Chapter 22 Seraphina
Seraphina
Iwoke slowly, expecting the warmth of Thavros beside me, the weight of his arm draped across my belly, his breath on my shoulder.
But the bed was cold.
For one fleeting, panicked moment, I thought it had all been a dream—that I had turned to stone again, that I was alone.
The quiet scratch of a quill pulled my attention.
I sat up, blinking toward the far side of the chamber. He was seated at the table, hunched over a scroll, the firelight from the hearth painting golden lines across his bare shoulders. He was still shirtless, his thick braid tied back with leather, and his brow furrowed in deep concentration.
Something tugged at my chest. Even after a night of making love, after everything we’d shared, he was already back to trying to solve the mystery of me.
As if sensing my eyes on him, he looked up.
The moment his gaze found mine, all that intensity softened. He set the quill aside and crossed the room in a few large strides, kneeling beside the bed.
“You should still be resting,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against my forehead.
I cupped his cheek. “I was warmer with you here.”
He chuckled, low and rough. “I hated to leave you, but I wanted to get a jump on some research. How are you feeling this morning?”
Then, as if he hadn’t spent the last hour poring over texts, he poured me tea, coaxing me to drink, settling beside me, kissing the top of my head. "Here, drink this. This tea will help you from becoming with child until you decide you would like one."
"Do you want a child with me?" I say to him coyly before taking a sip.
The look of confusion on his face makes me smile. "I want nothing more."
I had been joking, but something about his swift answer calmed me more than the tea.
"Isn't that a little soon?" I joked.
"Not for orcs. You are mine, Seraphina. Mine to care for, love, and fill this soft belly full of orcs," he pressed a kiss to my belly. "Whenever you decide, of course."
"It’s that simple?" I asked, taking another sip of tea.
"I don’t think what is going on between us is simple by any stretch of the imagination. But my feelings for you, those are incredibly simple, my love, you are mine."
I settle into him and his words. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear them. I didn’t know how deeply I ached to be loved without condition until this orc showed me. I only pray to the Gods to be deserving of him.
After a moment, he slipped from the bed and began to get dressed.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s take breakfast in the study. We can work while we eat.”
We took our breakfast to the study, our study, really. The war room still bore the bones of its tactical past, but now it felt like something gentler, wrapped in the rhythm of quiet mornings and whispered laughter.
He moved around the room with purpose, setting scrolls aside and unfurling new ones.
The table was littered with open tomes and hand-sketched diagrams. Even the crystal at the center of the large round stone table below pulsed softly beneath them, as if echoing the strange, blooming energy that lived in my chest.
“This one mentions divine lineage rituals,” Thavros said, tapping the margin of an aged parchment. “It’s old. Pre-crystal wars, I think.”
I sipped my tea and leaned closer, letting the comfort of the space anchor me. This was where I had first truly seen him while he poured over maps, full of silent strength and duty. And now he looked at me like I was the most important puzzle of all.
“If only it could tell us where I came from. Who could have done this? I hate not knowing who I truly am.”
He looked up, his eyes soft. “You’re Seraphina. That’s enough for me.”
But still, he kept searching.
I wandered over to the railing, watching the crystals glow, "What do you know about your crystal? Maybe I learned more of your clan's specific magic; it might answer some questions."
Thavros joined her on the balcony above, looking at the crystal below.
"We are the Cridhe Clan. Our crystal is a gift of Aphrodite, which is why our magic is born in the mating bond. The more orcs who share in the bond, the greater our magic flows. It was nearly out before Khuldruk found Callie, but its magic is beginning to glow stronger every day."
"Are there more mated pairs?" I ask.
"No, not yet. My parents were the last."
I nodded, taking in the new information. "Why did you stop finding mates?"
"That is another problem I have yet to solve, but with our magic returning, I'm hopeful we will be able to fix it.
With Khuldruk and –" His eyes snapped to me.
"It doesn't matter. That is a problem for another day.
First, we must solve this beautiful puzzle," he said as he pulled me in close for a kiss.
"Now, I'm going to get back to researching," he said before kissing me once more on the head and returning to his table full of scrolls and tomes.
