Luna Everleigh's POV
***
Silence pressed against the great hall like a suffocating fog.
The name still echoed in my mind, the weight of it heavy, almost unbearable.
Seraphine.
Not Ezra. Not some forgotten ghost of Rhydian's past, but her.
The woman who had once been promised to him.
The woman who was supposed to be dead.
My gaze locked onto her as she stepped forward, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across her face. Her beauty was striking, but sharp—like the edge of a blade honed for vengeance. Her long, obsidian hair spilled over her shoulders, contrasting with the pale silver of her cloak. But it was her eyes that unsettled me the most—dark, burning with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Did you miss me, Rhydian?" Her voice was smooth, taunting, dripping with something venomous.
Rhydian hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken.
That was what made my stomach twist.
He should have denied it. Should have said something—anything—to refute the accusation in her words. But he didn't.
His body was rigid beside me, his jaw tight.
And that silence? It was a confirmation in itself.
Seraphine smiled, slow and knowing. "Ah," she murmured, tilting her head. "So you do remember."
A muscle in Rhydian's jaw ticked, but still, he said nothing.
The room around us had turned to stone. No one dared to move. No one dared to breathe.
I forced my voice to stay even. "You're supposed to be dead."
Her gaze flicked to me, and something dark flashed behind her eyes.
"I was dead," she said, her voice low, almost thoughtful. "Or at least, I might as well have been. That's what happens when the man you love leaves you to die."
Her words sliced through the air, cutting deeper than I expected.
I turned to Rhydian.
He didn't flinch. Didn't deny it.
And that silence felt like betrayal.
—
To be continued