Chapter 181 Seraphine
The silence stretched too long. Too still. Too wrong.
I was still crouched near the body when it happened. At first, I thought my vision was just blurring again—my eyes still adjusting, still aching from everything I’d forced them to see.
But then… The threads moved. Not drifting. Not dissolving. Moving.
My breath caught in my throat.“…wait.”
Dante’s grip tightened instantly. “What?”
I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t. Because I was watching it.The black, rotting threads peeling off the guard’s body—those brittle, cracked strands of what used to be life… They weren’t falling anymore.
They were… pulling. Slowly. Deliberately.Like something invisible had hooked into them. Dragging them upward.
My stomach dropped. “No,” I whispered.
“What is it?” Lucian snapped, stepping closer.
“They’re not done,” I said, my voice shaking. “They’re not done with him—”
The body jerked. Hard.
Amara gasped. “Oh—nope—nope, I don’t like that—”
Dante moved in front of me instantly, one arm coming across my body like a barrier. “Everyone back.”
Another jerk. Sharper this time. The guard’s arm twitched unnaturally, bending at an angle it shouldn’t. A wet, hollow crack echoed through the trees.
Rhevik swore under his breath. “That’s not—”
The body convulsed. Violently. Its back arched off the ground like something yanked it by invisible strings.
And the threads, the black, rotting threads snapped taut. Every single one of them pulling upward at once. Like puppet strings.
“Oh hell no,” Lucian muttered, water already swirling faintly around his hands.
“It’s reattaching,” I choked out. “No—it’s not—it’s using him—”
The guard’s head rolled to the side… Then snapped forward. Too fast. Too sharp.
His eyes… Still hollow. Still empty. But now, moving. Tracking. Watching.
A sound crawled out of his throat. Not a breath. Not a voice. Something wet. Something wrong.
Amara actually took a step back. “That thing is NOT alive—”
“It’s not,” Lukas said coldly. “It’s being operated.”
That word hit like ice down my spine. Operated.
The body pushed itself up. Slow. Jerky.
Limbs twitching like they weren’t being controlled properly. Like whatever had hold of it didn’t quite understand how a body worked.
The arm bent backward too far. A knee snapped with a sickening pop But it didn’t stop. It didn’t care. It kept rising.
Dante’s fire flared instantly, heat snapping through the air. “Stay behind me.”
“I wasn’t planning on doing anything else,” Amara said quickly.
The thing’s head tilted. Slow. Curious. Its mouth twitched like it was trying to remember how to form words.
Then… It smiled. Wrong. Too wide Too empty.
My chest seized. “That’s him,” I whispered.
Dante’s voice dropped, dangerous. “What?”
“That’s the same feeling,” I said, my voice trembling. “From the ward—that thing—that’s him—he’s using this—”
The corpse’s jaw opened. A sound dragged out of it. Layered. Like multiple voices trying to speak through one throat.
“You… see…”
Lucian went still. “Oh that’s—no—that’s absolutely not okay—”
“You… see… me…”
The threads tightened. Pulled. Digging into the body like hooks. I could feel it. That pressure again. That invasive, crawling presence pressing against my mind.
My breath hitched violently. “He’s here—”
Dante shifted in front of me completely now. “Don’t look at it.”
“I can’t not—” I choked. “He’s—he’s looking through it—”
The corpse took a step forward. Its leg dragged slightly behind it, broken but still moving. Still functioning. Still used.
Rhevik stepped forward, fury cutting through the fear. “You will not walk in my territory wearing my people like this—”
“Rhevik, don’t—” Lukas snapped.
Too late. The corpse’s head snapped toward him. Fast. Predatory.
The threads tightened again, and then… It moved. Too fast. Faster than it should have been able to.
Dante reacted instantly, fire exploding from his hand in a violent burst. Flames slammed into the corpse, engulfing it completely. The body shrieked but not in pain. But in something else. Something furious. Something aware.
The smell hit next. Burning flesh. Rot. Something far worse underneath it. The threads didn’t burn.
I saw it.
“They’re still there!” I yelled. “The threads—they’re not burning—they’re still connected—”
Lukas’s expression went deadly serious. “That’s not a body.”
“No shit,” Lucian snapped, water surging around him now. “What gave it away, the demon puppet vibes or the broken limbs—”
The corpse lunged through the flames. Still moving. Still coming.
Dante stepped forward, fully shielding me now as his fire roared hotter. “Stay. Back.”
The corpse staggered again, but this time, its movement faltered. The threads jerked violently. Like something pulling it away. Or… Releasing it.
The body dropped. Hard. Limp. Still.
The fire consumed what was left of it this time. Properly. Completely. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Nothing watched.
Silence. Heavy. Oppressive.
Lucian exhaled slowly. “…I hate everything about that.”
Amara nodded immediately. “Same. Burn the forest. Burn the ground. Burn the entire planet.”
“No,” Lukas said sharply.
We all turned to him. His gaze was fixed on the ashes. On what remained.
“That wasn’t an attack,” he said quietly.
My stomach dropped.
“What do you mean?” Dante asked.
Lukas’s voice lowered. “That was a message.”
Silence wrapped tight around all of us. Cold. Suffocating.
I swallowed hard, my heart still racing. “…what kind of message?”
Lukas didn’t look at me. “Not even fire can sever him,” he said. “We leave. Now.”
It shattered.
“Move,” Lukas ordered, already pulling his phone from his pocket.
No hesitation. No debate.
Just action.
We turned as one, boots crunching over dead leaves and scorched earth as we put distance between ourselves and the thing that had just… worn a body.
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Because I could still feel it. Like something had brushed up against my mind and left a mark behind.
Cold. Watching. Hungry.
Dante’s hand never left me, his grip firm, almost crushing, as he guided me through the trees. “Stay with me,” he muttered again, like he needed to hear it as much as I did.
“I am,” I said, but my voice wasn’t steady.
Behind us, Lukas barked into the phone, his voice sharp and controlled in a way that told me this was bad. Really bad.
“I want this entire section quarantined immediately,” he snapped. “No one in, no one out. I don’t care who they are—kings included—until I say otherwise.”
A pause. Then colder, “Yes. Now.”
Lucian let out a breath beside us. “Quarantine, huh? That’s always a good sign.”
“Shut up,” Amara muttered, though there wasn’t any bite to it.
Rhevik said nothing.
That scared me more than anything.
We broke through the treeline, the SUVs coming into view like some kind of fragile safety net that suddenly didn’t feel safe at all.
Lukas ended the call as we reached them, his expression set in stone.
He turned to Rhevik first.
“You need to evacuate.”