Chapter Twenty-One
Seraphine
The beep of the heart monitor was the only sound I could focus on in the ICU room. Each beep was a reminder that Valen had made it out of that house alive.
We both had, but just barely.
I sat in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed, holding his hand, begging him to wake up. I’d even said a prayer to God and the Devil, because I wasn’t taking any chances. There might have been some soul-bargaining, mine for his, so long as he got to see another day.
Valen’s face was pale under the oxygen mask; tubes and wires connected him to machines that were keeping him in stable condition.
The doctors said he’d lost a lot of blood, and the bullet to his thigh had nicked an artery.
If help had come a few minutes later than it had, he probably wouldn’t have made it.
The thought alone was enough to make me tear up.
“You know, you stubborn Viking bastard,” I whispered, squeezing his fingers, “after everything that we’ve been through, you don’t get to die. Not now. I refuse to let you leave me like this.”
Three fucking days. Three days since I’d been kidnapped and taken to the basement of my old sorority house, since I’d driven that wooden knife into Cyrus’s neck, since Valen had almost died in my arms right as the police showed up.
Detective Flores had found us there, covered in blood, me holding onto Valen while he drifted in and out of consciousness. Luckily, he’d already called in the paramedics.
Later at the hospital while Valen was in surgery, Flores told me about all the evidence they’d found in Cyrus’s hotel room.
The evidence… it was one of the most disturbing parts of the aftermath of all this.
Cyrus’s hotel room had been a shrine to his obsession.
Photos of me from the past six years, taken without me even knowing.
The realization had chilled me to the bone, knowing that he’d been watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
He had pictures of Valen from prison, but Flores could only speculate they’d come from corrupt guards.
He also had almost every single newspaper article about us, from the trial, to Valen’s exoneration, to the sleazy tabloid that had run a special on my Instagram identity reveal.
But the worst part of it all was the trophies. Items that had belonged to all the victims, including my sorority sisters. He even had my sketchbook that I’d been drawing in that night. It had never occurred to me to look for it. I’d just assumed the police had taken it into evidence.
Judith had confessed to everything within hours of being arrested.
She’d met Cyrus at Willowbrook where she worked as a nurse.
She said he’d manipulated her, made her believe he loved her, and convinced her he was just misunderstood.
Eventually, she’d helped him slip out of the facility to commit the murders, because it was “true love no matter how sick it was.”
Psychotic bitch.
On another disturbing note, Franklin Morris had hanged himself in his cell when he found out Cyrus was dead. Apparently, he was so obsessed with being Cyrus that he had to be dead like him too.
The whole thing was a testament to Cyrus’s ability to manipulate people, to twist their devotion into something dark, just like he was.
But none of that mattered anymore, because it was over. Really, truly over now.
I focused on the rise and fall of Valen’s chest, something aching softly inside of me at how peaceful he looked for once.
Please wake up.
“It’s different this time, Valen.” I brought his hand up, kissing his knuckles.
“I was terrified when it was happening, and then so fucking angry… but I’m not destroyed by it.
I’m not broken. I fought back because I had you to live for, and I saved us.
And I’m not going to spend any more years apologizing for surviving. ”
The door opened behind me, and I turned as Emmeline walked in with coffee and a bag of pastries.
She’d flown in from Chicago the moment she’d heard what happened.
I’d told her everything, from me making myself bait to falling in love with Valen.
She’d been mad, but only because I hadn’t included her in the murder plan.
Apparently, she would have been more than happy to help me kill Cyrus, which had only made me cry harder.
Her gaze traveled over Valen, and she sighed as she plopped down into the chair beside me. “No changes yet?”
“Not yet. But the doctors say his vitals are strong. He just needs some time.” I studied her face, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the way she kept checking her phone. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you now? You’ve been off ever since you got here.”
She rubbed her forehead, shaking her head. “Just worried about you, babe, this whole thing has been chaotic…” Her voice trailed off.
“I know you, Em, something’s got your mind working overtime.”
Before she could answer, Valen’s fingers twitched in my hand, making me gasp. His eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly. He blinked several times, like he was trying to focus, then turned his head toward me.
“Little lamb,” he rasped through the oxygen mask.
It was like the weight of a thousand stones lifted from my body at once. The relief that flooded through me was so fierce that tears instantly sprang to my eyes. I jumped from my chair, leaning over him. “Hey, there, Viking overlord. Welcome back.”
He tried to sit up, his face scrunching up in pain. I gently pushed him back down, shaking my head. “Easy there. You’ve been unconscious for three days and lost a lot of blood.” I pressed the nurses’ call button, needing them to come check on him now that he was awake.
“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me. He’s dead, Valen. Cyrus’s dead. It’s over.” God, those words felt good to say out loud.
Something shifted in his expression, like a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “Good,” he whispered.
Emmeline cleared her throat from her chair. “Well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living.” She stood and moved closer to the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you if you hurt my friend, I would kill you. So, you’re lucky you survived this, Creed.”
Valen nodded, his hand squeezing mine. “Noted.”
“I mean it,” Emmeline continued, but her tone was softer now. “Seraphine’s been sitting here for three days straight, refusing to leave your side, barely eating, definitely not sleeping. If you scare her like this again…”
“I won’t.” Valen’s gaze returned to me. “I promise.”
The tears I’d been trying to hold in came spilling down. But they weren’t tears from fear or worry, they were tears of gratitude.
“I’m so mad at you,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his. “You tried to leave me… after everything…”
“Never,” he said fiercely. “I told you I’d find you in any lifetime. I’m not going anywhere, little lamb.”
“Good, because I love you so much, Valen.”
“I love you too,” he whispered back. “Always.”
And for the first time in six years, I finally believed that everything was going to be OK.
