Chapter 155 Dante
The moment the last of Fire territory stepped through the glowing archway, the Between began to fold in on itself.
Not violently.
Not with spectacle.
It simply… dimmed.
The haunting music faded into silence, the endless hall of marble and color dissolving like mist pulled apart by the wind. The glowing edges of the realm tightened until only the portal remained, thin, bright, and humming with the last of Seraphine’s magic.
I kept one arm firmly around her waist as we stepped through.
The moment my boots hit solid flooring again, the scent of the penthouse, wood, stone, city air drifting through the window, replaced the strange electric scent of the Between.
Lucian’s penthouse.
Or… what had become our temporary command center.
We really needed to fix that soon.
The portal behind us flickered.
Seraphine stiffened in my arms.
For half a second, she was still in her dragon form, horns rising from her temples, black fire licking along the elegant red gown her dragon had created.
Then it collapsed.
Her horns vanished.
The fire died.
Her body shrank back to its human size so suddenly I had to tighten my grip to keep her from slipping.
And then she went completely limp.
“She’s out,” I muttered, catching her weight against my chest before she could hit the floor.
Amara gasped. “What—what happened?!”
Lucian was already moving, panic flashing across his normally calm face. “Seraphine—”
“Relax,” I said firmly.
Both of them froze.
“She’s fine.”
Lucian didn’t look convinced.
“She just collapsed.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly, adjusting Seraphine carefully in my arms. “That tends to happen when someone holds open an entire pocket realm for several hundred supernatural beings.”
Amara blinked. “Wait—what?”
“Her dragon warned me this would happen,” I said. “She burned through most of her energy running the trials and maintaining the Between.”
Lucian ran a hand through his hair, tension still tight in his shoulders. “So she’s—”
“Resting,” I finished. “Not dying.”
Amara visibly exhaled, shoulders dropping in relief.
Lucian looked like he wanted to argue, but the fact that Seraphine was breathing evenly in my arms seemed to calm him enough to keep quiet.
“Let her sleep,” I said.
Neither of them tried to stop me when I turned and carried her down the hallway.
My bedroom door pushed open easily with my shoulder.
I crossed the room and lowered her gently onto the bed, turning her carefully onto her side the way her dragon had told me to earlier. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her breathing slow and steady.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Watching.
The High Priestess who had just commanded five territories…
Now looked like she could sleep for three days straight.
I pulled the blanket up over her shoulder.
“Rest,” I murmured quietly.
My dragon shifted in my chest.
She earned it.
I turned the lights down and stepped back into the hallway.
Lucian and Amara were waiting near the kitchen, both of them looking far too wired for this time of night.
“She good?” Lucian asked.
“Yeah.”
Amara folded her arms. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
Lucian sighed heavily and leaned against the counter. “Well that was the most stressful party I’ve ever hosted.”
“You’re welcome,” I muttered.
He snorted.
The quiet lasted exactly five minutes.
The quiet lasted exactly five minutes.
Then—
BANG.
The sound slammed through the penthouse like someone had taken a battering ram to the front door.
Amara jumped. Lucian straightened instantly, the relaxed posture he’d finally managed to find evaporating in a second.
“What the hell was that?” Lucian muttered.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Yeah. That wasn’t knocking.
That was someone trying to wake the dead.
Or start a fight.
I walked over to the wall panel and tapped the security feed. The camera flickered on, the front hallway appearing on the screen.
And I froze.
“Well,” I muttered under my breath.
Lucian leaned over my shoulder. “What?”
I tilted the screen so he could see.
The man standing outside the door looked so much like Seraphine it was almost unsettling.
Same sharp cheekbones.
Same stubborn jaw.
Same stormy green eyes.
But where Seraphine’s hair fell dark and long down her back, his was cut short, bright red and messy like he’d run his hands through it one too many times tonight. A scruffy beard covered half his jaw, making him look older, rougher. Broader too, built like someone used to throwing people against walls for a living.
Which… he had been.
Stephen.
Seraphine’s brother.
And he looked furious.
His arms were crossed over his chest like he was physically restraining himself from breaking the door down, but the tension in his shoulders said that restraint wasn’t going to last forever.
Amara leaned closer to the screen.
“Oh… shit,” she whispered.
Lucian blinked once. “Is that—”
“Yeah,” I said.
Stephen.
Former police officer.
Former being the important word.
Until the public found out he was a dirty cop.
That whole mess had blown up spectacularly, internal investigations, suspension, media crawling all over it. Both him and his partner, Rio, had been put on leave until further notice.
And judging by the look on his face—
Things hadn’t gotten better.
Stephen stepped forward and slammed his fist against the door again.
BANG.
Lucian winced. “Your girl’s brother has anger issues.”
“No kidding.”
I studied the screen again.
Stephen wasn’t just angry.
He was hunting.
His eyes kept darting around the hallway, jaw tight, breathing hard like he’d driven here fast and hadn’t calmed down since.
“Why the hell is he here?” Amara asked quietly.
Good question.
Because Stephen didn’t like me.
Didn’t trust me.
And after everything that had happened with Seraphine—
He had even more reason not to.
Another hard knock rattled the door.
BANG. BANG.
Lucian sighed and rubbed his face. “If he wakes the neighbors I’m sending him the HOA fines.”
I didn’t answer.
I was still watching Stephen.
Because that wasn’t just anger on his face.
That was fear.
Which means two things, either something very bad has happened or something very bad will happen.