POV: Sera
The water was a liar.
It looked so peaceful. Dark, gentle waves lapped against the mossy wooden legs of the dock, making soft slap-slap sounds. The moon, already fat and bright on Moonfall Eve, painted a silver road across its surface. To anyone else, it was a beautiful night.
To Sera Blackwater, it was a trap. The water was hiding a secret, and it whispered that secret to her every single day.
She stood at the very end of the dock, her bare feet numb against the cold, wet planks. She wasn't here to enjoy the view. She was here because, one year ago, her twin sister Lila had taken her last breath in this water. The officials called it an accident. A tragic drowning.
Sera knew better. Lila was a Tidecaller, like her. They could command the waves. They could breathe underwater. A Tidecaller drowning in a calm harbor was like a bird falling from the sky for no reason. It was impossible.
The water's whispers weren't in words. They were in feelings that washed against her magic: a sudden spike of fear, a flash of cold green light, a feeling of being trapped. It was a broken record of Lila's final moments, playing over and over, and only Sera could hear it.
"Stop," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I know. I know he did it."
The water went quiet, as if sorry.
She knew who "he" was. Garrett Stormridge. Her mate.
The word tasted like rust in her mouth. Three years ago, the mate bond had snapped into place between them at a boring marine research conference. She'd been so hopeful. Lonely after her parents died, busy raising Lila, she'd thought the Moon Goddess had finally given her something good. Garrett was charming, successful, handsome.
It was all a lie. Slowly, like poison seeping into clean water, he'd changed. He criticized her work. He told her she was too emotional, too suspicious. He made her drop her friends. He said her grief for Lila was "unbecoming." The bond that was supposed to be a gift felt like a chain, getting heavier every day, pulling her toward him even as her soul screamed to run away.
And he had killed Lila. Sera felt it in the marrow of her bones. Lila had discovered something about Garrett's work, something "deeply wrong," and was going to tell Sera everything. Then she was found dead.
But in the world of werewolves, the mate bond was sacred. It was supposed to make you protect your mate's family, not harm them. Because of the bond, everyone believed Garrett was incapable of hurting Lila. Sera's gut feeling, her sister's secret investigation, the water's whispers—none of it counted as proof.
A burst of laughter made her jump. Down the shore, a family was hanging silver lanterns shaped like crescent moons. The whole village of Blackwater Cove was buzzing with Moonfall excitement. It was the biggest holiday of the year a month-long celebration of the longest night, full of feasts, ceremonies, and hope. The air smelled of spiced cider and roasting fish.
Sera hated it. Lila had loved Moonfall. She'd believed in the magic, in the Moon Goddess's blessings, in the hope of new beginnings. Her joy had been so bright it used to light up Sera's darker moods. Now, the festival was just a cruel reminder. It screamed of Lila's absence and the Goddess's silence.
Sera rubbed the small tattoo on her wrist: two tiny moons, linked together. She and Lila had gotten them when they turned eighteen. Two halves of one soul, Lila had said.
A deep, aching loneliness swallowed her. It was so heavy she could barely breathe. What was she doing? Standing on a dock, talking to water, while the world celebrated around her? She was trapped. Trapped by a bond to a killer. Trapped by a system that wouldn't listen. Trapped in a life that wasn't hers anymore.
The cottage door behind her crashed open.
Sera's whole body went rigid. She didn't need to turn around. She could feel him through the bond a cold, hard pressure in her chest.
"Sera."
Garrett's voice was like a shard of ice. It wasn't loud, but it cut through the distant festival sounds and the lap of the water.
Slowly, she turned. He filled the doorway of their small cottage, backlit by the warm lamplight inside. He was already dressed in a formal, black suit, his blond hair perfectly combed. From a distance, he looked like a prince from a storybook.
But Sera could see his eyes. Even from twenty feet away, they weren't the warm gold of a happy wolf. They were flat. Cold. Calculating.
"Get inside," he said. It wasn't a request. "Now."
A shiver that had nothing to do with the ocean wind raced down Sera's spine. This was the Garrett he hid from the world. The one behind the charming smile. The one who made the mate bond feel like a cage.
