Chapter 173 Dante
“Pick her up.”
Lukas didn’t raise his voice. But something in the way he said it, calm, controlled, final, cut straight through the chaos in my head.
“We need to take her to your penthouse,” he continued. “She needs to finish this… shift somewhere contained.”
I froze for half a second. “…her what?”
Lukas’s gaze flicked toward the open doorway, toward the hallway, toward everything outside this room.
“I’m not explaining it here,” he said flatly. “Anyone could be listening.”
My jaw tightened. Everything in me wanted to push. Demand answers. Force him to explain what the hell was happening to her—
But I looked down at Seraphine. At her burning skin. At the mark glowing faintly on her shoulder. At the way her body still trembled like she was barely holding together. And I didn’t argue.
“Fine.”
I slid one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back, lifting her carefully, but quickly, into my arms. She weighed nothing. Too light. Too still.
“Let’s move.”
No one argued. We were out the door in seconds. Down the hallway. Out of the building.
The night air hit like a slap, cooler than inside but still not enough to cut through the heat rolling off her. Two SUVs were already waiting at the curb, engines running.
Good. I didn’t slow. I didn’t check who was getting in where. I just moved.
The door to the nearest SUV opened and I climbed in immediately, pulling Seraphine tighter against me as I settled into the back seat.
Amara slid in right behind me.
“Go,” I snapped to the driver, already giving him the address. “Now.”
The vehicle lurched forward instantly. I didn’t look back. Didn’t check if Lucian or Lukas were following. Didn’t care.
All that mattered... Was her.
Amara shifted beside me, already moving, already working. “Give me space—”
I adjusted slightly, still holding Seraphine as Amara reached into the console, grabbing a bottle of water, wetting a cloth, pressing it gently against Seraphine’s forehead again.
“Her temperature’s still high,” she muttered.
“I know.”
I didn’t take my eyes off her. Not once. The ride felt too long. Even though it wasn’t. Every second dragged. Every breath felt wrong.
Her fire flickered weakly across her skin, still there, still alive, but unstable, like it didn’t know what it was supposed to do. Like she didn’t.
“Stay with me,” I murmured quietly, brushing her hair back again, my thumb grazing over the white-tipped strands.
That hadn’t been there before. None of this had been.
“Just—stay.”
The SUV hadn’t even fully stopped before I was out. I didn’t wait. Didn’t slow.
I moved straight into the building, Seraphine still in my arms as Amara hurried ahead of me, already punching in codes at the elevator panel.
“Got it—go—go—”
The doors slid open. We stepped in. Another code. Then another.
Security layered on security, the system locking behind us as the elevator shot upward.
My penthouse. Safe. Contained. Fireproof. The doors opened again with a soft chime.
Cold light greeted us. Sharp. Clean.
Steel grey and black tones stretched across the space, nothing soft, nothing warm. Clean lines. Open space. Controlled.
Nothing like Lucian’s. No comfort. No distractions. Just structure. Just control.
I crossed the room quickly, heading straight for the main couch, lowering Seraphine down carefully, making sure her head was supported, her body angled just enough to keep her breathing steady.
Amara disappeared immediately. Kitchen. I could hear drawers opening, cabinets shifting. Water running.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. I just stood there for a second. Looking at her.
Trying to understand what the hell I was looking at. Her hair. The mark. The fire. The heat.
None of it made sense.
Amara rushed back in moments later, a pitcher of water in one hand, several cloths draped over her arm. She dropped down beside Seraphine immediately, dipping one of the cloths into the water and pressing it gently against her forehead again.
“Come on…” she murmured softly. “Don’t do this, Sera… come on…”
I stood there. Watching. Trying to piece it together. Trying to figure out what Lukas meant.
Shift.
What the hell did that even mean?
The silence stretched. Too quiet. Too tense.
Then—Ding.
The elevator.
My head snapped up instantly. Footsteps. Fast.
Lucian stepped out first, Lukas right behind him, both of them moving quickly into the space.
I didn’t wait.
“What the hell is happening to her?” I demanded, my voice sharp, controlled—but barely.
Lukas didn’t answer right away.
He stepped closer instead. Closer to her. Closer to the mark. Closer to the fire.
His eyes scanned everything. Careful. Detailed.
Like he was confirming something he already suspected.
Then finally... He spoke. Quiet. Certain.
“She’s becoming something new.”
The words hit and didn’t land. Not really. Because they didn’t mean anything.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snapped, stepping forward, my fire flaring along my arms before I could stop it. “No—no, I’m done with this cryptic shit, Lukas. I want actual answers. I want to know what the hell is happening to her and how to fix it.”
“Dante—” Lucian started, stepping in slightly, one hand coming up like he was about to calm me down.
“Don’t,” I cut him off, my voice dropping, sharp and dangerous. “Not right now.”
The air in the penthouse shifted. Heat spiked.
My dragon pressed forward, agitated, restless, ready to burn something just to make sense of this.
“I’m not watching her burn alive while you stand there talking in riddles,” I continued, my gaze locking onto Lukas. “You knew what that egg was. You knew something like this could happen.”
Lukas didn’t flinch. Didn’t back up. Didn’t react to the heat rolling off me like it meant anything at all. Good.
Because I wasn’t in the mood for fragile.
“I need to know how to help her,” I said, my voice rough now, barely held together. “She’s my mate.”
Lucian stepped closer again, quieter this time. “Dante, I get it, but you need to—”
“I said don’t.”
The fire snapped outward this time.
Not full force.
But enough to make the air ripple.
Enough to make the point.
Amara glanced up briefly, but didn’t move away from Seraphine. She just kept the cloth pressed to her forehead, steady, focused.
Lukas finally spoke. Calm. Measured.
“You can’t stop this.”
That made something inside me snap.
“The fuck I can’t—”
“She’s not dying,” Lukas said, cutting clean through my anger.
Silence hit. Hard.
My fire faltered slightly. “What?” I demanded.
“She’s not dying,” he repeated, slower this time. “She’s transforming.”
I clenched my jaw. “Into what?”
Lukas’s gaze shifted briefly to Seraphine—taking in her hair, the mark, the fire—then back to me.
“Dual-bonded.”
The word landed heavier than anything else he’d said.
Lucian went still.
Amara paused for half a second before continuing what she was doing.
Even my dragon quieted slightly.
“…that’s not a thing,” Lucian said slowly.
“It is though. It's just extremely rare,” Lukas replied.