Page 113 of The Moonborn's Curse

"It's all my fault," he whispered. "It's all on me."

Veyr stood over Hagan, chest heaving, blood running down his jawline and soaking into his shirt.

His knuckles were raw. His breathing was uneven.

And then, without a word, he turned his head and spat—a thick gob of blood hitting the floor beside Hagan with a wet smack.

Final.

Disgusted.

Done.

He didn't say anything else.

Didn't need to.

He turned and walked away, shoulders tense, leaving Hagan broken in body and spirit—on the floor with nothing but silence, judgment, and the weight of everything he'd thrown away.

Chapter 43

Seren

Seren lay curled up on her side in the Oracle's loft like a ghost—her body present, her soul somewhere unreachable.

She didn't move.

Didn't sleep.

Didn't eat.

The days passed in a grey blur, light bleeding in through the slats and fading again with nothing in between. The Oracle tried, gently, with tea, with stories, even with a brush to her hair. But Seren didn't speak.

"I could only carry the messages of the Three Sisters," the Oracle said once, voice breaking. "I wasn't allowed to interfere. You must believe me."

Seren said nothing.

Even Veyr came, sitting beside her in silence. When he offered water, she drank a little. But nothing else passed her lips. Not food. Not words. Not glances.

Her phone rang—her mother, Talis, even Astrid once.

She didn't answer.

She felt like she was drifting from her body, weightless, untethered.

The bond in her chest—once a glowing thread, once the promise of something—now felt like a jagged wire. Raw. Splintered. Bleeding. Newly bonded never went this long without even a simple touch.

On the first night, Draken came.

He stood awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, guilt heavy on his face. "Seren," he called softly. "Please. I owe you more than I can ever repay. Just give me a moment. Just let me explain."

She didn't answer.

She lay curled beneath the quilt, unmoving.

Draken stayed a while longer, then turned and left—his footsteps heavy with shame.

On the second night, Hagan came.

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