CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SERAFINA
I woke to the scent of cedar and leather.
My eyelids fluttered open, heavy and a little uncooperative.
The ceiling above me came into focus first…tall, coffered, painted in a shade of cream that I’d memorized during the weeks I’d spent staring at it.
The familiarity of it made my stomach drop before my mind had fully processed what my eyes were seeing.
The perfect crown molding gazed back at me, beautiful and silent.
No. Oh God, no.
My gaze traveled downward as the room fully came into focus now, my vision no longer as blurry with unconsciousness.
The walls were deep burgundy, almost black in the dim light filtering through heavy, velvet curtains that weren’t drawn.
There was an armchair by the window, similar to the one I had sat in during those first days of my marriage as I plotted against my husband.
This was Adrian’s bedroom. In his Estate.
My heart stuttered, a violent, arrhythmic lurch that sent a wave of nausea through my gut.
I was back in New York.
I squeezed my eyes shut and a low sound of anguish escaped my throat.
How could this have happened? I turned my face against the pillow, holding back a choked cry. God, my body ached so much, a deep, bone-level exhaustion that told me I had been unconscious for some time.
How long? Hours? Days, maybe?
The last thing I remembered was the hotel room, the confrontation, the rotting truth spilling from my lips like blood from an open, festered wound.
Then nothing. A void where memory should have been.
He had…drugged me. Fuck… this wasn’t good. I shouldn’t have been back here. I couldn’t be back here, not after Adrian knew the whole truth now. About my life. My real identity.
Behind my closed eyes, I could still see Adrian’s face, shifting through shock, anger and disbelief.
He couldn’t decide if he was pissed that his wife outsmarted him or if he should be proud. Only Adrian Salvatore would find unhinged pride in my lies and deceit.
But that didn’t matter now.
He drugged me and brought me back here—back to his gilded cage, his fortress of control, the place where he had first shown me what it meant to be owned.
He’d trapped me. Again. The irony of it was so bitter I could taste it on my tongue.
How could he? How dared he?
“You will believe me, eventually.”
His words from the hotel suite echoed in my skull, hollow and mocking.
This was how he planned to make me believe him?
By removing every choice, every fragile thread of freedom I had managed to weave together?
By bringing me back to the place where I had been less his wife and more of our families’ pawn?
Hatred and rage swiveled inside me, a storm of emotions. I hate him.
I fucking loathed everything about my husband.
A soft whine cut through my thoughts and the silence of the room.
My body went rigid. Thud.
Every muscle locked into place, my breath catching in my throat, and cold, primal fear slithered through my veins. It was almost instinctive, a human reaction to recognizing the danger.
There it was again, another whine. This time it was closer.
I slowly turned my head toward the sound, and opened my eyes. My vision swam for a second, the room tilting and righting itself in a nauseating lurch.
And then I saw it. Them.
Three shapes materialized from the shadows near the foot of the bed, dark and muscular.
Adrian’s dobermans.
I recognized them instantly.
I had seen them patrolling the grounds when I lived here before, their sleek bodies moving with a predatory grace that had made my skin crawl even from a distance. Adrian’s personal guard dogs—trained to kill, to maim, to tear apart anything that he deemed as a threat.
And now they were in the room with me.
I knew their names were Shadow, Orion and Nyx… but I couldn’t tell which was which.
My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
The scream that lived in my chest remained trapped behind my teeth, locked in place by a terror so absolute it had paralyzed my vocal cords.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t…breathe.
I could lie here, helplessly pinned to the mattress by the weight of my own fear, as three sets of dark, intelligent eyes fixed on me with an attention that felt almost human.
Please stay away. Please don’t come near me.
One of them, the smallest, slowly stepped forward, approaching me with a subtle dominance. Its claws tapped against the hardwood floor—click, click, click—each sound a tiny detonation in the silence. The closer it got, I realized it was the female, Nyx.
Her ears were pricked forward, body tense, and I could see her muscles moving beneath the short, glossy coat—rippling, powerful, designed for speed and destruction. She was beautiful in the most frightening way imaginable.
She made a sound again, and this time it was softer, almost questioning. Her head tilted to one side, and something in her expression shifted.
The aggression I had expected, bared teeth and raised hackles, didn’t happen. Instead, the dog approached the bed with a cautious, almost tentative curiosity, her tail low but not tucked, her body language more uncertain than threatening.
The other two males followed, moving in tandem, their movements synchronized with the precision of animals that had been trained to work as a unit. They fanned out around the bed, positioning themselves at strategic points…one at the foot, one at the side, and Nyx nearest to my head.
God, her jaw was massive, and I knew if she wanted, she could crush bone without effort.
The weight of their combined attention pressed down on me like a physical force, heavy and suffocating.
