The night wrapped them in its velvety embrace, but dawn threatened to shatter the fragile world they had created between silk sheets and whispered moans.
Seraphina stirred beneath Cassian, her body still thrumming from the ecstasy they had conjured in the dead of night. The scent of him—sandalwood and steel—clung to her skin, mingling with the traces of magic that crackled faintly in the air around them. His strong arms encircled her, their warmth a silent promise that, for now, she was safe.
But deep within her, she knew safety was an illusion.
She traced her fingers over the scars on his chest—marks of battles fought, of pain endured. Some were deep, the wounds of swords and daggers. Others were faint, old memories of a life spent surviving in a world that had never shown him mercy.
"You stare as if you might heal them," Cassian murmured, his voice thick with sleep and desire.
She smirked, her lips grazing his jaw. "I have magic, you know. I could."
His eyes darkened as he rolled onto his side, propping himself on one elbow. "Don’t," he said, his fingers trailing over the curve of her waist. "These remind me of what I have survived. And what I would survive again… for you."
Seraphina’s breath hitched. She had been worshipped, desired, feared. But never fought for.
She arched against him, letting her nails rake across his broad shoulders. "You play a dangerous game, Cassian."
His lips hovered over hers, teasing, lingering. "I’ve never been one to play safe."
Their mouths met in a kiss—slow, consuming, an unspoken vow. His hands roamed freely, memorizing every inch of her, as if he feared she might disappear with the morning light.
The fire between them ignited once more. She moaned softly as he rolled her beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress. His lips left a scorching trail down her neck, his fingers dancing over her bare skin, tracing the curves he had already claimed.
"Cassian," she whispered, her voice breathless, needful.
He pulled back slightly, his stormy gray eyes locked onto hers. "Say it again," he murmured.
She cupped his face, her thumb grazing over his cheekbone. "Cassian."
His name had never sounded so much like a prayer.
A sharp knock on the chamber doors shattered the silence.
Seraphina gasped, her magic crackling instinctively. She flicked her wrist, and the sheets twisted around them, shielding their bodies just as the heavy doors creaked open.
"High Enchantress," a voice called, hesitant. "The Elders summon you."
Cassian tensed beside her, his muscles coiling like a predator ready to strike.
Seraphina forced calm into her voice. "Tell them I shall arrive shortly."
The footsteps retreated, leaving behind a suffocating quiet.
Cassian rolled onto his back, exhaling sharply. "It’s happening, isn’t it?"
She turned to him, brushing her fingers over his stubbled jaw. "The Elders suspect something. But they won’t act unless they are certain."
He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Then we must be more careful."
Seraphina swallowed hard. Careful meant distance. Meant pretending. And every part of her rebelled against it.
But Cassian leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. "No matter what happens, I will always find you."
She closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of him, the scent of him. Because deep down, she knew.
The hunt had begun. And love alone might not be enough to save them.
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