Chapter 184 Seraphine
“I knew immediately what had happened,” he said, still looking at me. “Something ancient woke up.”
A pause and then his lips curved slightly. Not a smile. Not really. Something more knowing.
“And you,” he said softly, “were at the center of it.”
My throat went dry.
Dante’s voice dropped, dangerous. “You’ll speak to all of us.”
“No,” the man said simply.
Silence. Thick. Heavy.
“I’ll speak to her,” he corrected. His gaze never left mine. “And if you’re very quiet,” he added lazily, glancing briefly at the others, “you might learn something.”
Lucian whispered, “I hate him.”
Amara nodded immediately. “Same.”
Dante didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t back down, but he... didn't interrupt. Because something in the air had already made it very clear. This man, this voidbinder... Wasn’t someone you challenged lightly.
His eyes settled back on me. Sharp. Interested. Almost… pleased.
“Now,” he said, resting his chin lightly against his knuckles. “Tell me what you’ve seen.”
I swallowed, my fingers twitching slightly at my side before I forced them still. Then I stepped forward, just enough to claim the space he had already given me.
Dante shifted behind me immediately. Close. Watching. Ready.
Always ready.
“I saw it at the ward,” I said, my voice steady—barely. “Not just the rot. Not just the damage.”
His head tilted slightly, eyes sharpening.
“I saw something standing in it.”
That got his attention.
Not fully—but enough.
“Describe it,” he said.
“It looked like death,” I said quietly. “Not… a body. Not really. More like something wearing the idea of one. Hollow. Black eyes. Too tall. Too still.”
My chest tightened slightly as the memory pushed forward.
“It saw me,” I added. “Not like it was surprised. Not like I wasn’t supposed to be there.”
A pause.
“It recognized me.”
Something flickered in his expression. Small. But there.
“And?” he prompted.
“It… toyed with me,” I said, my voice tightening. “Like I was interesting. Like I wasn’t prey yet.”
Behind me, I felt Dante go still. The air shifted slightly. Dangerous. But the voidbinder didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge it.
“Go on,” he said.
I exhaled slowly. “I made a mistake,” I admitted. “Before that. Before all of this.”
His gaze sharpened again. “What kind of mistake?”
“I touched something I shouldn’t have.” A beat. “An egg.”
That got a reaction. Not dramatic. Not loud. But his entire posture shifted just slightly forward. Focused now.
“What kind of egg?” he asked.
“I didn’t know at the time,” I said. “I just knew it was… old. Powerful. It responded to me.”
My fingers curled slightly. “It didn’t just react,” I continued. “It bonded.”
Silence. Heavy.
Then— “…of course it did,” he murmured.
Lucian stepped forward slightly behind me. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure out how that—”
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” the voidbinder said flatly.
Lucian stopped. “…right.”
I almost smiled. Almost. “I’m dual bonded now,” I said, pulling his attention back. “Fire… and something else.”
His gaze flicked to my shoulder again. To the mark.
“Cosmic,” he said quietly.
Not a question. A fact.
I nodded. “And now I can see things I couldn’t before,” I continued. “Threads. Vines. Connections. Everything is… tied together.”
His expression didn’t change. But he was listening. Really listening.
“They’re everywhere,” I said. “Even here.”
That made him still. Just slightly.
I gestured faintly around the cabin. “They’re strong here. Alive. Pulsing. Thriving.”
His eyes darkened just a fraction. “And at the ward?” he asked.
My stomach twisted. “They were rotting,” I whispered.
The word hung in the air. Heavy. Wrong.
“Not dying,” I continued. “Not fading. Rotting. Like something was eating them from the inside out.” I swallowed. “Same with the bodies,” I added. “The guards. Their threads weren’t gone—they were… consumed. What was left just… broke apart.”
Silence. Deeper this time. More dangerous.
“And the thing you saw?” he asked quietly.
