Chapter 136: Chapter 136 The Wrong Target
Seraphina’s POV
The silence in the chapel pressed against me like a weight as I stood before the gathered mourners. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the folded paper containing words I never thought I would speak aloud.
This wasn’t just a eulogy. It was a reckoning with the ghosts that had haunted me for years.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the storm raging inside me.
"Mother. Dad. I need to start with the truth, because lies have no place here today. I loved you both, even when that love felt like poison in my veins, even when I convinced myself it had turned to hate."
The memories crashed over me in waves, threatening to pull me under.
"When I was five years old, all I wanted was to matter to you. I wanted to be seen, to be worthy of the love other children took for granted."
My voice grew stronger as I continued, the words flowing like blood from an old wound.
"Mother, you carried rage like a weapon, and I became your favorite target. The screaming, the slaps that left my ears ringing, the bruises I learned to hide beneath long sleeves. I convinced myself it was my fault. If I could just be quieter, faster, better, maybe you would look at me with something other than fury."
The congregation shifted uncomfortably, but I pressed on.
"At seven years old, I became an expert at reading your moods, trying desperately to earn scraps of affection. But nothing I did was ever enough. Dad, you loved me in your quiet way, but you never stood between us. You watched it happen, and your silence became its own kind of betrayal."
I paused, steadying myself against the podium.
"I can’t remember a single moment of pure joy from my childhood. Not one memory untainted by fear or pain. But here’s what I’ve learned, standing here today - I don’t blame you for it anymore."
A bitter laugh escaped me, echoing strangely in the sacred space.
"Why should I? My birth mother threw me away like garbage before I drew my first breath. If the woman who carried me for months couldn’t find me worthy of love, what hope did you have? At least you gave me shelter. At least Dad showed me glimpses of tenderness when you weren’t watching."
I straightened my shoulders, feeling a strange sort of peace settle over me.
"I’m not here to hate you. Forgiveness may come in time, though forgetting feels impossible. The scars you left are permanent, etched into my soul. But today, I choose to remember only the light."
My gaze shifted to Dad’s casket, and my voice softened.
"Dad, you were the first man who ever loved me, flawed as that love was. I’ll carry the memory of your gentle moments, the way you’d sneak me extra dessert when Mother wasn’t looking."
Then I turned to face Mother’s casket, my chest tight with complicated emotions.
"Mother, you made me stronger than steel. Every blow, every cruel word, every moment of rejection forged something unbreakable inside me. If I survived your storms, I can survive anything."
The guilt hit me like a physical blow, and I gripped the podium harder.
"Your lives were stolen from you, cut short by violence that should never have touched our family. I’ll carry the weight of that guilt forever, knowing you died because of the dangerous world I’m part of."
I looked out at the sea of faces, some shocked, others moved to tears.
"I forgive you both. And maybe someday, I’ll find a way to forget the worst of it. But even if I can’t, you’ll always be part of who I am. Goodbye."
I folded the paper with shaking hands and walked back toward my seat, my legs unsteady beneath me.
As I passed the front row, my eyes fell on Roxanne. She sat between two guards, shackles binding her wrists and ankles, her face a canvas of bruises and despair. Despite everything she’d done, despite the hatred burning in my chest, she deserved to be here.
I knelt in front of her, keeping my voice low enough that only she could hear.
"I made sure you could be here today, Roxanne. Dad would have wanted it."
Her red-rimmed eyes met mine, and I saw the weight of her guilt crushing her.
"They loved you more than life itself," I whispered. "That’s why Mother resented me so much. Because I wasn’t you. Because you were perfect, and I was just the broken substitute they were stuck with."
Roxanne’s face crumpled, and I reached out to lift her chin with gentle fingers.
"Don’t you dare carry guilt that isn’t yours to bear. You have enough real sins to answer for. Say your goodbye to them. Because after today, you’ll rot in a cell for what you did to me."
She nodded through her tears, and I rose, settling beside Julian. His warm hand found mine immediately, grounding me with his strength and unwavering support.
We endured the remaining speeches - distant relatives, pack members sharing memories. When Roxanne finally stood to speak, her voice breaking with every word, I felt it.
A presence that didn’t belong. Cold. Malevolent. Familiar.
My blood turned to ice as recognition dawned. Dorian was here.
I stood abruptly, and Julian’s concerned gaze found mine instantly.
"Where are you going?" his voice echoed through our mindlink, sharp with suspicion.
"Just need some air," I replied, forcing calm into my mental voice. "I’ll be right back."
"I’m coming with you."
"No." I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, hoping it looked natural. "I need a moment alone. There are guards everywhere. I’m safe."
I walked toward the building’s rear, every instinct screaming danger. The old bathroom window opened soundlessly under my touch - muscle memory from countless childhood escapes.
The scent trail led me into the woods behind the property, and there he was. Dorian leaned casually against an ancient oak, wearing that signature smile that had haunted my nightmares.
"Bold of you to show your face here after murdering my parents," I snarled.
He pushed off from the tree, moving closer with predatory grace.
"Murder?" he drawled, head tilted mockingly. "Stop lying to yourself, Seraphina. This is exactly what you wanted."
"No."
"Yes," he insisted, eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. "You wanted them dead for every beating, every cruel word, every moment they made you feel worthless. I just gave my dear sister the revenge she was too noble to take herself."
A harsh laugh tore from my throat.
"You’re wrong. Completely, utterly wrong. I didn’t want them dead. I was prepared to spend my life wrestling with those demons, not creating new ones. You came here because you’re a sadist who feeds on suffering. You thought you could watch me crumble."
Power began building inside me, the heat of my White Wolf rising to the surface.
"But the joke’s on you," I whispered, feeling energy crackling through my veins. "I knew you’d come. I’ve been waiting for this moment. You took the only father I ever knew."
Dorian’s smile flickered as he sensed the shift in my energy, the deadly intent radiating from my skin.
"You can’t touch me, Seraphina-"
I didn’t let him finish. White-hot power surged through me, gathering at my outstretched hand in a focused beam of silver death. I unleashed everything - my rage, my grief, my need for justice - in one devastating blast aimed directly at his heart.
Panic flashed across his features, but he twisted aside at the last second.
Someone else stepped into my line of fire.
The energy struck them instead, and they collapsed with a sickening thud.
I had just killed an innocent person.