She forced her feet to move, the old wood of the dock creaking under her. Every step toward him felt like a betrayal of Lila, of herself. As she passed him in the doorway, he didn't move to let her by. She had to squeeze past, and he caught her arm, his fingers digging in just enough to hurt.
"We have to talk," he said, his mouth close to her ear. His breath smelled of mint, but it felt poisonous. "And you're not going to like it."
He finally released her, stepping back and closing the door with a soft, final click. The sound sealed her in. The cozy cottage, the place that was supposed to be her sanctuary, felt like the smallest room in a very large prison.
Garrett walked to the fireplace, his back to her. He picked up a small, carved seashell from the mantel Lila's favorite. He turned it over in his hands, not seeing it.
"The royal Binding Ceremony is tonight," he said, his voice too calm. "At the Crimson Palace. We're attending."
The air left Sera's lungs. "No," she breathed. "Garrett, please. Not tonight. It's… it's the anniversary."
"Which is exactly why you need the distraction," he said, still not looking at her. He placed the shell back on the mantel, just on the edge. "The invitation is for me and my mate. You will be gracious. You will smile. You will not speak unless spoken to. And you will not, under any circumstances, embarrass me in front of the High King." He turned then, and his gaze was a physical weight. "Do you understand?"
Tears of frustration and fear burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Crying only made him angrier. The mate bond pulsed in her chest, a sickening tug that urged her to obey, to please him, to smooth things over.
"What's so important about this ceremony?" she dared to ask, her voice barely a whisper.
For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his cold eyes. Not anger. Excitement. A greedy, nervous energy. It was gone so fast she might have imagined it.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he said, his voice dismissing her. "Put on the blue dress. The expensive one. We leave in fifteen minutes."
He strode toward the bedroom to get his coat. As he passed the mantel, his elbow brushed the carved seashell.
It teetered.
Slowly.
Then fell.
Time seemed to slow as it tumbled through the air. Sera's hand shot out, but she was too far away.
CRACK.
The sound was horrifically loud in the quiet room. The beautiful shell, Lila's treasure, hit the hardwood floor and split cleanly into two perfect halves.
Sera gasped, a sound of pure pain, as if the shell were her own heart breaking.
Garrett stopped. He looked down at the broken pieces. His expression didn't change. No regret. No apology. Just a slight, impatient tightening of his jaw.
"Clean that up," he said flatly. "Don't be late."
He walked out the front door, leaving it open to the chilly night.
Sera stood frozen, staring at the two halves of the shell. A symbol of everything she'd lost. Everything he'd destroyed. The mate bond yanked at her, a cruel command: Go to him. Follow him. He is yours.
But another feeling, older and fiercer, rose up from deep inside her. It was small, buried under layers of grief and fear. It was the feeling that had made her a marine biologist, that made her fight to protect fragile ecosystems. It was the feeling that had made her Lila's protector when their parents died.
It was a spark of defiance.
She would go tonight. She had no choice. But as she knelt to pick up the broken pieces of her sister's shell, carefully cradling them in her palm, she made a silent promise.
I'm not giving up, Lila. I will find a way.
A shadow fell across the floor. Garrett was back in the doorway, his silhouette blocking the moonlight.
"Now, Sera," he said.
His eyes met hers. And in the bright silver light of the rising Moonfall moon, just for a heartbeat, they didn't look gold at all.
They glowed with a sickly, alien shade of green.
Sera stumbled back, the broken shell pieces digging into her hand. The green flash was gone as quickly as it came, Garrett's eyes returning to their normal cold gold. But she had seen it. The same eerie green that sometimes flickered in the water's dark memories of Lila's death. A wave of cold terror, deeper than any she'd felt before, crashed over her. Her mate wasn't just cruel. There was something very, very wrong with him. Something not wolf at all. He pointed at her, then at his watch, his meaning clear. As he turned to go to the car, Sera's mind raced. What was he? And what was he planning to do at the Crimson Palace tonight?