The sun had set, and night had fallen. In his office, one of the Omega maids rushed to Zyrain to inform him of Rina's arrival. He hurried downstairs and waited at the entrance, adopting a feigned sad expression, reminiscent of a lost puppy. As Rina stepped out of the carriage, she was met by Zyrain's handsome face. His full lips and high cheekbones gave him an almost ethereal beauty that rivaled that of a woman. His pale, smooth skin was unmarred by blemishes, lending him an otherworldly elegance that blurred the lines between masculinity and femininity, making him stunningly beautiful. This captivating appearance made her feel weak and guilty for having left him so abruptly earlier that day.
Zyrain approached Seraphina, his brow furrowed and his eyes glistening with a mix of hurt and frustration. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her, enveloping her in a warm yet possessive embrace. "Don't you care about my feelings?" he asked, his voice trembling just slightly, a pout forming on his lips that made him look almost childlike in his 'vulnerability'.
Seraphina, still burning with jealousy over the incident she had witnessed, recalled how he had protected his sister's so intimately in front of her. "You sided with her right in front of me. How do you think that made me feel?" she retorted, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt, her chest tightening with a rush of emotions. Zyrain's expression shifted, his brow lifting as he took a moment to process her words.
"You know she's just my sister; you should already be aware of that, Rina," he sighed, 'frustration' settling into his tone like a weight. "Honestly, how can you be so jealous of my sister? I know you're capable of better than this." His words hung heavy in the air, and she felt the sting of his disappointment. As she listened to him, memories of her recent behavior flooded her mind. She couldn't deny that her reactions had been exaggerated, tainted by jealousy and fear. For a moment, doubt crept in—had she been too harsh? Was she losing herself in this whirlwind of emotions?
Just as she was about to articulate her feelings, Zyrain interrupted, his eyes searching hers with a mix of urgency and concern. "Please, just come home and stop being angry with me, okay?" His voice softened, and he gently tugged at her hands, guiding her toward their bedroom with a determined yet tender gesture. Once inside, Zyrain took a step closer, invading her personal space as he began to remove her clothes. "What can you possibly do without me?" he teased, his voice laced with 'playful sarcasm'. "Look at me, taking off your clothes for you—something so simple, and yet you can't seem to manage it yourself. Are you happy now?" He smiled, but the glimmer in his eyes hinted at an underlying tension, as if he reveled in this moment of control.
They settled on the bed and Zyrain lifted a forkful of food to her lips, a slight smirk playing on his face as he said, "There, there. Just eat this. Look at how skinny you are! You haven't been yourself these past few days, and it worries me." His words were laced with a mix of care and authority that made her stomach twist. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken dominance as Zyrain's tone grew more serious. "Now be the obedient wife I used to cherish. You're not acting like the girl I fell in love with," he declared firmly, his voice echoing with unmistakable finality.
As she sat on the edge of her bed, a deep yawn escaped her lips, signaling the encroaching embrace of sleep that wrapped around her like a soft blanket. Across the room, Zyrain wore a triumphant smile, his eyes sparkling with wickedness as he clutched a bowl laden with food in his hands. She barely registered the peculiar sensation washing over her—how just a few spoonfuls of that meal could evoke a wave of drowsiness so powerful.
Her eyelids grew heavy, each blink growing slower as the fatigue washed over her like a gentle tide. All thoughts of Zyrain and his cheeky grin faded from her mind. Finally succumbing to the pull of slumber, she instinctively slipped beneath the covers, the soft sheets enveloping her like a cocoon. With a content sigh, she closed her eyes, surrendering completely to the comforting darkness that beckoned her deeper into dreams.
As Seraphina stirred from her slumber, a murmur of voices floated through the hallway, drawing her attention. She recognized the distinct tones of the omega maids, brimming with disdain and gossip.
"Can you believe she was here just four months ago? It feels like an eternity," one of them scoffed, her voice dripping with annoyance. "Now, with only four weeks left until her anniversary ball, she'll finally be going back to her pack. Goodness, these last four weeks feel endless... How can anyone stand her? She's simply insufferable!"
"Oh, gosh, not again," Seraphina thought, a familiar wave of nausea rising in her throat. "Their words are like tiny, poisoned darts, each one chipping away at my already fragile peace. Why do they hate me so? I haven't even done anything to them."