Nyx brought her face closer to mine, and my chin wobbled with a cry, absolute terror slithering through my veins. Her lips pulled back slightly to reveal white enormous teeth. A low sound vibrated in her chest and it wasn’t quite a growl. It was more like a rumble.
A warning…or maybe a greeting.
I couldn’t tell the difference, and at that moment, the distinction didn’t matter.
I was going to die.
The thought arrived with a strange clarity…not hysterical, not panicked, but calm and certain. This was how Adrian had planned my death. For his Dobermans to eat me alive.
Did they know the taste of human flesh? Did they crave it?
Nyx placed her front paws on the mattress. The bed dipped under the weight, and it became clear to me that she was going to jump. She was going to launch itself onto the bed and—
She jumped.
I screamed.
The mattress compressed beneath the impact of sixty or so pounds of solid muscle, and I flinched so violently, my whole body convulsed.
She landed next to me. Not on me, not near my throat, not anywhere that would kill me—but beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her lithe body and smell the clean, animal scent of its sleek fur.
She lowered her head.
The movement was slow, deliberate, almost cautious. Her massive skull descended until her nose was level with my hand, which lay frozen at my side, fingers curled into the sheet.
She sniffed. Once. Twice. The wetness of her nose brushed against my knuckles, and I felt every individual hair on my body stand at attention, goosebumps peppering my skin.
I held my breath.
Her tongue came out. It was pink and warm and rough, and it dragged across the back of my hand in a single, slow stroke that left a trail of saliva on my skin.
Oh… my… God.
She licked me again. Then she pressed her head against my hand, not aggressively, but with a gentleness that bordered on pleading.
She… wanted me to touch her, to pet her…
The absurdity of it…the sheer, mind-bending contradiction of a creature built for violence displaying such tenderness broke something loose inside me.
A sound escaped my throat, something between a laugh and a sob, and her ears perked forward, her head tilting again in that questioning way.
Nyx nudged me again, almost affectionately, more insistently this time, and then settled beside me, her body pressed against my side. She made a low, rumbling sound in her chest that vibrated through the mattress.
Not a growl. A purr. She was purring.
My fingers uncurled. Slowly.
The other two had settled as well—one at the foot of the bed, curled into a tight, watchful ball, and the other sitting upright near the door, their posture alert but relaxed.
They weren’t guarding me, I realized with a dawning, bewildered understanding.
They were guarding the room. From outside threats. From anyone who might try to enter.
They were protecting me.
The thought sent a complicated shudder through me
I lifted a trembling hand and placed it on the Nyx’s head. Her fur was short and dense, warm beneath my palm, and the doberman pressed upward into the touch, her eyes half-closing in what looked unmistakably like pleasure.
I scratched behind her ear, and she made that rumbling sound again, deeper this time, her body fully relaxing against mine.
The door opened.
The dogs didn’t react. They didn’t even move. Nyx’s eyes opened, but she remained pressed against my side, her body a warm, immovable weight.
Adrian stood in the doorway.
He was dressed in dark clothing—black pants, a charcoal shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows—and he carried a tray.
“You’re awake,” he deadpanned. It wasn’t a question, just purely a matter of fact.
I said nothing.
My hand remained on the Nyx’s head, my fingers buried in her fur, and I watched him cross the room with the fluid, predatory grace that never failed to set my nerves on edge.
“Why did you bring me back here?” I asked quietly.
Adrian didn't answer immediately. He tsked under his breath as he placed the tray of food on the nightstand beside me. “Oh no, wife.” His voice was deceptively calm. You don’t get to ask the questions anymore.”
He straightened slowly. “You’ve said enough. You’ve done enough.”
He towered over me, large and imposing, his broad shoulders blocking everything else.
A low sound rumbled from the back of Nyx’s throat, almost like a threatening growl.
I glanced toward her.
She was watching Adrian. The sound came again, a soft growl. Not at me.
At him.
His eyes flickered to her and his lips curled. “Protective of her already, huh?” A dark chuckle vibrated from his chest. “Good. They will keep you company.”
My stomach tightened. “Am I your prisoner?”
His amusement disappeared, his eyes darkening with a possessiveness that I hadn't been expecting, especially not now that he knew my truth.
“No, you’re my wife,” he said simply.
“I’m not Serafina.”
Adrian stared at me for several seconds, his jaw tightening slightly. “No, you’re not,” he finally said. “But you’re still my wife.”
“Adrian—”
“And your life is still in danger,” he cut me off, his voice hardening. “More so than ever.”
He leaned closer, bracing one hand against the mattress beside me, his face only inches from mine now, his eyes dark and unwavering. “I brought you here so we can find out the truth. Together. Every truth that has tried to destroy us. Me and you. Because we're not each other's enemies.”
My pulse fluttered. Thud.
His gaze held mine. “This is war, Princess. And it has only just begun.”
THE END.