Chapter 16: Let’s Go Home

Chapter 16: Let’s Go Home Seraphina’s POV I didn’t know what I expected when I collapsed in front of him. Mercy or kindness? No. That was foolish of me. Lucien wasn’t built for softness. He was too cold. He didn’t even bother to help me until I offered him something. His eyes looked full of violence, his voice sharpened by power. And yet, I still offered him my body to become his slave so that I could buy myself time or protection or... anything. Shame crawled down my spine the second the words left my lips. But it was already too late. He looked at me like I’d just punched the air out of his lungs, like I was the storm he didn’t see coming. I thought he might laugh at me. But instead... he froze. Like I had just shot a bullet at him. And for a terrifying second, I thought he might actually accept. But then the knock came. His expression cracked. He looked cold and sharp again. He waved his guard off, and I didn’t miss the command in his voice. "If they’re here for her... beat the shit out of them." I sat there like a dead weight, listening to the chaos outside. Fists hitting flesh. Bones breaking. Men screaming like they’d walked into hell blindfolded. Then Lucien stepped out, and it was like death itself moved through the hallway. I should’ve been afraid. But all I felt was... breathless. "But then... someone else stepped through the chaos." A shadow slipped in through the chaos. Asher. His eyes met mine, and something cold passed between us. Not warmth. Not safety. He looked at me like I was a mistake he didn’t know how to fix, but still chose to hold onto anyway. He walked through the mess like it didn’t faze him. Blood was all over the floor, bodies slumped against the walls, and yet he barely blinked. "Asher..." I breathed, unsure if I was relieved or even more terrified. Lucien turned at the sound of my voice, his gaze narrowing like he’d just noticed something venomous in the air. Of course, he’d recognize him. The room dropped in temperature the second Asher stepped fully inside. The tension thickened, making me feel suffocated. Lucien stood still, his jaw clenched with fresh blood on his knuckles. Asher’s hand curled into a loose fist by his side, his eyes flicking from Lucien to me and back again. And I sat there in the center of it all, like the war between them had already begun, and I was the price to be claimed. Asher stepped closer, but I didn’t move. I just couldn’t. Not because I trusted him... God, hell no... but because my legs wouldn’t work. Because everything around me was too overwhelming. Lucien’s stare, the blood still warm on the floor, and the echo of screams that hadn’t even settled, was pressing down on me like the room itself was shrinking. "Asher," I whispered again, but in a lower tone than before. He looked at me like he didn’t know who I was. Or maybe wished he didn’t even know me. The worst part? I didn’t blame him. We weren’t close at this point in time. But why was he there? Don’t tell me he was there for me? Asher had never cared for me before. Never showed up, even when I was bullied badly and bled alone, and never noticed when I disappeared for days. But now he stood in front of me, like some last-minute savior dragged into a fight that he didn’t wish to be a part of. "You came late," I muttered in a dry voice. His expression didn’t shift. There was not even a flicker of guilt or any hint of softness. Just... cold recognition. "I know." That was all he said. While Lucien’s silence was louder than both of us. He hadn’t moved. His presence was so powerful that it made me feel like a gun was pointed at me. I could feel his gaze on Asher— calculating and deciding if he should kill him where he stood. This increasing tenstion burned my chest that I was almost losing my breathing. I was stuck between two men who didn’t care about me the way I needed. One was blood, the other was ice. Neither was safe for me. Lucien stepped forward, the sound of his boot heel hitting the floor slicing the air in half. My breath caught. Asher raised his chin, just slightly, to look at the man. "You’re late," Lucien said, his tone deceptively calm, but I heard the venom under it. Asher didn’t blink. "I’m here now." "And you think that counts for something?" Another step. Lucien didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His presence filled the space like smoke. It was slow, suffocating, and inescapable. "I didn’t come to fight," Asher said. Lucien chuckled, "Then you’ve already lost." He said mockingly. I pressed my back to the wall, stomach twisting. The air in the room felt thinner now, like it was being pulled out of my lungs by force. This wasn’t them saving me. This was a warzone. And I was the casualty they both seemed to be claiming. "Let’s go home," Asher said, his voice flat as he ignored Lucien entirely. His eyes landed on me like I was an inconvenience and something he had to clean up after, not save. "We have a lot to talk about." Talk? Was he serious? Did I look like I was ready for a damn heart-to-heart? I could barely feel my legs. My mouth was dry like ash. I needed water, food, and hell, oxygen—not a fucking conversation. I blinked at him in disbelief, a bitter laugh almost crawling up my throat. Before I could say a word, Lucien moved. He held my hand, firm but not forceful, and he pulled me to my feet so carefully that it made my chest ache. "Let me take you to the hospital," he said in a low voice, barely above a breath—but something in it made me still. It wasn’t his usual tone.