Chapter 47 Seraphine
“So what do we do?” I asked.
Dante reached for his phone.
“We call Kael,” he said.
Lucian frowned. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“Is that safe?” I asked.
Dante’s eyes met mine—steady, fierce, unyielding.
“No,” he said honestly. “But it’s necessary.”
He unlocked his phone.
“If Renee is acting independently,” he continued, “Kael needs to rein her in.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I asked.
Dante’s voice dropped.
“Then we prepare to burn shadow territory to the ground.”
My pulse jumped—but I didn’t look away.
“Call him,” Lucian said.
Dante pressed the button.
And somewhere, far beyond neutral ground, the shadow king’s attention turned toward us.
The sharp click echoed too loud in the room.
Amara walked in from the hallway at the same moment—took one look at Dante’s face, Lucian’s posture, and the way my hands were clenched at my sides—and immediately shut up. No jokes. No commentary. She slid in beside me, silent, eyes alert.
Then Kael’s voice filled the room.
Low. Sharp. Furious.
“I don’t have time for you right now, Vescari,” Kael snapped. “Valin has declared war. I have preparations to make. I will not entertain your games.”
My stomach dropped.
Dante didn’t even blink.
“This isn’t a game,” he cut in smoothly. “And this war is your fault.”
Silence.
Then Kael laughed—short, humorless, edged with menace.
“You’re overstepping,” Kael said. “Again. Mind your territory and stop running your mouth.”
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
Dante stepped closer to the table, one hand braced against it, heat rolling off him in waves I could feel all the way in my bones.
“Valin called me,” Dante said flatly. “He warned me. He gave me courtesy you don’t deserve.”
That got Kael’s attention.
“What did you say?”
“I said,” Dante continued, voice sharpening, “that your consort crossed into Death territory without permission. That she violated neutral ground. And that she’s currently making a beeline toward Water territory.”
The room went deathly still.
Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
Kael exploded.
“You don’t get to track my consort,” he snarled. “You don’t get to involve yourself in my affairs. Renee goes where I allow her to go.”
Lucian scoffed. “Clearly.”
Dante didn’t raise his voice—but somehow that made it worse.
“She’s being tracked,” he said. “By Valin’s top three. Dolófónos. Orders are to kill anyone who stands in their way.”
Amara sucked in a sharp breath beside me.
Kael swore—loud, vicious.
“You will keep your fucking nose out of this,” Kael barked. “This does not concern you.”
“It concerns me,” Dante shot back, fire finally snapping into his tone, “when your consort is about to wipe half the kingdoms off the planet.”
Silence slammed down again.
Heavy. Pressurized.
I could hear Kael breathing through the speaker now.
Controlled. Dangerous.
“You’re making threats,” Kael said slowly.
“No,” Dante replied. “I’m stating consequences. Rein her in. Now. Before Valin reaches her. Before she crosses into Lucian’s territory. Before this becomes irreversible.”
Lucian leaned forward. “Because if she sets foot in Water territory, Kael, I won’t hold back. And neither will Valin.”
Kael growled something low and furious.
“She answers to me,” Kael said. “Not you. Not Valin.”
“Then act like it,” Dante snapped. “Because right now, she’s acting independently. And if you lose control of her—”
“I won’t,” Kael cut in.
Dante’s voice went deadly calm.
“You already have,” he said.
The words landed heavier than any shout.
Kael inhaled slowly through the speaker. “Careful.”
“No,” Dante replied, unwavering. “You should have been careful.”
Silence stretched—thin and razor-edged.
“You’ve lost control of your consort,” Dante continued. “And you lost it long before tonight. War isn’t coming, Kael. It’s already on your doorstep.”
“That’s a lie,” Kael snapped. “Renee acts with my permission.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“Then explain this,” he said coldly. “Why is she kidnapping women and delivering them to you?”
The room seemed to constrict around us.
Lucian’s eyes flicked to mine—sharp, alert.
Kael didn’t answer.
Dante pressed harder. “Why are women disappearing after being led into your orbit? Why are they never seen again? Why is your consort acting like a collector instead of a guardian?”
“You’re crossing a line,” Kael warned.
“You crossed it first,” Dante shot back. “The moment you let her hunt unchecked. The moment you let her believe she could act independently. The moment you decided bodies were acceptable collateral for power.”
A low, dangerous sound rumbled through the phone.
“You don’t understand what I’m doing,” Kael said.
“Then enlighten me,” Dante demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re stockpiling lives like weapons—and pretending you still hold the leash.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
And that was all the confirmation Dante needed.
“Rein her in,” he said, voice ironclad. “Now. Or Valin’s assassins will. And if they don’t stop her—Lucian will. And if he has to move—so will I.”
Lucian leaned in, voice sharp as breaking ice. “And none of us will clean up what’s left.”
The threat hung there—unspoken but absolute.
Kael’s breathing was no longer controlled.
It was furious.
“This isn’t finished,” he said.
“No,” Dante agreed quietly. “It isn’t. But if you don’t end this tonight, Kael—history will remember you as the king who started a war he couldn’t survive.”
The line went dead.
No warning.
No last word.
Just the heavy, ringing silence of something already in motion.
And deep down, I knew Dante was right.
Kael hadn’t just lost control of his consort.
He’d lost control of everything.
Amara didn’t hesitate.
The second the call ended, she crossed the room in three quick steps and practically launched herself into Lucian’s arms. He caught her automatically, like his body had been waiting for it, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other settling at her back. She pressed her face into his chest, breathing him in, grounding herself.
And Lucian—ancient, terrifying Water King Lucian—softened.
Completely.
He rested his chin on the top of her head, eyes closing for just a second, like the world had narrowed down to the woman in his arms. Like everything else—the threats, the war, the politics—could wait.
My chest tightened.
I was happy for her. Genuinely. Amara had always been fearless in her own way, always unapologetic, always stepping forward instead of shrinking back. Seeing her accept who she was—and who Lucian was—felt right. It felt earned.
But the happiness came tangled with something sharp and aching.
Because I couldn’t do that.
Not yet.
I stood a few feet away, hands clenched at my sides, painfully aware of the space between Dante and me. He was close—too close for comfort, too far for courage. I could feel him there like a steady heat at my back, solid and waiting, and it made everything inside me twist.
I wanted to step into him.
God, I wanted to.
But fear rooted me in place. Fear of what it would mean. Fear of what I was becoming. Fear that if I let myself lean on him, I wouldn’t ever be able to stand on my own again.
Dante didn’t touch me.
He didn’t push.
And somehow, that made it harder.