Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 255

Chapter 255: Chapter 255
Seraphina’s POV

The training facility became my routine.

Wake up. Get the kids ready. Drop them at school. Drive to work. Train warriors. Pick up kids. Make dinner. Help with homework. Put them to bed. Repeat.

Simple. Structured. A way to not think.

“Riley! Your stance is too wide!”

She adjusted immediately. Good.

I walked among the trainees. Only ten of them left. The rest were at the northern border. Fighting rogues. Following Damien into battle.

*Don’t think about that.*

“Sophie! Higher! You’re dropping your guard!”

Work. Focus on work.

My phone sat in my pocket. Silent. Heavy. Like it was mocking me.

No messages yet today. Damien usually texted by noon. It was 2 PM.

*He’s busy. He’s fighting. Stop checking.*

I checked anyway. Nothing.

“Sera?” Jessica touched my arm. “You okay?”

“Fine.” I shoved the phone back in my pocket. “Let’s run the drill again.”

—

Claire found me after training ended.

I was in my office. Staring at schedules I couldn’t focus on. Trying not to look at my phone every thirty seconds.

“Sera?” She knocked softly. “Do you have a moment?”

I looked up. She stood in the doorway. Her face serious but kind.

“What’s wrong?” My stomach dropped instantly. “Is it Damien? Did something—”

“No, no.” She held up her hands quickly. “Nothing like that. I haven’t heard anything new from the front.”

My chest loosened slightly. “Then what?”

She came in. Closed the door. Sat across from my desk.

“The pack needs leadership,” she said. “With the Alpha gone. With Lucas deployed. With most of our senior warriors at the border.”

I set down my pen. “You have the Council.”

“The Council handles major decisions. Policy. Law.” Claire leaned forward. “But someone needs to handle the daily things. The disputes. The questions. The everyday running of pack life.”

“So get someone from the Council to do it.”

“We’re asking you to do it.”

I stared at her. “Me?”

“You’re the Luna, Sera.”

“I’m not—” The words caught. “We’re getting divorced.”

“Have you filed the papers?”

No. I’d written them. Left them on the kitchen table. But I hadn’t actually filed anything.

“That’s not the point.”

“It is exactly the point.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “Right now, you are still the Luna. And the pack needs you.”

“They don’t need me. They need someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“You rebuilt the female warrior program.” Claire gestured toward the door. “You earned their respect. Their trust. They’re already coming to you with questions.”

I thought about Jessica asking me to mediate that dispute yesterday. About Riley’s mother wanting advice. About Maya requesting help with pack paperwork.

“I don’t know how to run a pack.”

“You don’t have to run it. Just maintain it. Make decisions. Show leadership while the Alpha is away.”

*While he’s away.* Not gone. Not dead. Just away.

“What if I make mistakes?”

“Then we fix them.” Claire smiled. “Together. But doing nothing is worse than making imperfect decisions.”

I looked at the schedules on my desk. At the responsibility I didn’t want. At the role I’d been trying to escape.

But someone had to do it. And maybe… maybe I owed the pack that much.

“Fine.” The word felt heavy. “Temporarily. Until Damien gets back.”

*When. When he gets back.*

“Thank you.” Relief washed over Claire’s face. “The Council will support you. I’ll help however I can.”

She left. And I sat there. Staring at my phone.

Still no messages.

—

The house felt too big at night.

Even with the kids there. Even with Mrs. Chen cooking dinner. Even with all the lights on.

Too many empty rooms. Too many spaces where Damien should be.

“Mama! Watch this!” Lily stood on the couch.

“Lily, no—”

She jumped. I caught her. Barely.

“You’re going to break something.” I set her down firmly.

“But you always catch me!” Her face was pure joy.

“That’s not the point.” I pointed at the floor. “Furniture is for sitting. Not jumping.”

“Dad lets me jump.”

“Dad’s not here.” The words came out sharper than intended.

Lily’s face fell. “When’s he coming back?”

“I don’t know, baby.”

“But it’s been forever!”

