Chapter 24 Alone, With Him
Serafina
“Fate?” I scoffed. “So you’re saying it was fate that made my brother sick?”
“Yes,” he said calmly. “Your desperation is what led you to me.”
I shot him a hurt look. He hesitated, meeting my gaze. “That’s not what I meant,” he added quickly.
“Yes, it is,” I muttered. “And how can any of this be fate? You’re ancient. I’m—” I hesitated, hating that my voice faltered. “You do know how old I am, right?”
“You turned eighteen,” he said, unbothered. “A few days ago.”
I nodded, my stomach tightening. He knew everything about me.
Curse that blood ritual.
“And how,” he asked, curiosity threading his voice, “did you celebrate your birthday?”
“My birthday? Nothing special. Same as always—scavenging, working, trying to keep Lio alive,” I said honestly. “A friend of mine gave me a pouch of coins, but the Collectors snatched it before I could even breathe.”
“Collectors?”
“The Dust Warden’s loyal hounds,” I explained. “They take taxes from us Dust-class every day. Torment us if we can’t pay. Since Lio was sick, I had to cover for both of us—or he’d have been sent to the Dusty Hills to die.”
Azerath’s jaw tightened, and a faint shimmer ran along his forearms, scales bristling. “How could one of your blood be… so…?”
"Poor?" I swallowed, feeling the memory settle heavy in my chest. “My parents were branded traitors. Executed. Lio and I—stripped of everything, labeled Dust-class, left to rot. I was seven, Lio barely four. I’ve been clawing my way through survival ever since.”
Azerath’s golden eyes ignited, fury breaking through his stillness like fire through stone. “Your parents. Your birthright. They should have been protected. I forged a pact with the Emperor long ago to shield the bloodline of Valyn. I surrendered centuries to hibernation to uphold that vow. And in my silence, they drove a blade to my back."
I flinched beneath the weight of his gaze. “My parents are gone,” I said quietly. “There’s nothing left to undo.”
A low rumble rolled through him, deep and dangerous, as though the earth itself answered his wrath. “Those who betrayed your blood will bow to you one day. Whether they wish to or not.”
I let out a soft, humorless breath. “That kind of fury will carry you to an early grave. Mark my words.”
His gaze dropped to mine, no longer blazing, but far more unsettling for its restraint. “And you,” he asked, voice low and forbidding, “why are you not angry?”
I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag. “Because anger is a luxury,” I said. “I had to survive. I had to keep my brother alive. I couldn’t afford rage, or grief, or dreams of justice. Those things kill faster than hunger ever does.”
The forest had grown darker, the underbrush alive with rustling creatures. Blink’s ears flicked constantly, alert to every sound, guarding our path.
As I pressed forward, I realized the absurdity of it all. I was following a wolf that could shrink to the size of a beetle, walking beside a dragon in human form, through the haunted heart of a forest that seemed to shift with every step.
This was no mere journey—it was an adventure woven from the impossible.
If only my brother weren’t in danger.
I froze as Blink’s growl tore through the quiet—low, savage, a warning I couldn’t ignore. Her hackles rose, and her gaze locked on the treetops.
Azerath reacted instantly.
He pinched the lantern’s flame dead between his fingers, plunging us into darkness. The air seemed to hold its breath.
“There are eyes watching from above,” he murmured—so close I could feel his warm breath fanning my cheek.
His hand pressed between my shoulders, guiding me into the brush. He crouched beside me, a solid wall of presence at my side, before turning to Blink.
“Now.”
Blink sprang.
Mid-leap, reality shuddered—wolf folding into falcon in a blink of black wings. An arrow shrieked through the space she’d occupied a heartbeat earlier, burying itself in the soil.
“They aren’t Imperial Enforcers,” Azerath said, lifting the bow from the ground. His expression was unreadable.
“Rebels,” I whispered. “I met some before I entered the Cursed Forest.”
His eyes didn’t move from mine. “If they were rebels, they’d be hunting Enforcers. Not stalking you.” His jaw tightened. “Stay here. I will shift. I will end this.”
I caught his arm.
Warmth pulsed beneath my fingers—alive, and steady beneath my touch.
“No,” I said. “If you burn the forest, the Empire will know exactly where we are.”
