SERAPHINA’S POV

I stare down at Artemis's sleeping face, resting on my thighs, running my fingers through his soft and silky black hair. It feels impossibly light and soft as I trace my fingers gently across the lines of his face.

I can’t help but feel bad for him, having to hear about his mother’s condition from someone else, and from none other than Kamila’s father, no less, while his own father kept such important news from him.

In the end, we made a call to find out she’s stable ...