Chapter 167 People's expectations

Chapter 167 People's expectations
Seraphine POV

The silence after I asked my question just dragged on, sharp and uncomfortable. What if Wildfire wants me to come back? The thought hung in the air between us... heavy, risky, like everything was about to shift. 

I sat across from Agora in this cramped sitting room, my hands twisting together on my lap. The fire crackled. Outside, dusk crept over the palace gardens, shadows stretching across the grass. Neither of us moved. No one said a word. I hated this... the waiting, this suspense that made me want to crawl out of my skin. Waiting for an answer that scared me to death.

Eventually, Agora leaned back in his chair. He just kept staring at me, unblinking and impossible to read. After a moment, he finally spoke. The voice was barely above a whisper, he asked, “What do you want?”

That wasn’t what I expected. I blinked at him. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know.” His tone stayed even. “But it’s my question now.”

Frustration prickled under my skin. “Agora.”

He didn’t budge. “What do you want, Seraphine?”

The question hit harder this time. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I actually didn’t know. That realization stung. For months my whole world had been about surviving... getting away, finding answers, just staying alive another day. Every choice, every plan, was just about not dying. And now... now people wanted something else from me. Something huge. Something I didn’t think I had. They wanted me to matter. That thought turned my stomach in knots.

I looked over at the fire, at the flickering orange. Anywhere but at him. “I don’t know.” The confession felt raw, like tearing off a bandage. Honest for once.

Agora just sat there, quiet. He didn’t push or try to fix it, didn’t jump in with advice. He gave me room, and somehow that made it worse. It made me want to admit more... stuff I barely let myself think about, let alone say out loud.

I laughed, a small, humorless sound. “My whole life, all I’ve cared about is not starving. Food for tomorrow, that used to be the biggest thing.” My throat went tight. “And now people want me to save a pack.” The absurdity tasted bitter. It almost made me laugh again, but the exhaustion just weighed me down.

Agora just kept listening... not saying anything, not judging, just actually there. I found myself going on. “I’m not a princess.” The words slipped out, quick and defensive. I said it again, like I needed to make it true. “I’m not.”

Agora’s eyes softened, that look I hated because it always made me feel too much. “I don’t know how to lead. I don’t know how to rule anyone.” My voice shook a little. “I barely know who I am.”

The room got really quiet, except for the fire. Even that sound felt far away, muffled, like I was submerged underwater. “I spent my whole life being told I was worthless.” My mouth felt dry; I forced myself to keep going. “Now everyone expects me to turn into something big, someone important.” The words twisted up into a sharp, pained laugh. “They skipped a few steps.”

To my surprise, Agora almost smiled. He didn’t, not fully, but it was close. For a second, it made me want to smile too. The feeling faded fast, replaced by that old familiar fear. “What if they need someone stronger?” I asked. Quieter this time, almost whispering. “What if they need someone better?” My chest hurt. Because I wasn’t really talking about Wildfire anymore. I was wondering if I was enough. If I ever could be.

Agora watched me, steady and quiet, and then got up. My heart sped up... not from fear, just... because he was there, close, and suddenly I felt every bit of that. He walked over and sat down next to me, right beside me on the couch. So close, I could feel it. Heat shot through me, immediately. Embarrassing, honestly. This stupid couch felt tiny now, the fire hotter, the whole room smaller. I tried to keep my eyes front, like I could power through, but his arm brushed mine... light, maybe accidental, probably not... and my pulse jumped anyway. Traitor.

He waited for a few more seconds before speaking. “You think strength means being certain.” His voice was softer than I had ever heard it. “It doesn’t.”

I glanced over at him. He stared into the flames, thoughtful, somewhere else. “Every ruler I know is scared.”

That surprised me. “Even you?”

He smirked, but it wasn’t funny. “Especially me.”

I just looked at him, stunned. Agora, afraid? The guy who stared down killers, who couldn’t be rattled by anything? He saw what I was thinking and rolled his eyes. “I am capable of fear.”

“You sure don’t show it.”

He looked sideways at me. I caught a flicker of something real, something a little broken. “I’ve practiced.”

