“I-“
“She’ll rest now, Doctor.” Kieran’s tone brooked no argument. “Thank you so much for everything.”
The doctor nodded. “Don’t hesitate to alert the nurses if you need anything.”
Once we were alone, I opened my mouth and forced out the dry, cracked words: “You’re… not… my husband.”
Kieran rolled his eyes.
“All your identification documents still read Seraphina Blackthorne, so…” He shrugged.
Dammit! I’d dragged my feet on changing the name because even though I knew I was no longer a Blackthorne, I didn’t feel like a Lockwood either.
“Don’t… have to stay,” I rasped.
His grip tightened around my fingers. “Try and make me leave.”
I wanted to argue-assure him that hospital security would keep me safe-but the few words I’d said had drained me, and Kieran’s hand was so warm and comforting around mine.
“That’s it,” he murmured, stroking my head, “Sleep, Sera. I’ll be here when you wake. You’re safe now.”
Against all logic, against the terror of being hunted, his presence anchored me. For the first time in years, I didn’t fear the dark.
Because the devil himself was keeping watch.
KIERAN’S POVED
I watched Sera like a hawk.
Just watched the steady rise and fall of Sera’s chest like it held the secrets of the universe.
Even now-with her awake and resting-the image of her bleeding out on that bridge played behind my eyelids every time I closed them. How close I’d come to losing her. Again.
Our hands lay entwined on the hospital blanket. When was the last time we’d touched like this? Not during the divorce. Not during our marriage. Had we ever?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out with my other hand, not wanting to let go of Sera’s.
“Margaret.” My voice sounded rough even to me. “I was about to call you.”
Her voice was shaky with anxiety when she said, “Did something happen? Is she okay? Is she-?”
“She woke up.” I cut off the panic before it could spiral. Margaret had been a ghost in these halls since the shooting-another casualty of this nightmare. First Edward, now Sera. The grief hung on her like a second skin.
She’d begged to take my place at Sera’s bedside. I’d refused. Not just because Margaret was barely holding herself together, but because the thought of walking away made my wolf snarl.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Margaret sobbed, and I heard a shuffle like she’d dropped into a chair.
“How is she?”
“On initial examination, the doctor said everything looked good. She just has to rest a lot, and she has a long road of healing ahead of her.”
“But she’ll live?” Margaret’s voice wobbled, thick with tears. “My daughter won’t die?”
The thought of Sera dying was like my own silver bullet to the heart.
“No.” My thumb brushed Sera’s knuckles. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Margaret let out a heavy sigh of relief. A pause. Then, so quiet I almost missed it: “Do you… Do you think she’d want to see me?”
I ground my teeth. Over the last couple of weeks since the funeral, Sera had made it a point to stay away from her family, not hiding her intention to cut all ties. Even injured and enervated, she’d wanted me to leave. I could only imagine what kind of welcome Margaret would receive.
“I think we should give her some space for now,” I said carefully. “Let her fully recover. And you also need to rest, Margaret; you’ve gone through a lot of heartache in such a short time.”
Margaret sniffed. “I understand. Thank you, Kieran. I know you two are divorced, and you don’t have to-“
“She’s Daniel’s mother.” The lie came easily. “Divorced or not, she’s my responsibility.” At least, that’s what I had been telling myself.
Just as I hung up the phone with Margaret, Sera’s phone on the side table rang.
An unfamiliar name flashed on Sera’s screen: Elaine,
I answered warily. “Hello-“
“How’s my favorite wordsmith doing?” A woman’s cheerful voice cut me off. “You ghosted me for two days! Writer’s block? Look, I know divorce sucks, you could be in a mental slump, but you’re newly single, girl! Go live a little-your readers need that sequel. That man never deserved you anyway.”
I pulled the phone away from me, frowned at the name, and put it back. “Ma’am, I think you have the wrong number.”
There was a pause. And then, “Isn’t this Sera’s phone?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“I’m Elaine, her editor. Could you kindly give the phone to her?”
I was frowning so hard, I probably had a unibrow. “Editor?”
“Yeah, just as I’ve told you,” she snapped. “Who is this?”
“Kieran, her hus-” I caught myself in time. It was one thing to let the hospital staff believe we were still married; it was another to introduce myself that way. “Her ex-husband.”
The temperature dropped. “Ah. The divorced ex-husband. Why do you have her phone?”
“Lady, what do you mean by ‘editor’?”
A dry laugh. “Oh, this is rich. She said you didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“That your ex-wife is a bestselling author? That she’s sold half a million books worldwide under a pen name?”
My mouth fell open, and I glanced at Sera sleeping peacefully, unaware of the bomb that had just been dropped on my head.
She was an… author? What the fuck?
I’d vaguely wondered why she never asked for money, but I chalked it up to the fact that she subsisted off the Lockwood family funds and never thought of it twice.
All those hours she’d spent locked in her room…
She hadn’t been hiding.
She’d been writing, building a career for herself.
Elaine’s voice sharpened. “Now that I’ve satisfied your curiosity, put Sera on.”
“She’s… unavailable.”
“What does that mean?”
I exhaled. “She’s in the hospital. There was an… incident.”
Elaine gasped. “Oh, poor Sera! Is she okay? Can I come to see her?”
“She will be.” My grip tightened on the phone. “But no visitors yet.”
“Take care of her, Kieran.” Elaine’s tone held a warning.
I looked at the woman who’d been my wife for ten years-the woman I’d never truly known.
I swallowed. “Yeah. I will.”
After I hung up, I grabbed my phone and typed out Sera’s pen name into my Google search.
My jaw dropped at the results.
She went by only Seraphina-neither Blackthorne nor Lockwood-and over the past decade, she’d published more than ten books. A 4.6-star average. A devoted fanbase.
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