SERAPHINA’S POV
We had an inkling, but now I knew for sure.
Catherine was the big bad—the powerful psychic pulling the strings of all the marionettes on our board.
If her invitation regarding my father was genuine, then it was safe to say she was most likely responsible for what had happened to Aaron.
Thank the gods I’d come prepared.
Before leaving the packhouse that morning, I had made a small adjustment to Daniel’s gift.
The modification had taken less than ten minutes and required nothing more complicated than a thin conductive filament and a bit of improvised wiring tucked carefully beneath the inner casing.
It was simple. Crude, even.
But it served a purpose.
When my pulse dropped past a certain threshold—symptomatic of being under psychic influence—the contact would complete a tiny circuit and produce a mild shock.
Strong enough to disrupt the influence.
A tether back to reality.
And at that moment, it had done exactly what I had intended.