Five days. It had been five days since Damien left for the border. Since he kissed the kids goodbye. Since he’d looked at me with something in his eyes I couldn’t name.

Five days that felt like five years.

“He’ll be back soon,” I lied. “He promised.”

*He better keep that promise.*

Adrian looked up from his homework at the kitchen table. “Have you heard from him today?”

“Not yet.” I pulled out my phone. Checked again. “But the border is probably busy.”

“Mom.” Adrian’s voice was too adult. Too knowing. “You check your phone every five minutes.”

“I do not.”

“You do.” He pushed his math book away. “And you get this look. Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You are.” He stood up. Walked over. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too.”

My throat closed up. “Adrian—”

“I know you and Dad are fighting.” His eyes were wet but he didn’t cry. “I know you’re getting divorced. But he’s still our dad. And it’s okay to worry about him.”

I pulled him close. Held him tight. “You’re too smart for eight years old.”

“Nine next month.”

“Still too smart.”

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out so fast I almost dropped it.

Damien.

**Damien: Border quiet tonight. Kids okay?**

Relief flooded through me. So strong my knees went weak.

He was alive. Safe. Okay.

“It’s Dad.” I showed Adrian the screen.

No message for me. Just for the kids. Which was fine. Good even.

We weren’t together anymore. We were getting divorced. He didn’t owe me anything.

So why did it hurt?

—

The next morning came with no message.

I told myself it was fine. He’d texted yesterday. He was busy. Fighting. Leading.

By noon, my hands were shaking every time I looked at my phone.

“Sera?” Jessica waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Sera?”

I blinked. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to grab lunch.”

“Oh. Sure.”

We walked to the cafeteria. Sat at our usual table. I picked at my food without really eating.

“You’re worried about him,” Jessica said. Not a question.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine since he left.”

I set down my fork. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.” She leaned forward. “Sera, I know you guys are having problems. Everyone knows. But that doesn’t mean you stop caring.”

“I don’t care.”

“You check your phone every two minutes.”

“I’m just—” I stopped. What was the point of lying? “I’m making sure he’s okay. For the kids.”

“Right. For the kids.” Jessica’s smile was knowing. “Not because you’re still in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

My phone buzzed.

I grabbed it immediately.

**Claire: Council meeting at 3 PM. They want your input on border supply allocations.**

Not Damien. Just work.

I set the phone down harder than necessary.

“See?” Jessica said gently. “You were hoping it was him.”

“Shut up.”

“Just saying.”

—

The Council meeting dragged on forever.

Supply chains. Resource allocation. Warrior rotations. All important. All necessary.

All completely impossible to focus on.

My phone sat on the table in front of me. Face up. Just in case.

“Luna?” Elder Morrison looked at me. “Your thoughts?”

I had no idea what he’d just asked. “Sorry. Can you repeat that?”

He frowned but did. Something about medical supplies.

I gave some answer. It must have been acceptable because he nodded and moved on.

My phone stayed silent.

By the time the meeting ended, it was 5:47 PM. Almost six hours since Damien’s last message.

*He’s fine. Stop panicking.*

I texted Lucas instead.

**Me: Any updates from the border?**

His response came quickly.

**Lucas: Heavy fighting today. Everyone’s exhausted but holding the line. Alpha is pushing hard.**

Pushing hard. Which meant what? Taking risks? Being reckless? Leading charges?

**Me: Is he okay?**

**Lucas: As far as I know. Communications are limited. I’ll update you if anything changes.**

If anything changes. Like if he gets hurt. Or worse.

*Stop. Stop thinking like that.*

I picked up the kids from school. Made dinner. Helped with homework. Put them to bed.

All on autopilot. All while checking my phone every five minutes.

Nothing.

At 11 PM, I gave up trying to sleep. Sat on the couch in the dark. Staring at my phone.

**Me: You said you’d check in daily.**

I deleted it. Too needy. Too desperate.

**Me: The kids are asking about you.**

Also deleted. Using the kids as an excuse was pathetic.

**Me: Just let me know you’re alive.**