Seraphina let out a dry laugh, bitter and hollow. "And you made yours. You chose them over me."
"I chose what was right," Alaric replied, his tone carrying a hint of softness. "What you asked of me was impossible."
"Impossible?" Her voice rose slightly, her green eyes flashing. "Or inconvenient?"
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "You don't understand."
"Oh, I do," she interrupted, stepping closer. The scent of her magic filled the air, sweet yet scorching like burning sugar. "I understand more than you think, Alaric. I know what loyalty means to you werewolves. But I know what it means to sacrifice everything for your people."
He met her gaze, unflinching. "Then you also know what it feels like to lose yourself in the process."
That made her falter.
Her shoulders slumped slightly as the anger bled out of her, replaced by something more fragile... Regret. She looked away, her voice low. "Maybe I do."
