Page 37 of Luna's Forgotten Vow

I leave her hand hanging too long, staring at it. The tie around my neck feels too tight and the suit on my skin chafes uncomfortably.

What in the cluster-fuck of all fucks is this?

Tova's fingers squeeze my arm. "You're staring," she whispers and I try not to flinch, try not to let it show.

I take Seraphina's hand and if she feels the steady hum of electricity that runs from the tip of her fingers and burrows underneath my skin, she doesn't show. And what should have been a firm handshake turns into my lips grazing her knuckles, kissing the top of her diamond ring as I hold that studious, preternaturally violet gaze.

Her brows arch in mild surprise and I marvel at how well she has learned to school her expressions, her perfect poise of elegance and grace, her focused observation that is nearly clinical.

No. That is hardly the Seraphina I know.

I wonder what else she's learned. To lie? To deceive? How does one go from being a fucking nobody to High Luna? Did she fuck Soren to attain this position by bearing his child?

My eyes droop to the child and I freeze. The curls flat on his round head are unmistakably blonde. It could be a coloring that leaves as the child progresses in age, but his eyebrows and lashes are blonde too.

Neither Seraphina nor Soren are blonde.

I think back to the last nine months. Seraphina's been missing for seven months. The only way she has a child is if she was pregnant before she went missing or had the boy prematurely.

If the latter is the case then...It couldn't be.

The boy can't be mine. She would have told me. She would have...Would she though? After I rejected her and locked her up like some wild animal? Would she have told me that she was pregnant with my child after what I did?

The longer I stare at the boy, the more I see it. My lips. My jaw. My brows. My hair. If I hadn't known what I looked like as a child, I might have missed it.

My world tilts harshly and I have no idea how my legs still carry me.

"If you did end up hurting me, I wouldn't cry. I would hurt you right back," Seraphina had told me once, her head resting against my chest as she drew circles around my heart.

How could I have missed any of this? That Seraphina's revenge, her retaliation would be getting married to my one rival, and giving both herself and our baby another man's last name?

CHAPTER 13

SERAPHINA

Istumble against the wall, dizzy and disoriented. The hallway doubles, the walls triple and I lean back out of fear that I might crash into a guest and make a scene.

It's come back—the insane migraines, and it feels as though my head is being split in two with a sledgehammer. And it started the momenthetouched me.

It felt like being struck by lightning in a thunderstorm. A thousand sensations, none of which felt good. And even long after he left with his wife, I could feel the brand of his hands on mine and the heat of his gaze tracking my every movement.

I barely remember handing Landon to Lilia, who had been all too happy to take him, or excusing myself from the gathering or walking this far without falling.

I force my feet in front of me until I reach Soren's private terrace and my knees give out, slamming into the marble. My hands clutch my head, pulling at the curls as I moan in pain. "Gods...make it stop," I cry.

Goosebumps raid my skin as a feverish cold engulfs me in its wicked embrace. Another whimper escapes me as images flash in the back of my mind.

The soft press of lips on my hipbone. Scratchy laughter between my breasts. "Goddess, Fina. You wicked woman." The man in the blurred images tells me when my fingers grip his throat, forcing him to stay in place while I move on him, against him?—

My mind splinters into several bits and my cry becomes ragged sobs. My fingers clutch at my aching heart, nails digging into the fabric of my dress and tearing into it.

I hiccup—sob harder, even if I can't remember why.

The door to the terrace shuts softly behind me and I don't need to move to know it is Soren. Soft footfalls shuffle before I see his one knee on the floor in front of me.

"I'm fine," I manage to choke out. "I just need a minute."

He reaches for me, pushing back the curtain of my hair, but my blurred gaze remains on the ground because I don't want him seeing me this way. So heartbroken, confused and weary.

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