Chapter 156 Dante
Lucian rubbed his face slowly. “If he cracks the door frame, I’m billing him.”
Amara was already hovering halfway between the couch and the kitchen, looking nervous. “Maybe you should just answer it before he brings the whole floor down.”
I pulled up the camera feed again and sighed.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “That’s probably a good idea.”
I unlocked the door and opened it just before the next hit landed. Stephen had his fist raised mid-swing and nearly stumbled forward when the door gave way instead of resisting.
Up close, he looked like hell.
His short red hair was a mess like he’d been dragging his hands through it all night. His beard was scruffier than usual, jaw tight, eyes wild in that specific way people get when adrenaline hasn’t left their system yet. His shirt was half untucked, one sleeve ripped, and there was a smear of dried blood along the side of his neck.
He froze when he saw me.
Then he shoved past me like I was just part of the doorframe.
“Where is she?” he barked immediately, scanning the room.
“Sleeping,” I answered calmly as I shut the door behind him.
Stephen stopped pacing long enough to glare at me. “Good. Keep it that way for a minute.”
Lucian leaned casually against the counter, watching him with mild curiosity. “You always enter people’s homes like a SWAT raid or is this a special occasion?”
Stephen ignored him completely and ran both hands over his face like he was trying to wipe the last ten minutes off his brain.
Amara stepped closer. “Stephen… what happened?”
Stephen dropped his hands and stared at all three of us like we were the last people on earth he wanted to explain anything to.
“You ever have a guy grow horns in front of you?” he asked flatly.
Lucian blinked.
“What?”
Stephen pointed directly at me. “Because if this is some kind of cult thing she got dragged into, I swear to God—”
“Stephen,” Amara said gently, “maybe start at the beginning.”
Stephen inhaled deeply through his nose like he was trying not to lose his temper. Then he started pacing again.
“Fine. I just got back to my building,” he said. “Takeout in one hand, keys in the other, minding my own damn business because apparently being a suspended cop already makes my life complicated enough. I’m halfway up the steps when this guy steps out of the shadows like he’s been waiting for me.”
My stomach tightened.
“What guy?” I asked.
Stephen let out a harsh laugh. “Tall. Pale. Looks like he hasn’t seen sunlight since the Renaissance.”
Lucian and I shared a look.
Stephen kept talking. “He says he’s got a message for my sister.”
Amara stiffened slightly.
“What message?” she asked quietly.
Stephen stopped pacing.
His jaw tightened.
“He said,” Stephen repeated slowly, “to tell Seraphine that her little rebellion is temporary.”
Lucian’s expression darkened.
Stephen continued, voice bitter. “He said things were built the right way before she showed up. Said when he rewrites the blood laws everything will go back to normal. Women won’t have power anymore.”
The room went very still.
Stephen gestured angrily as he repeated the words. “He said women will exist to reproduce… and to feed. Like livestock.”
Lucian’s water surged violently around his wrists.
Stephen shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it. “Then he starts talking about dragons needing livestock and I’m thinking this guy’s either insane or in a very committed cosplay community.” He sighed, "And then there's Carol."
Lucian snorted quietly.
Stephen shot him a look. “Yes, Carol. My wife.” He paused. “Technically still my wife,” he corrected. “Divorce papers hadn’t finalized yet.”
Dante crossed his arms slowly. “You mean the one who called Seraphine ‘the oversized mistake’ at Thanksgiving?”
Stephen grimaced. “Yeah. That one.”
“Charming woman.”
Stephen waved a hand dismissively. “Look, I’m not going to pretend losing Carol is some great tragedy. She was a bitch, we were divorcing anyway, and honestly she insulted my sister every chance she got for being plus size which, by the way, was a stupid hill to die on because Seraphine is objectively gorgeous.”
Amara blinked.
Lucian leaned toward me. “I like him.”
Stephen pointed a finger. “But that’s not the point.” He leaned forward, eyes intense. “The point is this guy grew fucking horns.” He tapped the side of his head aggressively. “Right out of his skull.”
Lucian tilted his head curiously. “And that’s where you drew the line?”
Stephen glared. “Yes.”
“What about the dragons speech?”
“I assumed he was insane.”
Lucian shrugged. “Reasonable.”
Stephen continued, voice rising again. “Carol tells him to screw off, because of course she does, and the guy just… smiles. Like he’s amused.” The humor drained from the room. “And then his horns grow,” Stephen said quietly. He mimed the motion with his hands. “Slow. Right out of his damn head.”
Amara swallowed.
“And then he leaned forward,” Stephen continued, “and ran those horns straight through her chest like she was a damn shish kebab.”
Lucian winced slightly.
Stephen rubbed his face again. “She died in about three seconds.”
Lucian shrugged lightly. “Honestly, losing Carol might improve family holidays.”
Stephen threw his hands up. “I don’t care that she’s dead! Good riddance! We were halfway through divorce paperwork anyway!” He pointed wildly at all of us. “I care that a man just grew horns and murdered someone in front of me!”
Silence.
Then Lucian nodded thoughtfully. “Fair point.”
Stephen exhaled harshly. “Then he looks at me and tells me to deliver his message. Says if Seraphine keeps interfering, he’ll overwrite her. Said women will become breeding stock again.”
My jaw tightened.
Stephen shook his head again. “Then he just… walked away.”
Lucian frowned. “He let you live?”
Stephen shrugged helplessly. “Apparently I’m the messenger.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I sighed.
“Well.”
Stephen squinted suspiciously. “What?”
I let my horns surface.
Fire rolled up my shoulders as they pushed free.
Stephen froze.
“What the hell—”
Lucian stepped forward next. Water curled around his arms as his horns appeared.
Stephen backed up immediately.
“Oh hell no.”
Amara raised her hand sheepishly.
Two small water horns poked through her hair.
Stephen stared at her.
“Nope.” He pointed at all of us. “Nope nope nope nope.” His voice climbed. “What the hell is happening?!”
And that was when—
“CAN EVERYONE SHUT UP?!”
The voice cracked through the penthouse like thunder.
We all turned.
Seraphine stood in the hallway.
Barefoot.
Hair a mess.
Horns fully visible.
Her eyes burned molten gold, her tail flicked behind her, and her talons were fully extended like she was about two seconds away from murdering the entire room.
Stephen stared at her.
Then screamed.
“Oh come on!”