His gaze dropped to where I touched him. Flames flickered in his eyes, bright enough to rival the stars—then wavered. I glimpsed the faintest tug of a smile at the corner of his lips.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
Slowly, I let go, my cheeks burning hotter than his fire. I told myself it was the darkness that made my breath come shallow.
He straightened, exhaling sharply. “Then I will burn every Enforcer they send. Then the city that breeds them.” His voice was soft—and far more terrifying for it. “I will make the message unmistakable. No one harms you while I live.”
The way he said you sent a shiver through me.
Azerath… that’s not protection. That’s war, I thought.
A scream ripped through the canopy.
A body slammed into the ground, the sound ugly and final. I barely had time to gasp before another followed—and another.
Men dropped from the trees like broken marionettes, hitting the forest floor with hollow, echoing thuds.
It was literally raining men.
When the last thud faded, Azerath rose and nudged each body with his boot.
Not one stirred.
A howl cut through the forest.
Another answered—closer.
Azerath’s mouth curved, pleased. “Blink is efficient. But now we’ve lost the chance to question them.” His eyes narrowed. “These men are wearing rebellion like a disguise.” He turned back to me. “Come, Serafina.” A pause—intentional. “Blink’s pack will arrive soon. They will want to eat in peace.”
“Eat?” I echoed, standing. “You mean—”
He relit the lantern with a breath, flame spilling into the dark. “Why do you think the Cursed Forest remains uncrossed? The wolves here are numerous. Untamed.”
Wings beat once. Then Blink padded to my side in wolf form, brushing past my leg. She paused, licking my hand as if to say all was clear, before moving ahead.
I followed, aware of Azerath behind me, his gaze never leaving my back. Hours passed as we moved deeper into the forest; the trees thickened, the sun sank lower, and shadows stretched around us. My legs ached, each step heavier than the last, and a deep weariness settled over me.
Only then did I realize my hands were shaking.
Not from fear—not exactly. The danger had passed. Hunger and exhaustion weighed on me, my heart refusing to slow, and his presence pressed too close.
“You’re trembling,” Azerath said quietly, his voice softer than before, almost… apologetic.
“I’m not,” I replied at once, forcing my voice steady.
His gaze lingered—not accusing, not gentle. Acknowledging. “Your body disagrees. I… should have considered you’re human.”
I curled my fingers into my palms, willing them still. He noticed. I felt the tiniest flicker of something in his tone, a hint of regret that made my chest tighten. “I’m fine,” I said.
“Of course you are,” he said, almost amused, though the edge of regret lingered. Then, lower: “But even strength has limits. I forgot that for a moment.”
I bristled. “I’m fine. I really am.”
“I’m not diminishing you,” he said, meeting my eyes. “I’m simply noticing—and I didn’t account for what it takes to be beside me.”
That unsettled me more than the shaking.
“You’re hungry,” he continued. “And exhausted.” A pause. “And standing beside something your instincts don’t yet understand.”
My breath caught before I could stop it, and I realized I was suddenly very aware of the careful way he moved, the faint tilt of his shoulders as if trying not to overwhelm me.
“You are safe, Serafina,” Azerath said. Not a boast. A statement of fact. “With me.”
Azerath led me to a clearing and lifted his hand. Light unfurled across it at his gesture, soft but resolute.
I blinked. The glow solidified into a small hut. Simple, neat—just a little better than the shacks in Dust District.
“We will stay here tonight.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust my voice.
The forest seemed to soften around us, the quiet no longer threatening but intimate.
Alone... with him.
The thought stirred something unfamiliar in my chest—nervous, tender, unguarded. A foolish question drifted in, uninvited.
Will he want to consummate the marriage?
My heart began to race. Heat flared in my cheeks, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. The thought was absurd, terrifying—and yet impossible to ignore.
I had to put some distance between us.
I rushed to the hut, yanking the door open. I stepped inside—and froze, struck by the sight before me.
Inside was a palace. Marble floors stretched beneath my feet, softened by plush rugs. Tables groaned under fruit, bread, meat—so much I didn’t even know where to begin.
I turned to Azerath, hands pressed to my chest. “This… this is too much.”
He watched me, amused, the faintest curve of a smile on his lips. “Nothing less for my wife.”