straight in the darkness.

I wasn't waiting for a savior anymore. I was waiting for an opening.