SERAPHINA'S POV
It was an enjoyable morning. The sun streamed through my kitchen window, and for the first time in months, I felt light. Hopeful.
Every muscle screamed in protest as I measured flour, but the pain had become an old friend—one whose constant presence meant progress.
I had started training with Maya, and if Lucian was a sadistic bastard, then she was the devil herself.
"You've got more in you, Sera!" she'd snarled yesterday, her boot nudging my trembling thighs during yet another impossible drill. "Dig deeper!"
And somehow, I always made it.
The memory of her rare praise still warmed me. Advanced techniques. Real progress. Each bruise was a stepping stone toward becoming someone who could stand unshaken between Daniel and the world's cruelties.
Today called for celebration. I turned up the radio, letting the upbeat pop song guide my movements as I danced between counter and bowl, flour dusting my arms like battle scars. The sweet scent of vanilla filled the air—