As he returned to the table, I walked over to the statue’s base, my base. The curve of the marble that had held my form, the ghost of stillness lingering in the stone. There it was, the golden glowing Godling inscription that had sent me reeling yesterday.
I needed to tell him this, too, if we had any hope.
“Thavros, I have to show you something. There’s something here,” I said, crouching to brush my fingertips over the faint etching near the pedestal. “This is what triggered the memory yesterday.”
Thavros came to my side, crouching low beside me, his brows knit tight in thought. The divine script shimmered faintly in the morning light—subtle, but unmistakable.
“I couldn’t read it at first,” I admitted. “But when I touched it… It was like a door opening in my mind.”
“What does it say?” he asked, voice reverent.
I hesitated, tracing the letters. “It’s not a sentence.
More like… a title. A name. Followed by a riddle,” I swallowed.
“It says Child of Fire and Flesh. Of Lineage Divine.” Then I showed him the words written even smaller beneath that.
“This here,” I said as I let my fingers trace the golden scrawl.
“It says One road births ruin in fire’s breath, The other weaves love to conquer death. ”
I wanted to look up at him to see what he had to say, but I didn’t dare. These words once again stirred the awful feeling that something terrible was going to happen.
Thavros stayed silent, but I felt the shift in him. His breath slowed. His presence wrapped around me like a shield.
“After I read these words, I remembered,” I whispered. “Pain. Voices trying to change me. Like someone was inside my mind, whispering lies over and over again.”
His hand found mine, strong and steady. I leaned into it, needed his support. I was afraid of what else I might remember.
My voice hitched as I remembered. "They tortured me," I said in a low whisper.
I felt the change in him the moment I said the word torture—his breath caught, his shoulders tensed, and the hand that had been holding mine curled into a fist on his knee.
“I’m alright now,” I said quickly, reaching up to touch his face. “Really.”
His jaw flexed, and his gaze searched mine like he was trying to determine if I was lying to protect him or myself.
“I don’t need you to be alright,” he said, voice rough. “I need you to be safe. I need you to never go through something like that again.”
“I won’t,” I whispered. “Not as long as I’m here. Not as long as I have you.”
But we both knew that safety wasn’t something either of us could promise. Not with memories still buried in the dark. Not with magic that pulsed through my blood like a ticking clock.
Even so, I leaned into him. Even so, he wrapped his arm around me, holding me like I wasn’t a threat but a treasure he couldn’t bear to lose.
The door opened beneath us as the sound of footsteps entered the war room below.
Khuldruk’s voice echoed through the halls. “Thavros. We have news,” he called out as he entered the room below them with what sounded like a handful of other orcs.
Seraphina turned to him with a questioning look.
“I’ll come with you,” she said softly.
Thavros hesitated. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He nodded, offering her his hand.
By the time they reached the round table, Frema had already arrived, dust clinging to her leathers like she’d ridden hard through the night. Callie greeted them with a bright smile.
“Hello again, I was coming to see if you wanted to walk with me to the stables?” she asked.
I looked to Thavros. The edge of his mouth curled up in half a smile. I knew I could go with Callie or stay here. Staying here meant sharing what we had learned, but I was beginning to think it was time to face the music.
“Actually, I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind.”
Khuldruk arched a brow but said nothing, allowing her to take a seat beside Thavros.
“Okay, suit yourself,” Callie said as she walked over to Khuldruk. “Come find me when you're done.”
“Of course, my pet,” he said before kissing her.
Callie turned to leave, and anxiety began to wrap around me until Thavros put his large, warm hand on my knee.
Frema wasted no time. “We’ve confirmed the rumors,” she said, dropping a sealed scroll onto the table. “The statue, the one that held Seraphina, was a gift from the Westerly Clan. Given just before the death of our parents.”
Silence fell like a hammer. Khuldruk’s jaw clenched. Thavros didn’t move, but Seraphina felt the tension ripple through him like a coming storm.
“There’s more,” Frema continued. “There are whispers now, not just of political dealings or bribes, but of… something darker. People are being turned. Brainwashed. A trusted member of the werewolf pack, someone who’d lived among them for years, suddenly opened the gates to Westerly raiders.
Said they heard the ‘true call’ and turned on their own. ”
“And you believe this?” Khuldruk asked, voice low and dangerous.