SERAPHINA’S POV
I froze in the doorway, hands raised instinctively, pulse thundering in my ears.
Layered beneath the smell of antiseptic and healing salves was the unmistakable tang of copper. My stomach churned.
“I said get the fuck out, Ethan!” Maya’s voice cracked on the last word, raw and furious and wounded all at once.
That’s when I found my voice. “Maya, it’s me.”
Silence.
Then a sharp, disbelieving inhale.
“Sera?”
I stepped further into the room. Her eyes—wild and red-rimmed—snapped to my face. Immediately, the anger drained out of her expression, replaced by horror.
“Oh gods—” She lurched forward, wincing as the movement pulled at her injury. “I thought you were Ethan. I didn’t mean to—are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, crossing the room in two strides.
Her shoulders sagged in visible relief. “I’m so sorry.”
I stopped short in front of her bed.
“No,” I said hoarsely. “You don’t get to apologize. That’s on me.”
Her brows knit together. “Sera—”
