Chapter 57 Afterglow And Ash

Chapter 57 Afterglow And Ash
~~SERAPHINE~~

The silver fire had faded, but the summit still hummed under my boots. Wind scraped across the black stone circle and carried the scent of scorched obsidian. Andrew crouched beside me, one hand at my back, the other cupping my jaw as he searched my eyes. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he was afraid I would vanish if he blinked.

“I’m here,” I said, though my throat felt raw. “I’m still me.”

His breath hitched. “Thank you, Moon Goddess.”

I wanted to tell him about the whisper, the voice that had promised this was only the beginning, but the words jammed behind my teeth. The shadow inside me had gone quiet, like a predator sinking into tall grass. Quiet did not mean gone.

Garek signaled from the ridge with a small flashlight, three quick flashes and a pause. Our perimeter had held. The warriors were waiting below the lip of the summit, giving us space and keeping watch for anything that crawled out of the darkness.

Andrew helped me to my feet. The moment I stood, dizziness washed over me. He caught me before I could sway.

“Easy,” he murmured, pulling a thermal blanket from his pack and wrapping it around my shoulders. “Your body just held back a nightmare.”

“I feel like I ran through a lightning storm,” I admitted.

He kissed my temple. “You saved our child. You saved me.”

The baby shifted, a steady roll that calmed my breathing. I pressed my palm to my stomach, letting the familiar movement anchor me.

We descended slowly, careful on the ice. Andrew moved in front of me on the steep parts, offering his hand, testing each foothold. He was still healing, but he refused to show weakness. Each time he glanced back, his gaze softened, as if he was memorizing me again.

When we reached the first ledge, the wind eased. Garek and two Northern Alphas approached, faces drawn with exhaustion.

“Any sign of pursuit?” Andrew asked.

Garek shook his head. “Nothing living. But the summit feels wrong. Like it remembers.”

“It should,” I said. My voice sounded stronger than I felt. “We ended something there.”

Garek’s eyes flicked to my arm. The dark veins that had crept under my skin were gone, replaced by faint silver lines that shimmered when the moonlight hit them. His expression shifted to awe, then quickly to discipline.

“We should camp before the next ridge,” he said. “The trail will be worse after midnight.”

Andrew agreed, and the warriors moved ahead to set a temporary site among the boulders. I followed the sounds of quiet work, radios clicking, zippers sliding, a small generator hum starting up. Modern gear in an ancient place felt surreal, but it kept us alive.

Andrew guided me into a small tent with a foam mat and a compact heater. He unfastened my gloves and rubbed warmth back into my fingers.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m trying not to,” I confessed.

He sat behind me and pulled me into his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a deep rhythm that reminded me I was not alone. He kissed the back of my neck, slow and careful, like he was making a promise with each touch.

“You were incredible,” he whispered.

“I was terrified,” I answered.

“Those can coexist,” he said, and the hint of a smile touched his voice. “I was terrified too.”

I turned in his arms and met his eyes. Moonlight filtered through the tent fabric, painting his face in silver. He looked older than he had in Seattle, sharper at the edges, but his gaze was still the same. The man who had offered me a room, a game of cards, a night of being seen.

I lifted my hand to his cheek. “I thought I lost you in that hall. I thought the world would end there.”

He closed his eyes against my palm. “I heard you screaming my name. It pulled me back.”

The tenderness in his words broke something open in me. I kissed him, not with urgency, but with gratitude. His hands slid to my waist and held me like an anchor. When we parted, our foreheads stayed together.

“After this,” he said softly, “I want a real wedding. No councils, no threats, no blood on stone.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “You plan far ahead for a man who keeps getting dragged into catastrophe.”

“I plan because you deserve peace,” he replied. Then his gaze dropped to my stomach. He knelt, pressed a kiss to the fabric over my belly, and rested his palm there. “And you deserve a father who comes home.”

The baby kicked once, firm and unmistakable. Andrew’s eyes glistened.

“Hello,” he whispered to the bump. “I’m here. I’m staying.”

I pulled him up and kissed him again. The heat between us was not frantic. It was steady, safe. We lay down together on the mat, fully clothed, his arms around me, my head tucked beneath his chin. His hand remained on my stomach as if he could shield us with touch alone.

For a while, we simply breathed. Outside, the wind prowled around the rocks. Somewhere deeper in the mountain, ice cracked and shifted. The world sounded old and restless.

Andrew spoke into the quiet. “Tell me what you heard on the summit.”

My chest tightened. He had felt it, even if he had not heard it. I swallowed. “A voice. It said the mother wasn’t destroyed.”

His jaw clenched. “Christina.”

“I think so,” I said. “Or whatever was behind her.”

Andrew sat up and reached for his phone. The screen glowed as he checked the signal. No bars, only the emergency satellite icon. He tapped a short message to Garek, then locked it again.

“We do not sleep unguarded,” he said.

As if the mountain had been waiting for that sentence, a sharp whistle cut through the night. Not wind. A signal.

Garek’s voice snapped over the radio outside our tent. “Movement on the east trail. Headlamps. Three, maybe four.”

Andrew was already moving. He grabbed his jacket and knife, then looked back at me. “Stay inside.”

“I’m not staying blind,” I said, and followed him out.

The camp had gone still. Warriors crouched behind rocks, weapons ready. In the distance, a line of lights bobbed through the trees far below, moving with purpose.

A second radio crackle came, distorted, not Garek’s voice.

It was smooth, familiar, and human.

“Seraphine,” the voice said. “Did you miss me?”

My blood turned to ice. Andrew’s head snapped toward the sound, eyes narrowing.

Raymond’s voice continued, calm as if he was calling from a boardroom. “The mountain looks beautiful tonight. I hope you brought warm clothes. You’re going to need them.”

The lights stopped. A darker shape stepped forward behind them.

Even from this distance, I recognized the posture, the way he carried himself like the world owed him space.

Daryl.

Andrew’s hand closed around mine, hard enough to hurt. The camp braced for impact.

Raymond spoke one last time, louder now, amplified through a portable speaker.

“Come down to the tree line, Seraphine. If you want your king to live through sunrise, you’ll do exactly what I say.”