Seraphina's POV
The vampire lunged at me with inhuman speed.
I screamed, stumbling backward, but there was nowhere to run. The art room had only one door and the attacker blocked it.
His black eyes locked on my throat. Fangs extended. Blood dripping from his mouth—someone else's blood.
"You're going to die screaming," he snarled.
Then Lucien was between us.
I didn't even see him move. One moment he was across the room, the next he'd grabbed the attacker by the throat and slammed him into the wall so hard the stone cracked.
"You dare," Lucien growled, and his voice wasn't human anymore. It was the sound of something ancient and deadly. "You dare attack what's mine?"
The attacker clawed at Lucien's hand, gagging. "Viktor—wants—her dead—"
"Viktor can rot in hell."
Lucien's other hand grabbed the vampire's jaw. Then, with a sickening crack, he twisted.
The attacker's head came off his body.
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. Blood sprayed across the paintings, across Lucien, across everything. The headless body dropped to the floor, already turning gray and crumbling to ash.
Lucien stood there, covered in blood, holding the severed head. His silver eyes blazed so bright they looked white. His fangs were fully extended—longer and sharper than I'd imagined.
He looked like death itself.
Then his eyes found mine, and I saw fear flash across his face.
"Seraphina—" He dropped the head, which also crumbled to ash. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that."
My whole body shook. Not from fear of Lucien, but from the adrenaline crashing through me. I'd almost died. If Lucien had been one second slower—
"Are you hurt?" Lucien crossed to me in two strides, his hands hovering over me like he wanted to touch but was afraid to. "Did he touch you? Did he—"
"I'm fine." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "You saved me."
"I should have anticipated this. Viktor's been looking for weakness since I took the throne. Of course he'd target you." Lucien's jaw clenched. "I put you in danger just by bringing you here."
"You didn't bring me. The treaty did."
"The treaty." He laughed bitterly. "A convenient excuse to offer you up like a sacrifice."
More footsteps pounded down the hallway. Guards burst into the room, weapons drawn, then froze when they saw the scene.
"Your Majesty," the lead guard said, taking in the blood and ash. "What happened?"
"Viktor Shadowmere sent an assassin." Lucien's voice was cold, commanding. "Double the palace guard. No one enters or leaves without my permission. And someone find out how this bastard got past our defenses."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The guards hurried away. Lucien turned back to me, and the commanding king disappeared. In his place was the vulnerable man from the garden.
"Come," he said softly, holding out his hand. "You're not staying in your chambers tonight. It's not safe."
"Where am I going?"
"My chambers. Where I can protect you."
My heart skipped. "Lucien—"
"Please." His silver eyes met mine, pleading. "I can't lose you. Not like this. Not because I was too proud to keep you close."
I took his hand.
He led me through the palace, moving so fast I had to run to keep up. Vampires we passed stared, whispering, but Lucien ignored them all.
His chambers were at the top of the highest tower—behind three locked doors and what looked like magical wards that glowed faintly when we passed through them.
Inside, the room was sparse. A massive bed. A desk covered in papers. Bookshelves lining one wall. And a window that overlooked the entire kingdom of Valthoria.
"Sit," Lucien said, gesturing to the bed. "I need to clean up."
He disappeared into an adjoining room. I heard water running.
I sat on the edge of his bed, my hands still shaking. The reality of what almost happened crashed over me. That vampire had wanted to kill me. Would have killed me if Lucien hadn't—
The image of him ripping the attacker's head off flashed through my mind.
Most women would be terrified. Should be terrified.
But all I felt was grateful. And strangely... safe.
Lucien emerged from the bathroom wearing clean black clothes, his hair damp, the blood washed away. He looked like the prince again, not the monster.
"I terrified you," he said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "You saw what I really am. A killer. A creature who rips people apart with his bare hands."
"You saved my life."
"I also enjoyed it." His voice was raw. "When I saw him going for you, something in me snapped. All I wanted was to tear him into pieces. And when I did—" He closed his eyes. "I felt satisfaction. Does that make me a monster?"
I stood and crossed to him. "It makes you someone who protected what matters to you."