“I think it’s connected,” I said. “Or worse—” I hesitated. Because even saying it out loud felt wrong. “I think it’s the source.”
Behind me, Dante spoke, low and sharp. “It used one of the bodies. Like a puppet.”
“I know,” the voidbinder said.
Dante froze. “You—”
“I said,” the voidbinder repeated, finally glancing at him with clear irritation, “I know.”
Dante’s jaw clenched.
Lucian muttered under his breath, “I still hate him.”
Amara nodded. “Same.”
The voidbinder ignored them again. Completely. His attention snapped back to me.
“And what did it feel like?” he asked.
The question hit deeper than I expected.
My breath hitched slightly. “It felt…” I hesitated.
My dragon stirred. Uneasy. Restless.
Seraphine…
I ignored her.
“…hungry,” I finished. “Not just for me. For everything.”
His gaze sharpened. “And you let it touch your mind?”
That wasn’t a question. “No,” I said quickly. “It tried.”
His expression went still. Dangerously still.
“Did it succeed?”
“No.”
A pause.
“…good,” he said quietly.
My dragon surged again.
Seraphine—something is wrong.
I swallowed hard, pushing it down.
“I don’t think it’s just killing,” I continued. “I think it’s feeding. Growing.”
“And spreading,” he added.
“Yes.”
“It found you interesting,” he said slowly. Not asking. Understanding.
“Yes.”
“That’s a problem.”
That wasn’t comforting.
My dragon surged harder this time.
Seraphine.
Sharp. Warning. Something twisted in my chest. Pain flared suddenly—sharp and fast, like something tearing through me from the inside out.
I sucked in a breath.
The voidbinder’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You feel that,” he said.
“I’m fine,” I snapped automatically.
You are not fine, my dragon growled.
The pain spread. Faster. Hotter. My vision flickered.
The threads... They shifted. Twisted. Brightened. Too bright—
My breath hitched violently.
“Seraphine,” Dante said behind me, stepping forward.
“I said I’m fine—”
The words cut off as something snapped inside me. Pain exploded through my body. White. Blinding. Burning.
I gasped, doubling slightly as my hands clenched.
“Hey—hey—” Amara’s voice cut in.
“What’s happening?” Lucian demanded.
Dante was already at my side. “Seraphine—look at me—”
“I—can’t—” I choked.
My dragon roared. Not angry. Not controlled.
In pain. Pure, raw pain.
It’s too much—
My body seized. Heat surged. Then something else. Something colder. Sharper. Older.
The voidbinder stood slowly. Watching. Not panicking. Not surprised.
“Finally,” he murmured.
“What the hell do you mean finally—” Dante snapped.
“Be quiet,” the voidbinder said.
My back arched as the shift hit. Hard. Violent.
My skin burned—no, split—as power ripped through me, tearing, reshaping—
I screamed.
My dragon roared louder. And then... Everything broke.
The world changed. Expanded. Sharpened. Different.
I wasn’t human anymore. Not even close.
I towered over everyone.
My claws dug into the ground beneath me, splintering wood, cracking the floor of the cabin as my body forced itself into existence.
My wings spread wide, hitting the walls, scraping against the ceiling— White. Blinding white. With streaks of red burning through them like veins of fire. And my scales... shining with silver. White. But at the edges... Black. Tipped like something had marked me. Claimed me. Changed me.
My breath came out in a low, rumbling growl that didn’t sound human at all. Didn’t feel human.
Everything felt... Sharper. Stronger. Alive.
Dante’s voice echoed somewhere below me. “Holy—”
Lucian: “Okay—yeah—no one panic—just—everyone panic a little—”
Amara: “She’s beautiful—she’s terrifying—but like—mostly beautiful—”
The voidbinder just watched. Completely still. Completely focused.
And for the first time... He smiled. Not amused. Not mocking. Something else. Something darker. Something impressed.
“Well,” he said softly. “There you are.”