Chapter 172 Dante
Her shoulder.
I stilled.
“Seraphine—”
The fabric of her shirt had shifted slightly, burned away just enough for me to see her skin beneath and what was forming there made my breath catch.
Marks. Faint at first. Then brighter.
Lines of silver-white light traced themselves along her shoulder, delicate and precise, like something was drawing directly onto her skin.
Not random. Not chaotic. Intentional. The lines connected. Shifted.
Expanded... Until I could see it clearly. Stars. Not just dots. Not just light. A pattern.
A constellation burned into her skin, glowing softly against the heat of her body, pulsing faintly in time with her heartbeat.
“What the fuck is that—?” I breathed.
My dragon went quiet. Too quiet.
That’s not a mark, he said slowly.
I swallowed. “Then what is it?”
A pause.
That’s a claim.
My grip tightened around her instantly. “No.”
But even as I said it, I knew. This wasn’t random. This wasn’t just power. This was something ancient recognizing her. Choosing her. And marking her as its own.
Her dragon whimpered faintly in the back of my mind, still in pain, still struggling.
It’s inside us…
My heart slammed harder.
“Lucian needs to hurry the fuck up,” I muttered, pressing the cloth back to her forehead as her temperature spiked again.
Because whatever that egg had been... It wasn’t just a dragon. It wasn’t just power. It was something that was changing her... right in my arms. And I had no idea what she was becoming.
The cloth in my hand had gone warm again.
Too fast.
“Fuck—”
I pulled it away, stood just enough to reach the sink again, and shoved it back under the cold water. The faucet hissed loudly in the silence, water splashing over my hands as I wrung the cloth out hard, my fingers slipping slightly from the heat still radiating off my skin.
“Hurry up,” I muttered... to the cloth, to Lucian, to anyone.
To the universe, maybe.
I turned back to her immediately, dropping back down to my knees and pressing the cold fabric to her forehead again, dragging it gently across her temples, down her cheek, along her throat where her pulse fluttered too fast, too erratic.
“Come on, Seraphine…” I murmured, my voice lower now, rough. “Stay with me. Don’t do this—don’t—”
Footsteps. Fast. Heavy. The door slammed harder against the wall as it was shoved open the rest of the way.
“Dante—!”
Lucian.
Relief hit first. Then irritation. Then panic again because they needed to move faster.
“In here!” I snapped.
They were there instantly. Lucian in front, Lukas right behind him, Amara already moving before either of them had fully stepped into the room. The apartment still smelled like blood. Like death. Like something had gone very, very wrong and now something worse had followed it.
“What the hell happened—” Lucian started, then stopped dead the moment he saw her.
“Holy shit.”
Yeah... That was about right.
Amara dropped to her knees beside me without hesitation, her hands hovering over Seraphine’s face before she gently cupped her cheek. “Seraphine—hey—hey, wake up—come on—”
No response. Not even a twitch.
“She’s out cold,” I said tightly, not taking my eyes off her as I kept the cloth pressed to her skin. “Has been since it hit her.”
“Since what hit her?” Lucian demanded, stepping closer, his gaze scanning her quickly, taking in the fire, the heat, the hair—
“The egg,” I snapped, jerking my chin toward the kitchen floor.
Lukas had already moved.
He crouched near the broken floorboards, his movements precise, controlled as he reached for the box we’d pulled up moments ago.
The egg sat inside, now. Still. Dim. No glow. No pulse. Like whatever had been inside it… Was gone.
“…interesting,” Lukas murmured.
Lucian shot him a look. “Now is not the time for interesting, old man.”
Lukas ignored him completely.
“She touched it,” I said, forcing myself to focus, to give them what they needed. “It cracked—light came out—white, silver—attached to her hand and then just—went inside her. All of it.”
Lucian’s attention snapped back to me. “All of it?”
“All of it,” I repeated. “She screamed, her dragon went fucking feral, and then she dropped.”
Amara glanced up at me briefly, concern sharp in her eyes before she looked back down at Seraphine. “Her temperature is insane,” she muttered, brushing her thumb lightly across Seraphine’s cheek. “She’s burning up—”
“I know,” I bit out. “I’m trying to keep it down without killing her fire.”
Lucian crouched beside us, his hand hovering near Seraphine’s arm before he pulled it back slightly, feeling the heat radiating off her. “Jesus…”
Then his gaze caught on something. “…Dante.”
“What?”
I followed his line of sight again, and even knowing it was there, it still hit like a punch.
The constellation on her shoulder. Brighter now. Clearer. Silver-white lines glowing against her skin, forming something deliberate, something ancient.
Lucian leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing. “That wasn’t there before.”
“No shit,” I snapped.
Amara glanced at it too, her brows pulling together. “That’s… not normal.”
“Thank you, Amara,” I said dryly. “Very helpful.”
“Shut up, you’re panicking,” she shot back.
She wasn’t wrong. I was absolutely panicking.
Lukas stood slowly, the box in his hands, the egg sitting inside like nothing had happened. Like it hadn’t just nearly killed her.
“It’s dormant now,” he said calmly.
I looked up at him sharply. “Dormant?”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Lukas’s gaze shifted from the egg to Seraphine, studying her.
“It means,” he said slowly, “that whatever was inside it…” His eyes settled on the mark along her shoulder. “…is no longer in the egg.”
Silence. Heavy. Obvious.
Lucian exhaled slowly. “You don’t say.”
Amara’s grip tightened slightly on Seraphine’s hand. “Can you fix this?”
Lukas didn’t answer immediately. Which I did not like.
“Lukas,” I snapped, my patience gone, my voice dropping into something far more dangerous. “Start talking.”
He finally looked at me. And for the first time... There was something in his expression I hadn’t seen before.
Not concern. Not exactly. Recognition.
“This,” he said quietly, “is not something that needs to be fixed.”
My chest tightened.
“Then what the fuck is it?”
Lukas glanced back down at Seraphine. At her hair. At the mark. At the fire still flickering across her skin.
“This,” he said, voice steady, “is something that needs to be survived.”