SERAPHINA’S POV
I woke to the muted hush of the ocean. The sound was steady, rhythmic, as though the entire island breathed in and out in sync with .
For a mont, I lay still on the wide, soft bed, the gauzy curtains swaying with the salt-tinged breeze that slipped in through the open balcony doors.
Beyond them, Musha Cay glowed with early sunlight, the horizon painted in coral and rose.
Daniel’s laughter from the night before lingered in my head, clear and bright like windchis.
The mory pulled upright, shoulders heavy with sleep yet ward by the thought of spending the day with my baby.
Dinner last night had been...awkward—Kieran’s parents trying too hard to make small talk, Kieran himself brooding behind polite restraint.
The only light—as usual—had been Daniel, chattering about surfing, about the villa, about how much better coconuts tasted here than anywhere else in the world.
If Daniel was happy, then I was happy. That mantra had carried through worse nights than last.
Still, the air in the dining room had been thick, and I had felt Kieran’s eyes on too many tis, a heat that pricked the skin at the nape of my neck.
I’d forced myself to focus on Daniel’s joy, telling myself that his smile mattered more than my discomfort.
I slipped from the bed, pulling a silk robe around , its fabric cool against my skin as I headed into the bathroom. After a shower, I braided my damp hair loosely over one shoulder and changed into pale blue linen shorts and a white loose blouse before stepping out into the hall.
The villa was extravagant in every corner—polished teak floors, whitewashed walls, orchids blooming in vases—but its beauty didn’t hide the coldness that lingered in its halls.
“Where’s Daniel?” I asked one of the Ogas, a young woman who carried a tray of fresh fruit past .
She smiled, bowing slightly. “At the beach with Alpha Kieran, Ma’am. They went out just after sunrise.”
Sothing inside flickered—equal parts relief and unease. Daniel was safe, yes, but with Kieran.
If I wanted to spend any ti with my son, I’d have to spend ti with his father, too.
Lovely.
I followed the winding path lined with hibiscus until the sand ward my feet. The morning light glittered across the sea, waves rolling in a hypnotic rhythm.
Then I saw them.
Daniel, standing unsteady but determined on a surfboard, Kieran steadying him with a firm hand on his back.
Daniel whooped with laughter as he wobbled, nearly falling before regaining his balance. Kieran laughed too, the sound startlingly warm, echoing across the water.
I froze at the edge of the palms, my breath caught. They looked...like a family.
I should have felt nothing but gladness, but envy twisted sharp in my chest. Not of Daniel’s joy—that was mine, too—but of the ease Kieran seed to find with him.
The ease he’d never had with .
Daniel spotted first. “Mom!” His voice cracked with excitent, his arm shooting up in a wave that nearly toppled him into the surf. “Co see! I’m showing Dad my surfing moves!”
Soone needed to co up with a different term for kids to refer to divorced parents. Hearing Daniel call us ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ as if we were one happy family scraped raw at .
Kieran turned then, his gaze eting mine across the water.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just his eyes, the mory of his mouth on mine on the yacht still seared into .
I tore my gaze away, forcing a smile as Daniel hopped off the board and splashed toward .
“You have to try,” he insisted, water streaming off him as he tugged my hand. “Co on, Mom, you’ll love it. I can teach you!”
I laughed, though my stomach fluttered with nerves. “You? Teach ?”
“Of course,” Daniel said proudly, puffing up his chest. “Dad says I’m a natural.”
Kieran’s voice carried over the waves. “He’s not wrong.”
I ignored the way my skin prickled at his carefree tone and allowed Daniel to drag into the surf.
The water surged cool around my ankles, then my knees.
I bit back my fear of water, trying to focus on the wet sand beneath my toes, the sound of Daniel’s voice, and Kieran’s presence—however uncomfortable—behind .
Anything other than the vast body of water that stretched endlessly before .
Daniel pushed a smaller board toward , one clearly sized for beginners.
“Okay, Mom,” he said, earnest as a little soldier, “you have to lie down first. Like this.” He demonstrated with exaggerated seriousness, then popped back up. “And when the wave cos, you push up with your arms and stand. Easy.”
“Easy,” I echoed, though I doubted it.
Daniel bead and glanced back at Kieran. “See? She’ll get it. She always does. Mom’s the best at everything she does.”
Sothing in my chest softened at his faith in , even as heat coiled low when I caught Kieran watching.
His expression was unreadable, but I felt it—his attention, his awareness of in the water.
I tried, failing spectacularly the first ti, the board tipping sideways and dunking into the surf.
Daniel’s laughter rang out. “You’re supposed to stay on top, Mom!”
“I gathered that,” I sputtered, pushing my wet hair out of my face with a nervous laugh. I was fine; I couldn’t drown in such shallow water.
I was fine. I was fine. I was fine.
Kieran’s voice ca closer now, calm and instructive. “Shift your weight to the center. Don’t fight the wave—ride with it.”
I didn’t look at him, but I listened.
Little by little, I improved. My arms ached, my legs trembled, but I was determined to get this right—if not for anything, then for Daniel.
And when I finally caught a wave and managed to rise halfway before tumbling, Daniel cheered as though I’d won a dal.
“You did it!” he shouted, clapping. “See, Mom? You’re amazing!”
And for a fleeting mont, I believed him.
But the ocean evidently did not share the sa sentint.
I didn’t see the larger wave coming until it reared up, shadowing the water around . Panic flickered, but I tried to follow Daniel’s instructions, pushing up onto the board.
The force of it hit harder than I expected, slamming into , knocking the breath from my chest. The world turned into white spray and salt.
“Sera!”
“Mom!”
I surfaced once, gasped, then the next surge dragged under. My lungs burned, limbs thrashing against the pull.
A familiar terror stole over in the spinning blue—an old mory of pain, of surrender.
‘Not again! Not again!’
Then hands gripped , strong and unyielding—nothing like the cruel hands that had once shoved under.
I clung to them like life rafts.
I thought I heard Daniel shouting, but everything was muffled, distant. My chest ached. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision, muted my hearing.
“Sera!” Kieran’s voice was raw with urgency. “Stay with —Sera, open your eyes!”
I couldn’t.
The world tilted again, and then sand pressed beneath . Large, warm hands cradled my face, water dripping onto my skin.
“Mom?” Daniel’s voice broke, panicked. I felt his little hand on my arm. “Dad, do sothing! She’s not breathing—give her mouth-to-mouth!”
His plea sliced through , even in the haze.
I wanted to open my eyes, to tell him not to be afraid. But all I could do was drift while Kieran cursed under his breath.
For one suspended mont, I felt the ghost of his breath near mine, the charged hesitation of his lips hovering just above.
Daniel’s voice trembled again. “Please, Dad! Save her!”
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