"You matter to me." The confession came out like he'd been holding it back. "It's been four days and you already matter more than you should. More than is safe."
Through the blood bond, I felt his emotions—fear and want and desperate need all tangled together.
"I matter to you because I look like her," I said, needing to hear the truth.
"No." Lucien cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. "At first, yes. But now? Seraphina, you're nothing like Arianne. She was gentle, artistic, quiet. You're fierce and bold and you look at death and laugh. You make me want to fight fate itself."
"But I'm still dying."
"I know." His thumb traced my cheekbone. "Twenty-two days left. Every single one of them precious. And I'll spend every moment keeping you safe."
The bond between us flared hot and bright. I could feel everything he felt—his terror of losing me, his fury at Viktor for threatening me, his desperate wish that he could save me from the tumor the way he'd saved me from the assassin.
And underneath it all—want. So much want it made my knees weak.
"Lucien," I whispered. "The bond—I can feel everything you're feeling."
"I know. I feel you too." His voice dropped lower. "Your fear. Your gratitude. And your want."
Heat flooded my face. "I—"
"Don't be embarrassed." He leaned closer, his lips near my ear. "Do you know what it does to me? Feeling your desire through the bond? Knowing you want me as much as I want you?"
My breath came faster. "This is happening too fast."
"You have three weeks. We don't have time for slow."
He was right. I didn't have time for slow courtship or playing games or pretending I didn't want him.
I had twenty-two days. Maybe less.
And I wanted to spend them feeling alive.
"Kiss me," I said.
Lucien's silver eyes blazed. "If I kiss you now, I won't stop. Not tonight. Are you sure?"
Was I sure? I was dying. My bucket list literally included "make love to someone." And Lucien Nightshade—devastatingly beautiful, fiercely protective, desperately lonely Lucien—was offering me exactly what I wanted.
"I'm sure."
He kissed me with an intensity that stole my breath. Not rough like in the garden, but deep and thorough, like he was claiming me. His hands slid into my hair, tilting my head back so he could deepen the kiss.
Through the bond, I felt his control slipping. The want overwhelming everything else.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"Last chance to stop this," he said, his voice rough.
Instead of answering, I reached up and pulled the pins from my hair, letting it fall loose down my back.
Something dark and hungry flashed in his eyes.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured.
"Funny. I'm supposed to be the one dying."
He laughed—actually laughed—and the sound was so beautiful it made my chest ache.
Then he kissed me again, and this time there was no hesitation. His hands moved to the laces of my dress, fingers working them loose with practiced ease.
"Tell me if you want to stop," he whispered against my lips. "At any time. I'll stop."
"I won't want to stop."
"Good."
The dress slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my feet. Cool air hit my skin, making me shiver. But Lucien's eyes on me burned hotter than any fire.
"Beautiful," he breathed. "So beautiful."
He picked me up—vampire strength making me weightless—and carried me to the bed. Laid me down gently like I was something precious.
Then he stood there, looking at me with such raw hunger and tenderness mixed together that I felt it through the bond like a physical touch.
"Seraphina," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Are you absolutely certain? Because once we do this, once I make you truly mine, I won't be able to let you go. Even when—"
"Even when I die," I finished. "I know."
"And you still want this?"
I reached up, pulling him down to me. "I want everything. Every moment. Every touch. Every kiss. All of it."
"Then you'll have it." He kissed me again, deeper this time. "Every single thing you want, I'll give you."
The bond between us exploded wide open—his emotions and mine crashing together until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began.
Want. Need. Desperate longing. And underneath it all, something that felt dangerously close to love.
We had twenty-two days.
But tonight, wrapped in Lucien's arms, the bond burning bright between us, it felt like forever.
I woke to someone screaming.
No—multiple people screaming.
Lucien was already off the bed, fangs extended, eyes blazing silver-white. "Stay here."
"What's happening?"
The screaming got louder. Closer.
Then the door burst open.
Elena stood there, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror.
"Your Majesty," she gasped. "It's Lady Morgana. She's demanding to see the human bride. She knows about the attack. She's claiming—" Elena's voice broke. "She's claiming Seraphina is a threat to the entire kingdom and must be executed immediately."