Chapter 117 Seraphine
Dinner was… a choice.
A long table. Too much food. Too many people who had survived the kind of trauma that made small talk feel like an insult.
Someone, Lucian, obviously, had lit candles. Soft lighting. Neutral music. The kind of atmosphere meant to say normal evening even though nothing about us was normal.
Plates clinked.
Forks scraped.
No one mentioned extinction. Or councils. Or blood laws. Or the fact that half the women at the table had woken dragons inside them less than forty-eight hours ago.
We talked about safe things.
The food.
How spicy was too spicy.
Whether the wine tasted like berries or regret.
Amara made a joke about Lucian stealing her dessert. Lucian pretended to be offended. One of the water dragonborn laughed too loudly and then apologized for laughing too loudly.
Progress, I guess.
I cleared my throat gently and stood.
“Okay,” I said, forcing warmth into my voice. “Before this gets any more painfully awkward… Valin. You already met Elowen earlier, but I’d like to officially reintroduce you.”
Elowen looked up, smoothing her purple dress nervously. Valin nodded to her, stiff and polite, like he was afraid sudden movement might cause a storm.
“And this,” I continued, gesturing to the woman beside her, “is Viviane. She’s also stormborn.”
Viviane gave a small, composed smile. The kind that said I am calm and absolutely not calm at all.
Valin froze.
Actually froze.
Lightning flickered faintly at his fingertips before vanishing as he clenched his hands beneath the table.
“Oh,” he said. “I—ah. Excuse me. I just—restroom.”
He stood so fast his chair nearly toppled.
The table watched him flee.
I sighed.
“Yep,” I muttered. “That tracks.”
I followed immediately.
Dante was on my back before I even made it to the hallway.
We found Valin pacing the bathroom like a trapped animal, hands in his hair, breathing shallow and uneven.
He looked up when we entered, eyes wild.
“I can’t do this,” he blurted.
I closed the door behind us gently. “Hi to you too.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I’ve never had a consort. Never taken a mate. I don’t—” He gestured helplessly. “What am I supposed to say to them? What if I offend them? What if they expect something I can’t give? What if—”
“What if you accidentally summon a thunderhead in the dining room?” I offered.
He gave a strangled laugh. “Exactly.”
I leaned against the counter. “Okay. Breathe. You’re not being asked to propose marriage over appetizers.”
“That’s not helping.”
“Fair.”
I glanced at Dante. “Thoughts?”
He grimaced. “I am… not the right dragon for this conversation.”
Valin stared at him. “You’re mated to a High Priestess.”
“Yes,” Dante said carefully. “But I only stepped into the role of Fire King recently. I’m still learning. Lucian has been showing me the ropes.”
“That tracks,” Valin muttered.
“And,” Dante added honestly, “my advice would probably be ‘be sincere and don’t lie.’ Which is apparently insufficient.”
Valin groaned and leaned back against the wall. “I’ve ruled storms for centuries. I can break armies. I can bend weather. But this?” He gestured vaguely toward the dining room. “This terrifies me.”
I felt it then.
That tug. That awareness.
My dragon stirred, alert.
Help, I asked inwardly. Please. Because I have no idea what I’m doing either.
She responded without hesitation.
Storm does not need domination. It needs steadiness.
I straightened.
“Okay,” I said slowly, repeating her words out loud. “Here’s the thing. You don’t need to impress them. You don’t need to decide anything tonight. Storm doesn’t need force—it needs stability.”
Valin blinked. “That’s… oddly specific.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I get that a lot.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “They’re not looking for a king right now. They’re looking for safety. Respect. Time.”
Dante nodded. “Sit with them. Listen. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“And don’t assume they want anything from you,” I added. “They’ve had enough of people deciding things for them.”
Valin swallowed. “What if I say the wrong thing?”
“Then you apologize,” I said simply. “And try again.”
Silence settled.
Then Valin let out a long breath, shoulders sagging as the tension finally cracked.
“I’ve faced execution without blinking,” he said quietly. “But this feels like stepping into lightning barefoot.”
I smiled softly. “Welcome to growth.”
A reluctant laugh escaped him.
“Come on,” I said, opening the door. “They’re probably assuming you fled the country.”
As we walked back, Dante leaned down and murmured, “You handled that well.”
I snorted. “Ask me again when I’m not internally screaming.”
My dragon hummed, amused and approving.
Dinner resumed in fits and starts.
When Valin finally returned, he didn’t bolt this time. He paused at the doorway like he was bracing himself for impact, then squared his shoulders and took his seat again. Elowen offered him a small, encouraging smile. Viviane lifted her glass in a quiet, wordless toast.
The knock came quietly.
Too quietly.
Every head at the table turned.
Lucian froze mid-sip. Dante’s posture shifted instantly, fire tightening under his skin. Amara’s hand dropped to the table, fingers splayed like she was ready to move.
I didn’t need to ask.
I already knew.
“I’ll get it,” I said, pushing back from my chair.
My dragon stirred, alert but not alarmed.
Shadow approaches, she murmured. Cautious. Wounded.
That tracked.
I opened the door.
Kael stood in the hallway, hands empty and deliberately visible, shadows pulled in tight around him like leashed animals. He looked… thinner. Not physically, but in that way grief hollows someone out from the inside.
His gaze lifted to mine.
“You’re alive,” he said softly.
I nodded. “You’re late.”
A flicker of something like shame crossed his face. “I didn’t want to arrive like a threat.”
Behind me, Lucian snorted. “Points for self-awareness.”
Kael stepped inside slowly. The women at the table stiffened, tension rippling through them like a held breath. One of the shadow dragonborn shrank back instinctively.
Kael noticed.
He stopped immediately.
“I won’t touch anyone,” he said, voice steady but strained. “I swear it. I’m here to listen. To answer.”
I studied him for a long moment, then stepped aside. “Then come eat. No one makes good decisions hungry.”
That earned a surprised blink.
Dante moved a chair back with his foot. “Sit.”
Kael hesitated, then obeyed.
Lucian gestured at the food. “Pad thai. It’s not poisoned. Don’t ask.”
Kael huffed a weak laugh and took a plate.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then one of the women asked, blunt and brave, “Are you the one who owned her shadows?”
Kael flinched.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I didn’t understand the cost at the time. I do now.”
Silence.
Viviane tilted her head. “Did you love her?”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “I thought I did.”
I felt my dragon stir, not angry—sad.
“And now?” Elowen asked softly.
Kael swallowed. “Now I know I used her.”
That answer landed.
One of the water dragonborn nodded slowly. “Thank you for saying that.”