Rain glazed the streets when Seraphine stepped out of her carriage.
Lysander had locked her inside her room for two days. He had hidden the carriage keys, ordered the staff, even stood guard himself.
But grief gives birth to cunning.
Tonight, she escaped.
She didn't come as the shattered woman Lysander had found on the floor. She came as the siren Cassian once fell for.
Her gown was a waterfall of pale blue silk, the color he once said made her eyes look like fire trapped in ice. Her hair flowed down her back in loose waves he used to stroke absentmindedly. Her lips, her cheeks, her scent… every detail was crafted with trembling hands and a heart full of desperate hope.
She stood before the gates of the Vale mansion. The guards recognized her immediately.
"My lady—"
"I want to see him," Seraphine said softly, eyes glowing like a woman with nothing left to lose. "Open the gate."
And because even the guards had once seen the way Cassian looked at her, they obeyed.
She crossed the courtyard with the grace of a queen and the wildness of a fallen angel. Her steps were soft, but her heartbeat thundered.
She entered the mansion without waiting to be announced. She knew exactly where he would be.
His study. His solitude. His escape. The place where she had once sat on his desk, laughing while he pretended not to be enchanted.
Her heels clicked down the hallway. Each step sounded like a promise.
---
Cassian stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the rain washing over the gardens.
Her gardens. Her flowers.
He didn't turn when she entered, but his shoulders tensed. It was enough to tell her he knew. He always knew when she was near.
"Cassian…" Seraphine whispered.
His breath hitched, barely. He didn't turn. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to see you."
"Seraphine…" His tone sharpened. "You shouldn't have come."
She closed the door softly behind her and approached him, slow as a haunting. "I couldn't stay away," she said. "Not like this, not after everything."
Cassian's jaw clenched. "I made things clear."
"No." Her voice cracked. "You made nothing clear."
He still wouldn't look at her. So she walked closer until she stood just behind him, near enough that her warmth brushed his back.
"Cassian… turn around."
Silence.
"Please."
Slowly, reluctantly, he turned. When he saw her, his eyes darkened with something pained.
She was beautiful. Devastatingly so. Exactly as he remembered.
"Seraphine," he whispered, her name falling from his lips like a confession. "You shouldn't be here."
She stepped closer. "You used to say my name differently," she breathed. "Say it like that again."
He looked away. She lifted a trembling hand and touched his jaw, the one Lysander had bruised.
Cassian froze.
Her fingers were gentle, almost ghost-like, tracing the mark with aching tenderness.
"He hurt you," she whispered.
"I let him."
"Why?"
"Because he was right."
Her hand trembled. She slid closer and held him tightly, close enough that her breath warmed his skin.
"Cassian… don't do this to me. Don't marry her. Don't pretend any of this was meaningless."
"You know I had no choice."
"There's always a choice," she begged. "Think of what we had. Think of what we shared. Think of every night you stayed because you said you couldn't leave me."
His eyes tightened. "Seraphine…"
"Did you lie?" Her voice broke as she looked up at him. "Tell me you lied, and I'll walk away right now."
Cassian exhaled shakily. "That's not fair."
"Nothing about this is fair!" She sobbed, grabbing his coat and pressing her forehead to his chest. "Cassian… please. Please look at me. Look at what you're doing to me."
He did. And it destroyed him.
Because she had come to him as the woman he loved most. Because she was trembling for him. Because she was begging. And because he wanted her.
Desperately.
But he stepped back. "Seraphine. Stop."
She followed, refusing to let him run. "No. Not this time. You don't get to turn away from me. Not after letting me love you, not after letting yourself love me."
His breath hitched so sharply it looked like she'd struck him. "Don't say things you can't take back," he said, voice strained.
She smiled. A broken, fragile smile. "You loved me. You may not say it, but I know it."
He said nothing. Which was answer enough.
Seraphine leaned closer, slower now. Soft as snowfall. Deadly as longing. Her lips brushed the shell of his ear, her voice turning to silk.
"Cassian," she whispered, seductive as a siren pulling a man into the sea. "Don't marry her."
He swallowed hard. She moved closer still, her breath sliding down his neck.
"Don't choose a woman you do not want." Her fingers brushed his collar. "Choose me instead."
He shut his eyes. "Seraphine…"
She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered low, intimate. "I can give you everything she cannot."
His breath shuddered.
"You know that," she murmured. "You've always known that. My body. My heart. My devotion. All of me was yours without question."
Her fingers guided his face toward hers. "And you… you never touched her the way you touched me."
Cassian opened his eyes. Pain, longing, guilt, all tangled together.
Her voice softened, warmer now. "I can be your solace. Your shelter. Your warmth." Her lips hovered dangerously close to his. "Don't throw me away for a woman you do not love."
Cassian breathed out, trembling. His hands lifted. For a moment, she believed he would pull her close and undo everything.
But instead, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back.
The softest refusal. The cruelest one.
"Seraphine…"
She stared at him, wide-eyed, trembling. "No," she whispered.
His voice cracked. "I can't."
Panic flooded her face, desperation clawing its way back. "No. Cassian, listen to me. Please."
He shook his head. "I can't choose you."
It felt like death.
Her breath collapsed. Her knees nearly buckled.
Cassian looked away, because looking at her hurt too much.
"Please leave," he whispered.
She didn't move.
"Seraphine," he said again, voice breaking. "Go. Before I do something I cannot take back."
"…Would it be so terrible," she whispered, "if you did?"
He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. "Leave," he repeated. "Please."
She stared at him.
Beautiful. Destroyed. Feral with heartbreak.
Then slowly, brokenly, she stepped back.
"You will regret this," she whispered.
Cassian flinched. But he didn't call her back. He didn't chase her. He didn't save her.
He simply turned away.
And Seraphine walked out of the mansion, out of his reach, out of his life.