*** ***
Two Weeks Later
I stood in front of my easel in the cabin’s living room, studying the painting I’d just finished. Sunflowers. Dozens of them with their faces turned toward a brilliant sunrise. For the first time in a long time, I’d painted pure joy.
No hidden darkness lurked, no subtle hints of trauma or grief. Just something beautiful for the sake of beauty.
“That’s stunning,” Valen murmured from behind me.
I turned to find him leaning in the doorway, still favoring his injured leg, but getting stronger with each day that passed. The cane he was holding was one he’d carved himself during his recovery. It was beautiful, just like everything else he made.
“You think so?” I asked.
His eyes didn’t waver as he walked over to me. “I know so.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist, his lips brushing mine with a slowness that stole my breath away. There was no urgency, no rage or darkness, just love.
I kissed him back, gasping when he nipped my bottom lip gently. “Valen, we shouldn’t,” I moaned.
“Shh, let me love you.” His fingers weaved through my hair as he deepened the kiss, and I whimpered against his lips.
Slowly he walked us backwards until we got to the couch. I guided him down, leaning over him in a way that made his brows crease. Like he was about to argue about who was in control, but he didn’t.
“It’s my turn to love you, my Viking overlord.” I grinned at the way his mouth softened.
Careful not to hurt his leg any further, I lifted my dress and straddled him on the couch. His breath caught when I settled over him and his hands found me bare underneath the fabric.
“No panties?” he whispered. “Perfect.”
I smiled against his lips as I lowered myself, taking him inside of me.
It was like the world went quiet in that moment, and it was just me and him and the pounding of our hearts in the silence.
His fingers tightened on my hips as I sank the rest of the way, savoring the feeling of being full of him.
“So beautiful, little lamb.” He pressed his lips to mine so gently I wanted to cry.
I moved slowly, being mindful of his thigh, not wanting to hurt him. My breath shuddered as he tried to pick up the pace, his eyes never leaving mine, but I kept riding him slowly.
“Seraphine…” He breathed my name from deep in his chest, like it was painful to say. His hands flexed on my hips, and I could sense him unraveling after a few minutes.
“Come inside me, Valen. I need you,” I whimpered, still keeping my pace slow and steady.
“Fuck, Seraphine. I love you so much.” He weaved his fingers through my hair, pulling me down for a long wet kiss.
His mouth was slow and all-consuming, and when he finally came apart, it wasn’t dark or brutal.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever experienced.
*** ***
The drive to the cemetery later that day was quiet and peaceful, the sun setting just over the mountains, blanketing the snow in a golden hue.
Valen parked near the entrance and squeezed my hand. “I’ll wait here. Take all the time you need.”
The headstones were easier to find than I’d expected. Courtney Thorgen, Sylvie Dutchess, Libby Chen, Jordan Silva, and Maya Green. Five women who’d had their whole lives ahead of them.
I kneeled in the snow, placing a small bouquet of flowers on each of their graves.
“Hi, guys,” I said. “I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry I stayed away so long. I was afraid… afraid that visiting you would make it all real again. But it’s already real, isn’t it? Has been for six years.”
I took a shaky breath, letting the feeling of being with my friends for the first time in six years wash over me.
“I wanted to tell you that I got him. Cyrus Creed. I killed him, and he’ll never be able to hurt anyone again.” I touched Courtney’s headstone, tracing her name with my fingers. “I also wanted to tell you that I’m not just surviving anymore. I’m actually living again.”
I glanced over my shoulder to where Valen was waiting patiently for me.
“I found someone. Someone who sees all the broken parts of me and loves me anyway. Someone who makes me feel safe enough to breathe again. He makes me feel fearless. He makes me feel whole. He’s given me back all the pieces of me I thought I’d lost. I think you would have liked him.”
I laughed softly, imagining my sorority sisters meeting Valen, probably ganging up on him and giving him the third degree about his intentions.
“I’m not saying goodbye,” I whispered. “Because you’ll always be a part of me. But I am saying thank you. For being my friends. For loving me. For giving me something worth fighting for when I had nothing left.”
I stood slowly, wiping the snow from my knees.
“I promise I’ll be happy. Not just for me, but for all of you. I’ll live loudly, love wildly, and paint until my hands ache. I’ll live enough for all of us.”
The ache of losing them would never leave, but I’d stopped letting it drown me. It no longer chained me to the past, weighing me down. I’d carried death around for far too long, and now I was ready to let love consume me instead.
Valen looked up when I slid into the passenger seat, his eyes searching my face. “Are you OK?”
“I’m better than OK.” I rested my head on his shoulder.
He reached over and took my hand, intertwining our fingers. “Let’s go home, little lamb.”
As we drove home, snow began to fall softly on the windshield. I thought back to the night I’d crashed into his mountain. How I’d been driving toward what I thought was my death, and instead I’d found my life.
“What are you thinking about?” Valen asked as we drove down the winding road.
“Just thinking how most women don’t fall in love with their captors after trying to drug them with crushed sleeping pills.” I laughed.
“I saw that coming a mile away, you know.” He winked at me, giving my hand a squeeze.
“You did not,” I scoffed. “I was so sneaky.”
“Little lamb, you pulled the pills out at least twice. Then crushed them with a spoon. Loudly.” His laugh filled the entire car, making my heart do that thing it did when he was happy.
“Oh, stop.” I smacked his arm, pretending to pull away.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He grinned, yanking me back over to him. “Don’t you know you can never get away from me?”
“Lucky for you, I don’t want to.”
The cabin’s lights appeared through the falling snow, and now I finally understood what home really meant.
It wasn’t a place at all.
It was him.
It was the two of us.
Messy, scarred, alive.
Stitched together by love and darkness.
Forever.