Lucien didn’t release Seraphine right away.
He should have.
He knew every eye in the corridor would be watching, every scent reading the truth off his skin. But for a long, dangerous heartbeat, all he felt was the steadiness in his chest. The absence of pain. The silence where agony had been.
Her.
Seraphine realized it at the same time he did.
She stepped back abruptly, breaking contact.
The ache slammed back into Lucien like a fist to the ribs.
He hissed softly, fingers curling at his side.
Seraphine’s eyes widened. “It came back.”
Lucien stared at her, something close to awe and fear tightening his expression. “Yes.”
The door to the inner chamber stood wide open now.
That was a mistake.
Wolves crowded the entrance, their scents loud with shock and confusion. They had felt the Alpha’s collapse. Had felt his recovery.
And now they were seeing the impossible.
Lucien Blackthorn standing uninjured.
Beside a human.
Murmurs rippled through the gathered pack.
“I saw the blood”
“He was dying”
“She touched him”
Lucien turned slowly, his presence rolling outward like a dark tide.
Silence fell.
“She stays,” he said.
No explanation.
No debate.
Selene stepped forward.
“Alpha,” she said carefully, “the pack deserves to understand what’s happening.”
Lucien’s gaze flicked to her, sharp. “This is not a council matter.”
“It is when your life is involved,” Selene pressed. “You collapsed in front of everyone. Then you disappeared and returned healed.”
Her eyes slid to Seraphine.
“After touching her.”
Seraphine stiffened, instincts screaming.
Lucien moved instantly, placing himself half a step in front of her without thinking.
A protective barrier.
The pack noticed.
Selene noticed.
Something dark flashed across her face before she masked it.
Lucien felt it then the subtle shift in the air, the way the pack’s attention sharpened. Wolves were loyal, but they were also survivors.
An Alpha who could be hurt was dangerous.
An Alpha whose weakness had a name?
Even more so.
“You will not speculate,” Lucien said coldly. “You will not touch her. And you will not question my authority.”
Selene bowed her head.
But her scent betrayed her again.
Not submission.
Resolve.
“As you command,” she said.
Lucien turned away, dismissing the pack with a sharp gesture. “Leave us.”
Reluctantly, the wolves dispersed—though Seraphine could feel their eyes lingering on her back like claws.
When they were alone again, Lucien finally looked at her fully.
“You should be terrified,” he said quietly.
“I am,” Seraphine replied just as softly. “I just don’t show it.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across his face gone almost immediately.
“This changes everything,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “I didn’t even know I could”
“I know,” Lucien interrupted. He paused, then added, more honestly, “And that’s what frightens me.”
He hesitated, then held out his hand not touching her, just close enough that she could feel the heat of him.
“May I?”
Seraphine’s pulse quickened.
She nodded.
Lucien brushed his fingers lightly against her wrist.
The ache eased. Not fully. But enough.
Both of them inhaled sharply.
Lucien closed his eyes for a brief moment.
“You anchor me,” he said. “Whatever you are… my body recognizes you.”
Seraphine swallowed. “That doesn’t sound safe.”
“It isn’t,” he agreed.
From the shadows at the edge of the clearing, Selene watched the two of them stand far too close.
Watched the Alpha soften in a way he never had for her.
Watched the impossible become undeniable.
Her jaw tightened.
If the human was the Alpha’s anchor
Then removing her wouldn’t just restore balance.
It would secure Lucien forever.
Selene turned and slipped into the forest, her mind already racing through poisons, blades, and accidents that could be blamed on human weakness.
Above them, the moon climbed higher.
And deep in Seraphine’s veins, something ancient stirred responding not to threat…
…but to claim.