Chapter 170 Seraphine
The closer we got, the quieter everything felt.
Not peaceful. Not calm. Just… wrong.
The building itself looked untouched from the outside. Lights still flickered in neighboring units. A car passed on the street like nothing in the world had shifted.
But the moment we stepped into the hallway leading to my brother’s apartment—
I felt it. That same pull. Stronger now. Insistent. Waiting.
Dante’s hand tightened slightly at my back as we stopped in front of the door.
It was already open. Not kicked in. Not broken. Just… open.
Like someone had walked out and never bothered to close it. Or like something had been dragged through it.
My stomach twisted.
“I don’t like this,” Dante muttered.
“Neither do I,” I whispered.
But I stepped forward anyway. Because I had to. The smell hit first.
Iron. Thick. Suffocating. Blood. So much blood.
It coated the floor just inside the entryway, dried in some places, still tacky in others. My boots stuck faintly with each step as I moved further inside, my breathing going shallow without me meaning it to.
The apartment was destroyed.
Not messy. Not tossed. Destroyed.
Furniture overturned. Walls gouged. Cabinets ripped open like something had gone through them in a frenzy. Papers shredded, drawers emptied, glass shattered across the floor.
This wasn’t a search. This was desperation.
My gaze caught and froze.
Carol. What was left of her. She wasn’t just dead. She was… ruined.
Something had gone straight through her torso, leaving a gaping, hollowed-out hole where there should have been bone, flesh—anything. Blood had pooled beneath her, soaked into the carpet, splattered across the walls like a violent painting I couldn’t look away from.
My throat tightened. Not from grief. Not for her. But from the sheer brutality of it.
“…Thane,” I said quietly.
Dante didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. We both knew.
I forced myself to look away, stepping deeper into the apartment, my eyes scanning everything—every broken piece, every torn space, every sign of violence.
“What the hell was he looking for?” I murmured.
My voice sounded distant. Even to me.
Dante moved behind me, his presence close, protective, his gaze sharp as he took everything in. “Whatever it was,” he said, voice low, “he didn’t find it.”
I frowned slightly, glancing back at him. “How do you know?”
He gestured around us. “Because if he had, this place wouldn’t look like this. He tore it apart. That’s not someone who got what they wanted.”
That… made sense. Too much sense.
My mind started connecting things, fast, messy, trying to make it all fit. “Renee,” I said suddenly.
Dante’s eyes flicked to me. “What if he was looking for something Renee gave Stephen?” I continued, my voice gaining urgency. “They were working together. Or at least… pretending to.”
Dante let out a short, humorless snort. “Then yeah. That tracks.”
He stepped closer, glancing around again. “And if that’s the case, whatever it is—it’s still here.”
A chill slid down my spine. “The skeleton,” I said slowly.
Dante’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”
“It wasn’t just there to watch us,” I continued. “It was gathering information.”
“For whatever Thane couldn’t find,” Dante finished.
Silence fell again. Heavy.
Because that meant... This wasn’t over. Not even close.
I turned slowly, scanning the apartment again, but this time, differently.
Not just looking. Searching. Feeling.
That pull inside me surged again. Stronger. More focused.
My dragon stirred sharply beneath my skin. Not restless. Not angry. Alert.
There, she whispered.
I stilled.
“What?” I murmured under my breath.
Kitchen.
My heart started to pick up.
I moved without thinking, stepping carefully over broken glass and debris, heading toward the kitchen.
It was just as bad as the rest.
Cabinets ripped open. Countertops cracked. Dishes shattered into dust across the tile.
But the pull... It centered. Low. Beneath.
I stepped further in, my boots crunching softly.
“Seraphine?” Dante’s voice came from behind me, cautious now.
I didn’t answer. I dropped slowly to my knees.
My fingers pressed against the floorboards.
And there... A faint shift.
Barely noticeable. But there.
My breath caught. “There’s something here.”
Dante moved instantly, crouching beside me. “Where?”
I tapped lightly against the wood. “Hollow.”
His eyes sharpened. Without hesitation, he reached forward, gripping the edge of the board and tearing it up with a sharp crack of wood splintering.
Dust rose.
And beneath it, a small box. Old. Unmarked. Hidden.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
We stared at it for a second.
Neither of us touching it.
Because somehow... We both knew.
This was what Thane had been looking for. And he hadn’t found it.
My dragon stirred again. Low. Satisfied.
Now we know why you were called here.
I swallowed.
Dante shifted slightly beside me, his presence tightening, protective instinct already kicking in. “We don’t touch anything yet,” he said quietly.
Of course he did. Of course he would be the voice of reason.
I nodded. But my eyes didn’t leave the box.
It was… ordinary. Plain. Unmarked. Which made it worse.
Because nothing about what we were dealing with was ordinary.
“Ready?” Dante asked.
I hesitated. Then nodded again.
He reached first. Careful. Controlled.
His fingers curled around the edge of the lid, and for a brief second, everything seemed to hold its breath with us.
Then... He lifted it.
The moment the box opened, the air shifted. Not violently. Not explosively.
Just… Different.
My breath caught.
Inside... Was an egg. Not just any egg.
It was… Beautiful.
Opal-like in its base, shimmering with soft, shifting colors that didn’t quite settle on one shade. Blues melted into pinks, gold flickered beneath the surface, and threaded throughout it were delicate crystalline veins that caught the light and fractured it into tiny, dancing reflections across the broken kitchen walls.
It looked… Alive. Ancient. Important.
Dante went completely still beside me. “…What the hell is that?” he breathed.
I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t know.
But I felt it. That pull inside me?
It snapped into place.
This was what had been calling me.
My dragon surged forward, not aggressively, curiously. Hungry.
Touch it.
Dante shifted slightly. “Seraphine—”
I didn’t listen. I did the stupid thing. The very stupid thing.
I reached forward. Slowly. Carefully.
My fingers hovered just above the surface for half a second—
Then I touched it. The reaction was immediate.
The egg pulsed.
Light exploded outward from beneath my fingertips, soft at first—then brighter, stronger, like something inside it had just woken up.
I gasped. The warmth hit next. Not burning. Not painful. Just… alive.
Like holding a heartbeat that didn’t belong to me.
“Seraphine—” Dante’s voice sharpened now, his hand gripping my wrist, ready to pull me back.
But I couldn’t move. Because the moment I touched it... It responded.
The light shifted, curling up my fingers, wrapping around my hand like it recognized me.
Like it knew me.