SERAPHINA'S POV
Right into my first day back at school-following the series of events that included being the target of a psychopath, hallucinations, and befriending Artemis just before he's stabbed with a dagger-something feels distinctly absent.
It's as if a sense of warmth, which used to fill the otherwise lifeless hallways of Raven Wood Academy, has evaporated, leaving the opening hours of my day depressingly bleak.
I can't pinpoint the cause, but this void haunts me even as I exit my third class, mere minutes after the bell.
Dragging my feet to my locker, I switch out textbooks, my shoulders drooping more than usual. I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that I don't even notice someone approaching.
When I close my locker and step forward, I mistakenly collide with them, sending their stack of books tumbling to the floor.
"I'm so sorry," I apologize, still not raising my eyes to see their face.
As I bend down to help pick up the fallen books, our hands touch, both reaching for the same book at the exact moment.
It's only now that I look up, locking eyes with Lucian's gray gaze for a charged second.
It's the kind of moment that's straight out of a rom-com-the defining 'zing' when two destined souls make eye contact.
Except I can't stand cliché rom-coms, and my mood is in the gutter.
"Oh, it's you," I manage to say, mustering a smile that fails to hide the tiny leap my heart takes upon seeing him.
"Hey, Sera," he replies, standing up with the book I'd left for him. He leans in, extending his hand toward me.
"Nice to see you, too," I force out, my voice chirpier than I feel.
It's the kind of tone Juliet would use to feign excitement, except I can't quite pull it off. My smile falters at the edges.
His brow furrows. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I say, grasping his hand and pulling myself up. "Honestly, bumping into someone and scattering their books is the most exciting thing that's happened to me all day." My sigh is heavy, undercutting my words.
He raises an eyebrow, his expression more puzzled than before. "So, you bump into people for fun?"
I offer a shrug.
It's not that I intentionally collide with people; it's more like I'm grasping for something-anything-to fill the hollow space in my chest, even if it leads to uncomfortable situations.
"Well, if you're into it, I don't mind being your 'bump buddy.' We can pretend we haven't seen each other all day and just bump into each other again," he suggests, the craziness of it somehow rendered adorable by his sincerity.
I attempt a chuckle, but it emerges more like the strained cackle of a chicken awaiting its fate-anything but infectious.
His response laughter is nervous, his eyes clouded with a growing concern that wasn't there before my awkward laugh.
"Sera?" he questions, eyes probing.
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure you're okay? You look drained and a little out of it."
I opt to lie through my teeth, but being faced with such a direct question, I can't maintain the façade.
"To be honest, I don't know. I feel this weight in my chest, this unexplainable emptiness. It's like I've got everything I fought for, but I can't muster an ounce of excitement."
"Hey, that's understandable. You've been through hell and a lot of traumatic incidents that should be enough to break anyone else. It's normal to feel off, to have aftershocks," he reassures.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Would you like me to request a few more days off for you? I'm filling in for Artemis until he's better, after all."
The mention of Artemis' name-a name I've deliberately walled off in my mind-strikes a nerve, a dull ache in my chest. But I push through it, forcing a smile.
"Thank you."
"Actually," he hesitates, his fingers anxiously raking through his hair, "maybe I could take some time off too. We could hang out, you know? Do something to distract you, give you a sense of normalcy?"
His sincerity pierces through me. How can I say no, especially when he's giving such an endearing awkwardness?
"That sounds lovely," I finally reply.
Perhaps this break is just what I need to get Artemis off my mind. To forget about his condition-whether he's recovering or not. It's been precisely two days, 16 hours, and 12 minutes since I last heard any news about him.
A countdown I've tried to ignore, ticking away in the back of my mind.
It weighs down on me, painfully so.
Just then, the hallway's atmosphere does a full 180.
What was once light and warm now feels icy and dense. The lively chatter and laughter evaporate, replaced by hushed whispers that spike in a wave of tension.
Every pair of eyes shifts in one unified direction.
Curiosity piqued, I look too. And there he is-Morgan. Restrained by what appears to be silver chains, two security personnel are escorting him out of the school, probably following an unscheduled meeting with the administration.
The moment I see him, memories of that fateful night crash over me in vivid flashes.
Artemis' blood pouring out as Morgan plunged the knife in, my heart nearly stopping with every pulse of his fading life. Then comes the unsettling memory of my own blade slicing through flesh, a moment where I nearly became a monster.
There was blood, so much blood that night.
As if sensing my gaze, Morgan turns to look directly at me. His eyes, brimming with venom, yearn for my destruction.
I gasp and step back, nearly stumbling until Lucian steadies me, turning me around to shield me from that spiteful gaze as Morgan is dragged past us.
My body trembles uncontrollably, and Lucian's hand pats my back.
"It's okay; he can't hurt you anymore," he whispers soothingly.
"What happened?" I manage to ask, my voice shaky.
He looks deep into my eyes, assessing my mental state before divulging the details.
"Just yesterday, information came out about his father's involvement in illegal activities - omega trafficking and crimes against other packs. Stripped of their title and power, and with the additional charge of harming the future Alpha King, Morgan lost his backing. The school finally expelled him, and now he's headed to juvenile detention for high treason," Lucian explains.
A single, incredulous "Oh" escapes my lips as I turn to look at the empty space where Morgan once stood.
Kamila, it seems, kept her word by ensuring the leak about his family. It's a bittersweet sense of relief, knowing I've finally exacted my revenge, that he won't be able to hurt anyone else.
If Artemis were here, he'd probably spoil this moment of triumph with some annoyingly inappropriate comment, instigating a pointless argument. We'd not speak for a bit, then I'd finally get an apology out of him.
Unintentionally, a smile creeps across my face.
But the realization hits me: I shouldn't be thinking about Artemis, not when our contract-bound proximity is on the verge of ending.
Its better this way for everyone, to focus on more important things, adapt to this new and vibrant life ahead of me with new friends.
I know all of this and yet, that empty void doesn't go away.
"Actually, Lucian," I pivot to face him, guilt gnawing at me but unable to hold back. "Maybe we should postpone our hangout. I'm not feeling up to it right now."
There's a flash of disappointment across his face, but he masks it quickly, nodding with understanding.
"I'm sorry," I offer.
"It's okay. Whatever helps you feel better."
"Thank you."
I turn to walk away, eager to escape before my guilt and his expression conspire to change my mind.
The walls of Raven Wood Academy seem to close in, suffocating me. Every step is a reminder that I can't make sense of my own thoughts, let alone deal with the world around me.
I reach the junction between the boys' and girls' dormitories and, instead of heading to my own room, I find myself veering off.
Drawn as if by some invisible force, I end up standing in front of the door that holds memories-our shared space when he was okay.
I pull out the spare key I still have, unlocking the door and stepping into a room frozen in time. It's as we left it before that fateful party.
I wander around, my eyes catching on sentimental reminders that pull his face into my mind's eye, his scent lingering in the air, stitched into the very fabric of the room.
Finally, I settle on his bed, where the weight of our last interaction here-an argument over that damn party-crashes over me.
I choke on my regret, and, swallowed by the silence, a harsh truth settles in.
I miss Artemis Sinclair more than I could've ever anticipated.