Seraphine’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
She’d told herself it was just a quick scroll through his phone. No big deal. But the longer she stared at the screen, the tighter her chest got, like soone was squeezing the air right out of her lungs.
She knew Voren’s whole world revolved around Marigold. His pack, his empire, every decision—it all ca back to that little girl. So yeah, she’d expected his cara roll to be packed with Marigold’s milestones: birthdays, first steps, silly faces, all that cute dad stuff.
But that’s not what she found.
It was her.
The wallpaper alone nearly knocked the wind out of her. An old birthday photo, colors slightly faded. A much younger Seraphine, caught mid-laugh with her hair flying everywhere, eyes squeezed shut like that exact mont was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
She couldn’t even rember which birthday it was. Six? Seven? No clue.
And that’s when it really hit her.
There was a massive hole where those mories should’ve been.
She sat there, ntally poking at the empty space like you’d press on a bruise, but nothing ca back. She’d always had this vague, uneasy feeling that her childhood sucked.
Nothing specific, just a low hum in the background. She rembered little scraps, like sitting on the bathroom floor untangling her own curls because no one else was around, or blow-drying her hair in the mirror when she was so small she could barely reach the counter. Those monts stuck.
But her parents? Almost completely gone. Daisy’s face from back then? Mostly wiped too.
She rembered donating blood for Daisy over and over the pinch of the needle, squeezing her eyes shut, counting to ten. That part was clear.
Everything else around it? Blurry. Like soone had taken a wet rag and sared it across the first half of her life.
She’d convinced herself that was normal. That everyone had mory gaps. That it wasn’t a big deal but staring at Voren’s phone, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
She kept scrolling.
Dozens of photos. Then hundreds. When she hit the videos, sothing deep in her chest cracked wide open, and she pressed play.
Her own voice, young, bright, totally carefree, filled the room.
"Voren, bring a moon pendant from the city. And a bracelet to match it."
There she was, wild brunette curls bouncing everywhere, riding on Voren’s back like he was her personal horse.
He had her legs hooked over his arms, grinning this huge, open smile she’d never seen on his face in the present. He carried her so naturally, like he’d done it a thousand tis before. Like she belonged there.
Voren’s voice ca through next, younger, lighter, nothing like the guarded tone he used now.
"I’ll buy you anything, darling. Just wait for ."
Darling.
He’d called her Darling.
Seraphine replayed it. Then played it again.
In the video, Voren looked like a teenager, sixteen or seventeen, hair longer and shaggy, falling past his ears. She tilted her head.
He looked a lot like Ravyn. Sa jaw, sa hair, sa energy. If she hadn’t heard her younger self say his na, she would’ve sworn it was Ravyn.
She kept going.
Another video started automatically.
"Voren...no, V sounds better," her younger self said, voice dropping into sothing half-shy, half-serious. "When we grow up... shall we be mates?"
Seraphine stopped breathing.
On screen, Voren threw his head back and laughed, real, full, happy laughter.
"The mate bond doesn’t exist anymore," he said, still grinning. "But I love you, Sera. Let’s grow up first, and then we’ll see how the Moon Goddess blesses us."
Little Seraphine lost it. She jumped up, bouncing in place, arms flailing.
"Voren and Sera! Nobody else!"
He caught her mid-bounce, his face going soft.
"Yes, darling. Nobody else."
Then he flipped her upside down. Her younger laughter, high, wild, and completely free, rang out through the woods as her curls brushed the grass. She was screaming with joy, trusting him completely not to drop her.
Seraphine’s throat closed up tight.
She had to set the phone face-down on her lap. She pressed her fingers hard against her eyes, barely holding it together.
That little girl in the video had zero walls. She trusted Voren with everything, the kind of bone-deep trust that cos from years of tiny monts building into sothing solid. That had been her.
There was another one where she crouched beside a lake with a jar filled with water. "V, I picked up two golden fishes. Let’s call them V, and Sera," she giggled, Voren smiled beside her. "Alright, keep our golden fishes safe till I co back, will you?"
"Yes, this is us," Seraphine agreed, holding the jar tightly to her chest.
And she couldn’t rember any of it. Now, she began to wonder where that golden fish jar was.
She picked the phone back up because stopping hurt worse than continuing. More photos. More videos. Each one warr than the last, twisting sothing uncomfortable in her chest, warmth and confusion all knotted up together.
Every ti she tried to force a real mory to surface, her head pushed back. A dull ache started building behind her eyes.
She’d spent years feeling vaguely uneasy around Voren and never understood why. She’d blad it on him being cold and closed off. Told herself it was his fault.
But it wasn’t just him, was it?
She set the phone on the bed and spoke before she could stop herself.
"Voren."
Not loud. Just his na, like her voice already knew he was close.
The door swung open almost imdiately. He stepped in and leaned against the fra, arms loosely crossed, watching her. His face was calm, carefully blank.
"Do you rember now?"
She shook her head slowly. "I don’t." Her voice ca out smaller than she wanted. "Voren, what the hell is going on? Why don’t I rember any of this?"
Sothing moved in his expression. His brows pulled together slightly as he actually thought about it, working through the sa confusion she was feeling.
Whatever he’d expected, maybe that showing her the phone would magically unlock everything, it clearly hadn’t worked like he planned.
He straightened up.
"Let call my parents at the pack." His voice was quieter now, more careful. "If this is beyond science, then our shaman would be the best person to give us answers.
User Comments
0 comments from readers