For the Broken

3 🔴 Realistic

"Rise and shine! We have a big day ahead of us."

The curtains swung open, revealing the gentle blush of the rising sun. Seraphina growled and buried her head under the blanket.

Her teeth clenched together, the effort to contain her discontent palpable. This was unprecedented; Osiris had never done this before. Every morning, he'd kiss her farewell, leaving her to emerge from the covers whenever she pleased. What was this intrusion?

"Come on, Phina, time's ticking. We've got a meeting this morning." Osiris's footsteps approached the bed, but Seraphina remained still.

Why should she move? It wasn't like she was ready to venture out. The cabin had confined her for weeks, and she had no intention of changing that today, not with the tightness constricting her chest.

A brisk tug on her blanket exposed her to the glaring sun. "What the hell, Osiris?" She sat up, her hair a golden riot of knots and frizz.

Osiris stood by the bed, blanket clutched in his arms, a waning smile on his lips. "Excellent! You're up."

"Hand me the blanket, and close those damn curtains." Her demand was unwavering. Yet, Osiris defied it, tossing the blanket into a corner chair before approaching the dresser. An idle tray of food awaited.

Balancing the tray, he advanced to her side, setting it gently on her lap. "Neither request granted. You've got one hour," he stated, as if speaking to a child.

A surge of impulse tempted Seraphina to hurl the tray at his face. Who gave him the authority to dictate her actions? She was a Luna, just as much as he was an alpha. He held no dominion over her choices.

Was he blind to her daily unraveling? Did he not perceive the fractured soul beneath her eyes? How could he demand anything from her in this shattered state?

Her gaze hardened as it settled on the food. Bitterness twisted her lips. "I don't know what's gotten into your head, but count me out of whatever you're plotting."

His smile wavered, his words bearing more weight than he'd admit. He had to remind himself that this wasn't the same Phina he met months ago, all shy and affectionate. This was the version of his mate stricken with heartache, aching and broken.

Osiris sighed, his resolve faltering. "Please, Phina, let's not argue. Just—" He headed for the bedroom door, swinging it open. "—finish your breakfast and change. Spare me the task of dragging you out."

A wave of irritation washed over her, her eyes briefly igniting with a crimson glow. The door's click marked his exit, and her anger ebbed.

The aroma of breakfast made her mouth water. She hesitated, reluctant to give Osiris any semblance of approval. Still, her stomach grumbled in protest. She devoured the plate with a sudden hunger, realizing she couldn't even recall her last proper meal.

An hour later, Osiris returned, as promised. However, Seraphina remained ensnared in her robe, displaying no effort toward presentability.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone holding a hint of disappointment. "Phina..."

Seated by the window in her robe, Sera watched the pack's summer activity unfold from a distance. Laughter of children at play filled the air, a stark contrast to her internal turmoil. A surge of unidentifiable emotion churned within her chest.

Osiris approached, their emotions laid bare to each other. Their bond resembled a shattered glass, each shard a window into their souls.

"I'm doing my best," he mumbled, mostly to himself, settling on the floor beside her.