She used to think she was cursed.
That there was something deeply, horribly wrong with her. Something broken that made people flinch when she walked past. That made mothers pull their children closer. That made her own father look through her like she was just… air.
She thought maybe if she were quieter, softer, smaller… maybe then the pack would stop glaring at her like she was a shadow in the sunlight.
But no matter how much she shrank, they still looked at her like she didn't belong. Like she wasn't one of them.
And now?
Now she knew why.
Elryn hadn't wanted to say it, but Seraphina had seen it in her eyes—that mix of fear and guilt and love that always trembled just behind the woman's silence.
Then came the truth.
A truth that hit like a slap.
She was born of blood and moon.
A forbidden child. A mistake in the eyes of the clans. A threat wrapped in the skin of a girl.
Half werewolf. Half vampire.
Unwanted by both.
Marked by the crest of the Moon and the seal of Blood. Her body was a map of secrets no one ever wanted her to read.
And Vael… he hadn't sugarcoated it.
He looked her in the eyes and told her what everyone else had tried to hide.
"You were never meant to belong to just one world."
That sentence lived in her chest now like a second heartbeat.
She didn't cry after Elryn's confession.
She didn't even speak.
She just went quiet. Not the old kind of quiet — the one where she was afraid to breathe too loud. This was different. This quiet came from something cracking open inside her. Something that had been asleep for too long.
And now, she was wide awake.
She sat on the roof that night, legs tucked beneath her, staring at the stars. The wind whipped through her hair, carrying the cold, sharp scent of the woods.
Everything looked the same… but it didn't feel the same.
She could still hear Elryn's voice trembling as she confessed. "Your father… he wasn't from here. Not from any pack. He was… something else."
Something else.
Seraphina had spent so long trying to be this or that. Trying to fit. Trying to choose.
Now she wondered if she was never meant to choose at all.
Maybe she was always meant to be both.
And maybe—just maybe—that wasn't something to hate.
She thought about the lessons she had learned too late.
Like how people can love you and still lie to you.
How silence can wound deeper than words.
And how sometimes, the truth hurts more because it's what you always suspected.
The real pain was never that she didn't belong.
It was that she kept trying to.
That she kept begging for scraps of love from people who were terrified of her truth.
She thought about Karl—her father, the ghost in every chapter of her life. He had never spoken of her mother. Never looked at her with warmth. Only duty.
Now she wondered if the weight he carried was guilt. Or shame. Or maybe fear.
Because she wasn't just the daughter of a werewolf and a vampire.
She was the living proof that their world had already changed.
The prophecy was about her.
And everyone knew it.
She could still hear the words echoing from her dream:
"When the blood of two enemies births the child of dusk, the world will kneel… or burn."
Seraphina wasn't sure if she was meant to save the world or destroy it.
She wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore.
All she knew was this: she couldn't go back to pretending.
Not after this.
Not after Vael.
Not after the book Elryn tried to hide.
She glanced at her wrist, where the mark still glowed faintly beneath her skin.
They all knew. They'd known for years.
And they'd let her suffer anyway.
That's what burned the most.
The lies weren't just to protect her. They were to control her. To keep her small. To keep her afraid of her own power.
But no more.
She wasn't the same girl who begged to be accepted.
She was still angry. Still confused. Still hurting.
But for the first time, she wasn't ashamed.
She wasn't hiding anymore.
If she was a mistake, she was a powerful one.
And if they feared her, maybe they should.
Because now… she was starting to see it too.
The "more" Vael spoke of.
The wildness in her bones.
The storm she carried in her blood.
She wasn't ready yet. Not fully.
But a shift had begun.
No more shrinking.
No more begging.
Let them stare. Let them whisper.
She was done being less.
She stood and looked toward the forest. Somewhere out there, Vael was watching. Waiting. Knowing.
And somehow, that gave her comfort.
She whispered into the wind, not a question this time, but a promise.
"I may not know who I am yet… but I'm done apologizing for it."
🖤 Author's Note:
Seraphina's finally seeing the truth — and herself — clearly. This is her turning point.
If you felt her shift in this chapter, drop a 🖤 and tell me:
Have you ever had to unlearn the lies you were told about yourself?