The maids continued down the corridor, their voices fading into more distant echoes, yet the sting of their comments lingered in the air. Feeling a disquieting sense of emptiness, Seraphina struggled to grasp a fleeting memory that danced just out of reach. It was as though a veil had been drawn over her recollections, leaving her with only fragments. The last clear image she held was of Zyrain, his gentle hands offering her food in the dim, warm glow of their shared space late one night. From that moment onward, everything was blurred, foggy, and elusive. A pressing urge welled within her – a longing to reclaim what had been lost. But each time she tried to concentrate on the missing pieces, vertigo swept over her, a wave of nausea swirling in her stomach, forcing her to abandon the effort.
"Honestly, she's lucky to even be here," another maid's voice chimed in. "Imagine being kept around for months, a constant reminder of… *him*."
"Him?" Seraphina wondered, her mind racing to fill the gaps in her memory. "Who are they talking about? Is it Zyrain? But why are they whispering about him now?"
"I heard whispers," a third maid added, her voice hushed, conspiratorial. "Something within her pack. Apparently, her father…" she trailed off, a nervous glance over her shoulder.
"My father?" Seraphina's heart hammered against her ribs. "What about my father?" The fragmented memories began to coalesce, forming a terrifyingly incomplete picture. She felt a cold dread creep into her heart, a premonition of something terrible, something she couldn't quite grasp. The maids' gossip, though hateful, provided a chilling hint of the darkness that threatened to engulf her.
"Sapphire, are you there? Speak to me!" Seraphina urgently called, searching for her wolf within her mind. "Sapphire! Where are you?" "Seraphina's heart raced as she desperately tried to reach her wolf. Within the depths of her mind, she called out again, her voice echoing in the vastness of her imagination. "Sapphire, please respond. I need you. Where have you gone?" She felt a sense of urgency, a pull to find her wolf, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that was now taut with tension. The silence that followed only added to her worry. With each passing moment, her concern grew, and her mind began to wander to darker places. "Could something have happened to her? Is she hurt or worse?" These thoughts plagued her, but she pushed them aside, determined to find her companion.
Seraphina closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and focusing her thoughts. She tried to sense Sapphire's presence, their bond that usually felt so strong and comforting. But all she felt was an unsettling emptiness. It was as if Sapphire had vanished without a trace, leaving her alone in this vast mental landscape. "Sapphire, if you can hear me, please give me a sign. I'm starting to worry," she pleaded, her voice carrying a mixture of concern and desperation.
"I'm here, Fifi," Sapphire said, stifling a yawn as she turned slightly in her cozy makeshift bed made of darkness. "Could you please let a girl get some sleep? You're ruining my beauty rest." She rubbed her eyes with her paw, feeling the heaviness of fatigue pulling her down. "I'm so tired and just want a moment without distractions." Her words hung in the air, laced with a hint of annoyance as she glanced at Seraphina, hoping for some peace.
Seraphina, momentarily lost in thought by the maid's comment, failed to notice the heavy droop in Sapphire's eyes and the weariness in her posture. The soft fur of her wolf shimmered faintly in the light, but the usual spark was lacking.
"Did you overhear what the maids said about Papa?" Seraphina asked, her voice filled with curiosity as she glanced at Sapphire. Sapphire turned her tired gaze towards Seraphina, letting out a long yawn that seemed to echo the exhaustion they both felt. "I didn't catch it. What did they say?" she replied, her voice thick with sleepiness.
As the heavy wooden door creaked open, the sound echoed through the room, startling Seraphina and interrupting her conversation with Sapphire. Zryain strode in confidently, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Good morning, sunshine," he said warmly, a playful glint in his eye as he made his way toward her.
His breathtaking smile radiated charm and confidence, captivating Seraphina as if he were weaving an enchanting spell around her. For a moment, she found herself lost in the depths of his gaze, the world around her fading into the background. "Get ready; we have a busy day ahead of us," he continued, breaking her reverie. "This afternoon, the Alpha and Luna of the Black Blood Wolf pack, along with their three sons, will be arriving at the estate. It's important that you present your best self to them." He leaned in slightly, his tone turning more serious. "Show them just how joyful you've been over these past few months. They are keen observers, and every detail counts."
As he gazes deeply into her eyes, she finds herself momentarily entranced by their captivating midnight purple hue, shimmering with an almost hypnotic quality. It feels as though those striking eyes possess an unspoken command, urging her to submit to their allure. In response, she nonchalantly nods her head, a gesture that betrays a surprising familiarity, as if she has long been conditioned to respond to such silent directives. The world around them fades away, leaving only the powerful connection that seems to pulsate between them.