Seraphina’s Tears & Pain

  The pack felt it like a weight pressing against their chests, the pain rippling through their bond with him. 

  Each member stilled in their movements, ears pricked as they listened to the raw anguish of their leader.

  Inside their homes and shelters, the wolves turned their gazes to the sky, their hearts heavy with sorrow. 

  They knew the truth—the alpha’s mate, his fated other half, was rejecting him. 

  And no matter how strong Adolphus was, no wolf could bear the breaking of that sacred bond without it leaving deep scars on their soul.

  Elder wolves whispered quiet prayers to the moon, asking for guidance, for healing, for a way to mend what was broken between their alpha and his mate. 

  They knew that if she continued to reject him, there was little they could do to comfort him or his wolf. 

  The bond wasn’t just emotional; it was spiritual, etched into the core of who they were.

  Mothers hushed their children, explaining in soft tones why the air felt so heavy tonight, why their alpha’s sorrow was now their sorrow too. 

  The pack was a family, and the weight of one was shared by all.

  In the heart of the forest, a group of younger wolves gathered silently beneath the rain-soaked trees, their faces solemn. “Do you think she’ll ever accept him?” one whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm.

  “I don’t know,” another replied, her gaze distant. “But if she doesn’t… we might lose him. His wolf might…” She trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

  The pack healer stood near the temple dedicated to the moon goddess, her hands clasped tightly as she gazed up at the stormy heavens. 

  She prayed fervently for the goddess to intervene, to bring peace to her alpha and his mate. 

  But even as she prayed, doubt lingered. The goddess could guide, but she could not force the heart.

  Meanwhile, Adolphus stood alone in the rain, his howl fading into the storm. 

  His wolf stirred within him, restless and aching, yearning for the connection that was slipping further away. 

  The bond wasn’t severed—yet—but it was frayed, and the pain of it was unbearable.

  He lowered his head, his glowing eyes dimming as he gazed at the closed door where Seraphina had disappeared. 

  He could still feel her presence, her emotions, her conflict. She hated him, and he understood why. 

  But his wolf didn’t care about hatred or blame. It only cared that its mate was pulling away.

  The pack felt his agony like a pulse in the air, a reminder of what was at stake. 

  If his mate truly rejected him, there was no telling what would become of him—or of their pack. 

  Without her, the alpha’s soul and wolf would never be whole again.

  They realized that they didn’t exactly like her but they had to be nice to her so that she will accept their Alpha.

  They couldn’t have a mad Alpha.

  ############

  Meanwhile 

  Adolphus stepped into the house, shaking the rain from his hair. The storm outside hadn’t calmed, but the atmosphere inside was even heavier. 

  His gaze swept across the dimly lit living room and froze.

  There she was, standing in the center of the room, her back to him, shoulders slightly hunched. 

  Her wet clothes clung to her frame, the shirt she’d gotten from his mother soaked through and sticking to her skin. Even from behind, he could tell something was wrong. 

  The soft sniffle that reached his ears only confirmed it.

  “Seraphina,” he called, his voice low and laced with concern as he moved toward her.

  She didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge him, but her hand moved to her face to quickly wipe away a tear. 

  He was by her side in a heartbeat, gently turning her to face him. 

  His large hands cradled her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked her cheeks. 

  Her golden-brown eyes shimmered with unshed sorrow, her lip trembling just slightly.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a plea.

  She didn’t answer, only sniffled again, her gaze falling to the floor. Her silence felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

  “Seraphina…” His heart ached at the sight of her, and he hated this. Hated her sadness. Anger he could handle—her fire and sharp tongue had become familiar. But this? This quiet devastation? It was unbearable.

  She shivered, the cold of the rain still clinging to her. Without another word, Adolphus wrapped an arm around her and guided her to his room. 

  Her feet moved automatically, as if she didn’t have the energy to resist him.

  Once inside, he grabbed a towel from his cupboard, unfolding it with quick, purposeful movements. Standing before her, he gently placed it over her head and began to dry her rain-soaked hair. She stayed still, her eyes downcast, letting him take care of her in silence.

  He worked quietly, his fingers tender as they combed through her damp strands with the towel. But inside, his mind was a storm of anxiety. 

  Why was she so quiet? What had broken her this way?

  “Seraphina,” he tried again, this time softly calling her name as if it might coax her out of her shell.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, acknowledging him without looking up.

  His brows furrowed, his worry deepening. “Do you want to change out of these clothes?” he asked, his voice still gentle but tinged with urgency. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like this.”

  She nodded slowly, not meeting his eyes.

  Relieved she’d responded, he moved to his dresser, pulling out a clean, oversized sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. 

  They’d swallow her small frame, but at least she’d be warm. As he placed the clothes on the bed, he glanced back at her. 

  She stood there still, hugging herself slightly, her wet clothes clinging to her and amplifying her vulnerability.

  Adolphus’s chest tightened. She might not be a werewolf, but he could feel her emotions like they were his own.