Chapter 92 Dante
I didn’t ask for permission.
The moment Seraphine went limp in my arms, something in me snapped clean into place—sharp, decisive, furious in a way that didn’t burn wild but focused.
“Lucian,” I said, already lifting her fully against my chest. She weighed almost nothing like this—too still, too quiet. My fire flared instinctively, wrapping her in controlled warmth, not enough to wake her, just enough to keep her steady. “Get a car out here. Two. One big enough for everyone.”
Lucian didn’t question it. He was already moving, phone in hand, water still humming low around the room like a living barrier. “On it.”
I turned my head just enough to look at Amara.
“Water. Whatever food you can find. Snacks, protein bars, anything. The women need it now.”
Amara nodded once, sharp and focused despite the fear still clinging to her eyes. “Got it.”
Then I looked at Thane.
I didn’t raise my voice.
I didn’t need to.
“You,” I said, fire rolling low and dangerous along my spine, “are done hiding. You’re done making unilateral decisions. You’re done experimenting on people and calling it necessity.”
Thane straightened, opening his mouth—
“No,” I cut in. “You don’t get to explain right now. You’re bringing this to the table. All of it. Every number. Every death. Every success you’re so proud of. And you’re doing it publicly.”
His jaw clenched. “That will destabilize—”
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “You’ve already destabilized everything. The only difference is now you don’t get to do it alone.”
My grip tightened unconsciously on Seraphine as I looked down at her face—pale, exhausted, stubborn even in sleep.
“And for the record,” I added coldly, “I can’t believe how stupid you were. You don’t save a dying world by burning the people still holding it together.”
Thane didn’t respond.
For once, he had the decency to look chastened.
Lucian was back at my side seconds later. “Two cars,” he said. “On the road. Big ones. But… we’ll have to walk to them.”
I glanced toward the broken entrance, the uneven ground beyond it, the distance stretching out through debris and half-collapsed structure.
Fifteen minutes.
With her in my arms.
And at least one more woman who couldn’t walk.
I didn’t like it.
I didn’t hesitate either.
“I’ll take her,” I said immediately, nodding toward the second woman who’d stayed—still shaky, barely upright. “Lucian, you grab the other two.”
Lucian raised a brow. “You’re sure?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “But I’m doing it anyway.”
Amara shot me a look. “You’re going to overextend yourself.”
“I already did,” I muttered. “What’s one more time?”
We moved fast after that.
Amara distributed water and food, crouching beside the women, murmuring reassurances. Chains were gone now. Fear lingered, but it no longer owned the room.
I adjusted my hold on Seraphine, cradling her close, her head tucked against my shoulder. My fire stayed tight and disciplined, regulating her temperature, steadying her breathing. She let out a faint sound—barely a sigh—and my chest ached at it.
“You’re safe,” I murmured under my breath. “I’ve got you. Just… rest.”
I shifted, then bent to lift the other woman as carefully as I could. She gasped softly, fingers clutching my sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
The walk out was brutal.
The terrain was uneven, the air heavy with lingering smoke and magic residue. Every step sent a fresh wave of strain through my back and legs.
My fire wanted to surge—to burn away fatigue, to force strength where my body was starting to protest—but I kept it leashed.
Not wild.
Not now.
Lucian was ahead of me, carrying the other two women with grim determination, water sloshing around his boots as he stabilized the ground where it crumbled.
Amara walked beside him, constantly glancing back at me, worry etched deep into her face.
“You okay?” she called.
“Fine,” I lied through clenched teeth.
By the ten-minute mark, sweat was pouring down my spine. My arms trembled despite every instinct screaming at me to hold tighter, be stronger, don’t falter.
By the time the cars came into view—dark silhouettes waiting at the edge of the road—my vision was starting to blur at the edges.
Fifteen minutes.
Only fifteen.
Lucian stumbled slightly as he reached the first car, water splashing wildly before he caught himself. He leaned hard against the door for a second, chest heaving.
“You look like hell,” he muttered.
“Back at you,” I shot back weakly.
We didn’t stop moving.
Doors were thrown open. Seats cleared. Hands reached out to help.
I eased Seraphine down first, carefully, reluctantly, only letting go once I was sure she was supported. My fire lingered on her skin like a promise before I pulled it back.
The second woman was settled beside her, blanket wrapped tight, water pressed into shaking hands.
When I finally straightened, pain slammed into me all at once—my muscles screaming, lungs burning, sweat dripping off my chin.
I didn’t care.
I looked back at the structure one last time.
At Thane, standing in the doorway, watching everything he’d tried to control walk away without him.
“This isn’t over,” I said quietly.
His gaze met mine. “I know.”
I turned my back on him.
As the doors slammed shut and engines roared to life, I rested a hand against the car, breathing hard, fire ebbing slowly as the adrenaline faded.
The moment the doors shut and the women were secured, I leaned forward and caught the driver’s eye through the divider.
“Penthouse,” I said. “My address. Now.”
He nodded once, no questions, and pulled us onto the road.
The building fell away behind us, swallowed by distance and smoke and everything I was done tolerating.
For a few seconds, all I could hear was the hum of the engine and the uneven rhythm of my own breathing. My hands were still shaking—not from exhaustion anymore, but from something colder. Sharper.
I looked across the narrow space at Lucian.
He was sitting stiffly, one arm braced along the seat, water energy still faintly rolling off him like he hadn’t fully powered down yet. His jaw was tight, eyes forward, expression carved from restraint.
I didn’t soften it. I didn’t dress it up.
“I’m going to kill Thane,” I said calmly. Not loud. Not angry. Certain.
Lucian didn’t look at me right away.
The car hit a bump, tires thudding over uneven pavement, and only then did he turn his head.
“I know,” he said.