Sera's Pov
The moment my father called my name, the air in the room shifted.
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I just ran—well, stumbled, really, because I was wearing six inch heels and the floor was polished—but I ran anyway. As fast as I could, past watchful eyes and rustling gowns, toward the one person who could still make me feel like a child who was safe.
He opened his arms with a laugh just as I reached him. "I wasn't sure if I'd get this kind of welcome."
I collided into his chest with a small gasp and wrapped my arms around his middle, holding on tight. I didn't care that we were in the middle of a formal gathering. I didn't care about the stares or the whispers or even the fact that the Alpha King himself might have been watching.
This was my father. And I missed him more than I could say.
Elias cleared his throat to our side. "So, I guess I'm invisible now?" he teased, crossing his arms. "Two months away and suddenly the Beta doesn't matter."
I turned to him with a watery grin and pulled him into a hug too. "Don't be dramatic. I missed you, Elias."
He patted my back with exaggerated care. "You better have. Your dad's been brooding without you. I've had to hear about your childhood stories five times over."
We all chuckled, and I stepped back, taking them both in properly.
They looked older. Not drastically, but… wearier. Especially my father. His eyes held a tiredness I recognized all too well.
I forced myself to smile. "You look good."
He gave a skeptical look. "I look tired."
"Well, yeah, that too," I admitted, and Elias barked a laugh.
I tried to keep the moment light, but guilt pooled in my stomach. My absence had left a hole—not just in the pack, but in them. In him.
"I'm sorry for leaving you to manage everything alone," I said, quieter now. "No Luna, no daughter. That's a lot."
"I'm not alone," my father said, shooting Elias a look. "I have this one glued to my side more than ever."
"Oh?" I smirked. "So you two finally admitted you're an old married couple?"
Elias groaned. "Don't start."
"Delilah would agree with me," I added, trying to suppress a grin.
"She does," he muttered, resigned. "Actually, she sent a message for you." He leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to share classified information. "Said that if the Alpha King's being a stubborn ass, there are plenty of handsome—and pretty—trainees here who might appreciate your charm."
My eyes went wide. "She said that?"
"She said that," he confirmed solemnly. "And she added she's willing to help arrange the whole affair."
I groaned and shook my head. "Please don't encourage her."
My father chuckled beside me, but then his expression softened as he looked at me again. "You've lost weight."
"Have I?" I lied.
"Are they feeding you properly?"
"Yes."
"Are you eating properly?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "As much as I can. Training takes a lot out of you."
"I can imagine," he said quietly, brushing a thumb along my cheek. "And Lucian?"
I met his gaze. "He treats me like the others. Nothing more."
He studied me for a beat too long, but didn't push. "Good."
That single word carried more meaning than he said out loud. I heard it in the way he said it—protective, relieved, but still watchful.
"I'm fine, really," I said gently.
"You don't have to say that if you're not."
"I know."
"Good." He gave my shoulder a small squeeze. "Because no matter where you are, who you're around, you're still my daughter. And you're stronger than anyone gives you credit for."
I smiled up at him. "Thanks, Dad."
We were interrupted a moment later by someone from a visiting pack. Formalities, politics, greetings. The usual. I knew it meant we had to separate, at least for now.
So I gave them both a final hug, promising we'd talk more before the night ended.
Still smiling, I turned towards a waiter again. But before I could take more than a few steps, something at the edge of the hall caught my attention.
A movement—too quick, too out of place.
My smile dimmed as I focused on the far end of the room, where the light didn't quite reach. Like a shadow against shadows. Too deliberate. Too cautious.
I didn't like the way that settled in my gut.