His honesty actually hurt a little. Because suddenly I saw it... strength didn’t mean never being afraid. It meant you kept going anyway.

That thought settled in my chest, deep. The fire cast gold and orange all over the room. We said nothing for a long time.

Finally, I whispered, “What if I fail?”

Agora didn’t hesitate. “You will.”

That stung. “Not very comforting.”

He let a tiny grin show. “You’ll fail sometimes. So will everyone else.” Then he got serious again, his voice almost gentle. “But you’ll keep going.”

Something inside me squeezed, because he sounded so sure. Not just in general... about me. He actually believed I could keep going, even when I didn’t.

The warmth that settled in my chest felt dangerous, new. I looked away, pretending the fire really needed my full attention. Safer that way. Everything about Agora felt like a risk now.

The silence came back, but it wasn’t awkward. Not anymore. It just was.

After a while, his hand found mine. Just casually. Natural, like he didn’t even think about it.

It almost looked like muscle memory, the way his hand found mine. Maybe it was. My fingers curled around his without thinking. The contact... steady, solid... pulled me back to earth. Safe. I hated how much I needed it now. And, honestly, I loved it too.

We sat, just like that, for a long time. The fire snapped and crackled. We didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. There was warmth, and silence, and a kind of understanding bigger than words.

Then Agora’s voice cut through the quiet, soft but sure. “I meant what I said.”

I turned, puzzled. “What?”

He kept his eyes on me and ran his thumb lightly over my knuckles. Heat shot up my arm with that simple touch. He didn’t look away.

“If Wildfire calls for you,” he began, voice so steadily it made my heart pound, “if they ask you to return...”

The room suddenly felt smaller. Breathing got harder. Then he said what I never thought he would: “I’ll follow your decision.”

All I could do was stare. I froze, letting the words sink in, each one heavier than the last. It felt unreal.

“You’re serious,” I managed.

He just raised an eyebrow. “I usually am.”

I let it go; he wasn’t lying. I studied his face, trying to wrap my head around it. This was Agora. The man who never asked... just led. Gave orders, commanded, expected people to follow. And now he was handing the choice to me. Trusting me. It nearly knocked the air out of me.

I had nothing to say. For me, that’s rare.

He saw it and his expression softened a little. “As much as it terrifies me,” he said.

That actually made me laugh. A real laugh... small, but there. I saw his lips twitch. Score one for Agora. He seemed to count making me laugh as a personal victory these days. Annoying man.

But the feeling in the room changed, somehow... grew deeper. Still gentle, like before, but more solid. Real. For the first time since I’d left Wildfire, the weight in my chest loosened. Not gone, not by a long shot, but lighter. Because I wasn’t alone in this anymore, and that counted for everything.

The fire kept burning. The room stayed warm. His hand never left mine. For a moment, everything just… held. Peaceful. Still.

Then three sharp knocks hit the door. Urgent. The spell broke.

Agora went stiff, and so did I. He crossed the room fast and threw the door open. On the other side, one of his guards stood doubled over, breath ragged, face tight with worry. The look told me everything. Bad news.

The guard dipped his head. “Alpha.”

Agora’s face turned hard. “What happened?”

The guard swallowed, then passed him a sealed letter. My stomach dropped. Only one place still used that red wax seal.

Wildfire.

Agora snatched the letter, but the guard lingered. “The messenger collapsed after delivering it,” he said quietly.

Dread pooled in my chest. The last messenger had nearly died. Now this one too? Things were spiraling fast.

Agora broke the seal. His eyes darted over the page. The color slid from his cheeks... just enough to scare me. He gripped the letter tighter, and for a second, the fear between us was thick and choking.

I pushed to my feet, heart slamming. “What is it?”

He said nothing. Just tightened his jaw, hand shaking so slightly I almost missed it. I’d never seen him like that. Not from a letter. Never.

“Agora,” I pressed.

He finally looked at me, and something in his eyes turned my stomach cold. It wasn’t anger. Not frustration. It was sharp, cold alarm.

He spoke, voice hollow.

“The executions started.”