Chapter 23 THE CALL OF THE BLOOD
"I'm going to kill her."
Dorian’s voice wasn’t human; it was a gravelly, dark growl rising from a deep well. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from that damn screen. Vespera’s triumphant smirk and Kael… God, Kael’s bloody, motionless body lying there like discarded trash.
The air in the room shifted instantly. It was as if someone had sucked out all the oxygen and replaced it with pure gunpowder. The seal on Dorian’s chest wasn't just glowing anymore; it was crackling. The fabric of his shirt had begun to singe and blacken from the heat radiating off the mark. The veins in his neck bulged, turning pitch black like a poisoned riverbed.
Serra felt the danger in her marrow. The issue wasn't Vespera outside. The real bomb was right here. Dorian was a walking nuclear reactor, and if he stepped outside in this state, the seal wouldn't just break; it would detonate. That explosion would wipe out Vespera, Kael, and likely half the palace off the map.
"Dorian!" Serra lunged at him. She slammed her body against his rigid frame. She framed his face with her hands, forcing his head away from the screen. "Look at me! Don't look there, dammit, look at me!"
Dorian’s eyes… There was no one there. His irises were gone, replaced by a pitch-black void. He was drowning in the curse.
"Kael..." he groaned, his voice trembling. "He is my blood... She spilled my blood, that bitch..."
"And I am your breath!" Serra shouted, shaking him hard. She dug her nails into his cheeks, using the pain to drag him back to the here and now. "Listen to me! If you lose control now, you will kill Kael, not Vespera! Do you understand? You have to finish what she started! Come back to me!"
Dorian’s trembling hands blindly found Serra’s waist. He latched on. His grip was so bruising Serra thought her ribs might crack, but she didn't make a sound. This pain was good. It was proof Dorian was still in there, fighting. He pulled her flush against him, resting his forehead against hers. His body vibrated violently against her own Red Alpha blood.
"I can't do it..." Dorian’s whisper cut through the chaos of the room like a knife. The invincible Alpha, the Iron Warden... was cracking open for the first time. "I almost killed you in the tunnel. Now Kael... I destroy everything I touch. The curse... it just wants to burn."
Serra wove her fingers into his hair, matted with sweat and tunnel dust. She wasn't soothing him; she was claiming him.
"You are not destruction," Serra said fiercely. Her lips were a breath away from his, inhaling the scent of burnt ozone radiating from him. "You are the man who has held this kingdom together for seven years against monsters. You are the shield. And right now..."
Serra pressed her hand over his heart, directly over the frantically beating cursed seal. Her palm burned, but she didn't pull away.
"...right now, you are with me. I am not afraid of your ruin, Dorian. If it brings you back, I am ready to burn in your fire. Burn me."
Those words were the key. The pitch-black darkness in Dorian’s eyes rippled and receded. It was replaced by that familiar, deep lava red. But the rage was gone. Replaced by something equally dangerous: Hunger.
The adrenaline of near-death had morphed into a will to live. A pure, primal, savage desire.
"Serra..." Dorian groaned. He said her name not like a prayer, but like a dying man finding water in the desert.
Before she could process it, Dorian lifted her by the waist in a sudden, fluid motion. Serra’s back hit the edge of the heavy hologram table in the center of the room. Digital maps scattered with a static hiss. Dorian stepped between her legs, pressing his hips against hers. He wanted friction. He wanted reality. This wasn't a strategy; this was a desperate act to feel alive before facing death.
When their lips met, it wasn't a kiss. It was a collision.
It tasted of blood, sweat, dust, and salt tears. Dorian kissed Serra as if she were the last breath of air in a drowning world, devouring her mouth. Serra didn't back down. She responded with equal ferocity, wrapping her arms around his neck, digging her nails into his shoulders, anchoring him to the present.
The kiss deepened, turning into a battle for dominance. Dorian’s tongue invaded her mouth, hot and demanding. Serra met every stroke, her own inner Red Alpha roaring in response to this intensity. The seal on his chest flared, but this time not with burning heat; it glowed with a warm, golden light that seeped into Serra’s skin, binding them.
At the other end of the table, Lukas, whose keyboard was dangerously close to where Dorian had just slammed Serra, yanked his hands back as if burned.
His eyes went wide. For a second, he stared at them as if he were seeing aliens. Then, he violently spun his chair around to face the wall of monitors.
"For the love of God..." Lukas muttered, running a shaking hand through his hair. "We are literally about to die, and they are doing... this? On the tactical map?"
Lukas shook his head, checking the data feeds but refusing to look behind him.
"Is this a joke? What the actual hell?"
Valeria didn't turn away immediately. She watched them for a second; her eyes held a grim, knowing, sad expression. Then she turned back to her console. "Let them have it, Lukas," she said sharply. "It might be their last breath. Don't interfere."
But for Dorian and Serra, the room was empty. No Lukas, no war, no Vespera. Just the heat of their bodies and the beat of their hearts.
Dorian trailed his lips down to her jaw, then to her neck. He found the pulse beating wildly there. He bit down gently; hard enough to soothe the wolf, but controlled enough not to break skin.
"Promise me," he whispered against her sensitive skin. His voice was hoarse, cracking with emotion. "When this night ends... if we survive this hell... we end the role. No more fake engagement. No more lies."
Serra gasped for air, throwing her head back, her hands clutching his torn shirt. "End the role and do what?"
Dorian pulled back. His chest heaved like a bellows. His eyes pierced through the very bottom of Serra’s soul.
"We live the truth," he vowed. "Because I don't think I can breathe without you anymore. I don't want a Luna, Serra. I want you."
It was stronger than a marriage proposal. It was the confession that the mask had shattered and the man beneath belonged completely, desperately, to her.