SERAPHINA’S POV
The alliance eting started three hours after Marcus’ interview.
Three hours of chaos.
Three hours of headlines mutating faster than anyone could contain them.
Three hours of watching the world decide what I was before I’d even spoken.
By the ti I entered Nightfang’s council chamber, the tension hung so heavy in the air it pressed against my chest, dense enough to choke on.
Nobody rose when I walked in.
Not because of disrespect.
Because every Alpha in the room was too distracted staring at the screens mounted along the far wall.
The words ’Silver Wolf’ crawled endlessly across the bottoms of screens.
News anchors droned on, faces tense with urgency and what looked like excitent.
Territory broadcasts commanded attention, each flashing banners and warnings.
Human comntators discussed ancient werewolf myths as if they were suddenly geopolitical threats.
So looked fascinated.
So terrified.
So...hungry.
That last one unsettled most.
Kieran pulled out the chair beside him as I approached. His hand brushed against my lower back as I sat, grounding for half a second before the noise swallowed the room again.
“They’re digging through historical records,” Ethan muttered from across the table. “Half the internet thinks silver wolves are divine protectors. The other half thinks Sera’s going to start eating civilians under the full moon.”
“Naïve of them to think I need the moon to be full,” I said dryly.
A few strained laughs escaped around the room.
Not many. Nobody here was relaxed enough for humor to land properly.
Corin leaned back in his chair near the far end of the table, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he watched another broadcast.
“They’re afraid of uncertainty,” he said calmly. “Rogues can be explained. Understood. But the unknown? The mythical? People will always fear the bogeyman more than the man standing in plain sight with a gun.”
That hit too close to the truth.
Marcus had stripped down my identity. I was no longer Seraphina.
I was the silver wolf now, an ancient, mythical predator.
And people flinched from legends more easily than from any blade or bullet.
Alpha Idris exhaled sharply. “We need to counter this imdiately.”
“With what?” Alpha Callister asked. “Statents?”
“We release more evidence against Marcus.”
“We already did.”
“Not enough.”
“You think a bunch of docunts and pictures are going to distract the public from mass hysteria?”
The eting spiraled quickly after that.
Argunts overlapped.
Suggestions collided.
Soone proposed releasing footage from the rogue attacks.
Another suggested publicly displaying captured wolfsbane shipnts.
Alpha Mirek wanted Aaron to be brought before the caras imdiately.
That one made the room hesitate.
Aaron, the living proof. A victim of Catherine’s experints standing alive inside Nightfang territory.
Mirek folded his arms. “His testimony would devastate Marcus publicly.”
“Assuming the public believes him,” Alpha Helen countered sharply.
“Sera managed to convince us,” Callister said. “She could convince the public, too.”
At that, silence settled more heavily across the room.
Because everyone knew what that implied.
It wasn’t just about showing the world exactly what Catherine and Marcus had done; it involved stepping forward and embracing the narrative Marcus had put forward.
That I was different, that I had inexplicable powers. That I could go inside soone’s mind and pull out their deepest, darkest horrors.
On the one hand, it could help our cause. On the other hand, it could just as easily cent my new identity as a monster.
Kieran’s jaw tightened beside .
“We don’t parade victims around like political props,” he said coldly. “And we definitely won’t be parading Sera’s powers like she’s a monkey in a circus.”
“I’m not suggesting exploitation,” Callister argued. “I’m just saying—”
“Aaron barely survived what they did to him,” Kieran cut him off. “He’s off limits, and that’s final.”
Nobody spoke after that. Despite the tension, no one wanted to openly challenge Kieran when he sounded like that.
Still, the idea lingered in the room.
Because strategically, it made sense.
Expose the horrors publicly.
Force outrage.
Destroy Marcus’s credibility.
Simple and clean.
But dangerous.
“Kieran is right,” I said quietly, my fingers curling against the table. “If we parade Aaron around, we’ll be falling into Marcus’ trap.”
I pushed forward before anyone could interrupt.
“Yes, the experints would horrify people,” I said. “Most would condemn them publicly. Governnts would investigate. Territories would denounce them. Human authorities would panic.”
I looked around the room carefully.
“But not everyone.”
Several expressions shifted, and suddenly the silence felt much colder.
“There are powerful people,” I continued softly, “who would hear about soul reconstruction, enhanced resurrection thods, psychic conditioning and experintation and imdiately start wondering how to use it themselves.”
The room remained deathly still, like everyone had forgotten how to breathe.
Because they all knew I was right.
I thought of the auctions at the inn.
Of corrupt Alphas like Marcus.
Of wealthy humans buying supernatural artifacts through private channels.
Of people who always believed rules existed for everyone except them.
“Marcus and Catherine have stayed hidden this long because they understand greed,” I said. “If we expose everything all at once, we don’t just create outrage. We create interest.”
A grim expression crossed Helen’s face.
“Black market buyers,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“Military interest, too,” Idris added darkly.
Corin nodded. “Private research sectors. Political factions. Human governnts trying to weaponize immortality before soone else does.”
The words settled heavily into the room.
Once spoken aloud, the implications beca impossible to ignore.
Kieran’s hand tightened around mine beneath the table.
“We’d be giving their operation a platform,” I said.
Callister leaned back slowly, tension carved deep into his expression now.
“So what?” he asked. “We just...do nothing?”
“No,” I replied. “We figure out a way to tell the truth carefully.”
Ethan dragged a hand down his face. “That’s going to be hard when half the world thinks you’re an ancient murder goddess.”
“Only half?” I muttered.
That finally earned a real laugh from him.
Then the screens shifted again.
A broadcaster appeared discussing ancient silver wolf records recovered from old territory archives.
Behind her flashed painted depictions of silver wolves from different centuries.
So looked regal.
So monstrous.
One image showed a silver wolf standing atop what appeared to be a battlefield littered with bodies, blood dripping from its fangs.
The caption beneath it read: SILVER WOLF OR CALAMITY WOLF?
I stared at it too long, my breath caught painfully at the base of my throat.
Kieran’s thumb brushed once across my knuckles, dragging my attention to him.
“Don’t,” he said quietly. “That is not you.”
I exhaled slowly. “I know.”
But it still left a chill coiling in my gut, sharp and inescapable.
Marcus had not created the fear from nothing.
History had already done part of the work for him.
Not every silver wolf had been rembered kindly.
So indeed had been aggressive and volatile, the magnitude of their power too much to control.
I’d been lucky to find such a strong support system to help through the transition. Without Corin, Alois, Kieran, Christian, and even Lucian, I could just as easily have gone mad.
Lacy suddenly rushed into the room so quickly she nearly collided with the doorfra.
Everyone turned instantly.
The young tech looked pale, and...not frightened, exactly. Stunned.
“Apologies,” she stuttered, breathless. “It’s just—you guys need to see this.”
Ethan frowned. “See what?”
Without answering, Lacy crossed to the nearest console and started typing rapidly.
Every screen in the room flickered. Then changed.
At first, all I saw was darkness. Static.
Distorted cara movent.
A shaky handheld recording.
Then the image stabilized—
And my eyes flared wide.
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