Chapter 74 Seraphine
The chains bit into my wrists as Renee yanked me forward.
Not dragged—hauled.
Metal screamed against concrete as I stumbled, bare feet skidding, shoulder slamming into the doorframe as she ripped me out of the room. Behind me, voices rose in panic.
“Stop—!”
“Don’t take her—!”
Hands reached for me. Fingers brushed my arm. Someone tried to grab the chain itself, but the restraints snapped tight, jerking me forward again. The women were chained too. They couldn’t do a damn thing except scream my name as the door slammed shut behind us.
The sound echoed.
Final.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt. I twisted, trying to look back, to say something—anything—but Renee didn’t slow. She didn’t look at me. She moved like this was routine.
Like I was cargo.
We hadn’t even made it ten steps down the corridor when voices echoed ahead of us.
Boots.
Fast. Urgent.
Thane emerged from the shadows, his presence hitting me like a pressure change. And he wasn’t alone.
There was a man with him—human. Mid-forties, maybe. Sharp eyes. Tactical jacket. He held an iPad like it was a weapon.
“We need to leave,” the man said immediately. No preamble. No explanation. “Now.”
Renee scoffed, tugging me to a stop so hard my shoulder wrenched. “Relax. No one’s coming. This place is off-grid. Forgotten.”
The man didn’t even look at her.
He turned the screen toward Thane.
Blue streaks burned across the map.
Not metaphorical.
Fire.
My breath hitched.
Blue fire.
Dante.
Thane’s expression darkened instantly. “He’s close.”
Renee’s confidence faltered—just a hair. “That’s impossible.”
“He burned through three square kilometers of forest,” the man said flatly. “And he’s not slowing.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“He lost control,” Thane muttered. “That only happens when he’s desperate.”
Renee cursed under her breath.
“We move the priority assets,” Thane said sharply. “Now. Take the ones who will definitely shift. Leave the sick and wounded.”
My stomach dropped.
Leave them?
Renee hesitated. “We can come back for them.”
“If they’re still here,” Thane snapped. “Every second we stay increases the chance we’re found.”
The man nodded. “He’s not hunting randomly. He’s tracking.”
Renee swore again, louder this time. “Fine. Fire, storm, shadow—” her gaze flicked to me “—and now we just need water and death.”
The words hit me wrong.
Too calculated.
Too practiced.
I didn’t mean to speak.
It just came out.
“Why didn’t you take the water dragonborn at my apartment?”
Everything stopped.
Renee turned slowly. “What water dragonborn?”
I blinked. Once. Twice. “The other girl. She was there when you took me. She’s—” my throat tightened “—she’s Lucian’s mate.”
Silence.
Thane’s head snapped toward Renee. “What did she just say?”
Renee frowned, genuinely confused. “There was no dragonborn there. Just a human.”
“No,” Thane said coldly. “If Lucian has claimed her, she is not human.”
The man swore softly.
Thane looked back at me. “The woman from the meeting?”
I nodded.
His jaw clenched. “That’s why she slipped past us. She was already marked.”
My chest twisted painfully.
Marked.
I looked away, shame and regret burning through me all at once.
If I had let Dante mark me—
No.
Don’t do that.
Renee waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. We already have candidates lined up. One for water. One for death.”
She gestured down the corridor. “Load them. Now.”
My stomach sank further as she dragged me forward again.
The woman who’d been beside me in the room—the one who always felt cold—was pulled next. Her breath came in short gasps, eyes wide but focused. Death-aligned.
Then the other woman—the one who’d mentioned the pet store—was yanked from the line. Water-aligned. She looked terrified, but determined.
Two more women were added—storm and shadow.
Five of us.
That was it.
The rest were left behind.
Their voices followed us down the corridor. Pleading. Crying. Screaming names.
I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms, forcing myself not to look back.
I will come back for you, I swore silently. Somehow. I don’t know how—but I will.
The exit doors burst open, daylight blinding after the dark.
Vans.
Black. Unmarked.
Engines running.
They shoved us inside one together, chains clanking as we stumbled and collided. I hit the bench hard, knocking the breath from my lungs. The door slammed shut behind us.
Renee climbed into the driver’s seat.
The human took the front passenger seat, already barking coordinates into a headset.
Thane crawled into the back with us, his presence filling the van like a storm cloud.
The engine roared to life.
As the van lurched forward, I caught a glimpse through the rear window—
Smoke rising.
Blue-tinted, even from a distance.
Dante.
He was coming.
Hold on, I told myself.
Hold on.
The van jolted as it pulled away.
Metal rattled. Chains clinked softly with every bump in the road. Someone near me was whispering prayers under her breath; another sat rigid, jaw locked, staring straight ahead like she could will the world not to exist.
Thane shifted.
I felt it before I saw it—the subtle change in pressure, like the air itself leaned toward him. He moved closer, boots scraping against the van floor, until he was directly in front of me.
Too close.
He crouched, bringing himself level with my face.
Then—gently, almost reverently—he lifted his hand and brushed his thumb along my cheek.
The touch wasn’t rough.
That was the worst part.
“Perfect,” he murmured, like the word meant something holy. “You are exactly what we hoped for.”
Heat surged instinctively in my chest, my dragon reacting on reflex, flaring in protest—
And then it was gone.
Not extinguished.
Pulled.
Like something had reached inside me and tugged the warmth downward, away from the surface, dragging it into a place where fire couldn’t survive.
Darkness swallowed it.
Not shadow—this was different.
Cold.
Absolute.
Still.
The kind of emptiness that wasn’t chaotic or violent, but final. A quiet so complete it pressed against my ears until I couldn’t tell if I was breathing.
My breath hitched.
Thane leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing mine, his eyes dark and intent. “You feel it, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, throat burning. “What… what are you?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
He smiled—not cruelly, not kindly.
Knowingly.
“Death,” he said simply.