For several minutes afterward, neither of us made any serious attempt to move.
Seraphina lay across me with her cheek pressed against my chest and one arm draped over my stomach, while her blonde hair had become an absolute fucking disaster.
Damp strands clung to both of us, and every time I ran my fingers through them, I found another knot that definitely hadn’t existed before we’d entered this room.
My breathing had finally returned to something resembling normal. Seraphina wasn’t quite there yet, judging by the deep breaths warming my chest every few seconds. Still, considering she’d been the one to drag me into this room emotionally unprepared for everything that followed, I wasn’t feeling particularly sympathetic.
I’d come looking for her because I wanted to talk about the seven people she’d killed, the Order that had raised her, Cassian’s final words, and the way a child hiding from her had been the first thing all afternoon to disturb her visibly.
Instead, she’d gotten onto her knees, looked up at me through half-lidded eyes, and told me not to speak.
Somewhere after that, my Succubus instincts had decided they were done letting the responsible adult make decisions.
That part was beginning to concern me.
There was still Kira, the twenty-six-year-old former author who could think rationally, exercise restraint, and occasionally consider the consequences of her actions.
Then there was whatever the fuck I became once my Succubus body crossed a certain threshold of arousal, because at some point coherent thought stopped being a requirement and instinct took over almost completely.
I should probably investigate that before it got me into trouble.
Preferably while wearing clothes.
A translucent notification materialized above Seraphina’s head before I could think about it any further.
[SUCCUBUS PHYSIOLOGY.]
[Mana Absorption Complete.]
[Total Absorbed Mana: 47]
My fingers stopped halfway through Seraphina’s hair as I stared at the number.
Forty-seven mana was a substantial increase from the eighteen I’d absorbed during our first night together. The difference made sense when I considered everything that had happened since then.
My Spirit had climbed after the Tear, dramatically increasing the efficiency of my racial ability, while Seraphina herself had undergone an equally ridiculous transformation.
I didn’t know exactly how much mana she possessed now. Still, the woman had spent this afternoon crushing a cleric beneath raw magical pressure, throwing around corrupted divine fire, and generally making trained members of the Sacred Dawn reconsider every decision that had led them into the Demon Frontier.
Apparently sleeping with the upgraded version came with benefits.
Seraphina shifted against me when my fingers remained motionless for too long. "Why did you stop?"
"System notification."
One blue eye reluctantly opened, and even half exhausted, she somehow managed to make suspicion look effortless. "Should I be concerned?"
"Probably not. I absorbed forty-seven mana."
That opened the other eye.
Seraphina lifted her head from my chest and regarded me with considerably more attention. "Forty-seven?"
"Yep."
"You only absorbed eighteen last time."
I stared at her for a moment before a grin slowly spread across my face. "You remembered."
"I remember things that concern my body, degenerate."
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it, shaking both of us enough that Seraphina immediately scowled.
"Don’t laugh."
"Sorry." I wasn’t remotely sorry, and judging by the narrowing of her eyes, she knew it. "I was starting to worry I’d permanently broken you."
"You should be significantly more concerned about whether I break you."
"That’s my Saintess."
"I’m not your Saintess."
My grin widened as Seraphina realized the mistake she’d made approximately two seconds too late. "And yet you’re still lying naked on top of me after getting on your knees and—"
Her palm covered my mouth before I could finish.
"Complete that sentence," she warned, cheeks rapidly turning pink, "and I will find out whether your new Vitality lets you survive being thrown through a wall."
I laughed directly into her hand.
Seraphina tried maintaining the glare for several seconds before the corner of her mouth betrayed her. The tiny movement became a reluctant smile, and for the first time since we’d returned to Ashfall, I saw something in her expression that wasn’t anger, emptiness, or the terrifying satisfaction she’d worn while standing among the Sacred Dawn.
My amusement gradually faded.
Seraphina noticed immediately.
Her hand slipped away from my mouth, but neither of us spoke as she settled against me again. I resumed running my fingers through her tangled hair, working slowly through the knots while the quiet between us changed from comfortable to something heavier.
This was the conversation I’d originally come here to have.
I just hadn’t expected to have it naked.
After another minute passed, I looked down at the blonde head resting against my chest. "Can I speak now?"
Seraphina released an exhausted groan without lifting her head. "Unfortunately."
That earned another smile from me, although this one disappeared quickly. I continued stroking her hair while deciding whether there was any remotely graceful way to ask the question that had followed me from the clearing.
There wasn’t.
"Do you regret what happened?"
Seraphina became still against me.
She didn’t ask what I meant, and I didn’t insult her by explaining. Several seconds passed before she answered, her voice quieter than it had been during our teasing.
"No."
There wasn’t enough hesitation for me to doubt her.
I let my fingers continue moving through her hair. "Any of them?"
This silence lasted longer.
"Cassian."
My hand slowed.
Seraphina’s fingers curled slightly against my side before she continued. "I don’t regret killing him. I regret that part of me wanted him to give me a reason not to."
That answer landed harder than I’d expected.
She raised herself slightly, enough that I could see her expression. The anger I’d watched consume her outside was gone, leaving something much older and considerably more painful behind it.
"He knew they imprisoned me, Kira. He knew what they called me. He watched them take me away, and he never asked where they were taking me." Her gaze drifted somewhere beyond me as she spoke, and the hand resting against my stomach tightened. "I spent fifteen years believing those people were my family. Fifteen years serving them, praying with them, bleeding for them, believing everything they taught me."
Her mouth tightened.
"Then they found something inside me they didn’t understand, and fifteen years meant nothing."
I remembered Cassian on his knees.
More than that, I remembered the little girl hiding behind someone’s legs when Seraphina approached Ashfall.
"You scared everyone today."
"I know."
There was no defensiveness in her answer.
I traced my hand slowly down her back. "Does that bother you?"
Seraphina didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes lowered, and I already suspected what she was thinking about before she finally spoke.
"The child did."
Of course it had.
I wasn’t going to tell her she wasn’t a monster. I’d watched what she’d done, and pretending otherwise would have reduced everything that happened outside to a comforting lie neither of us needed. Seraphina had deliberately killed people who were fleeing from her. Cassian had begged, and she’d chosen to burn him anyway.
But that wasn’t all she’d done.
"You protected her home."
Seraphina looked up at me.
"That doesn’t make everything else right," I continued, keeping my hand against her back. "But what happened today doesn’t erase everything else about you either."
Her expression shifted slightly as she studied me.
Then something seemed to occur to her.
"You’re not afraid of me."
It wasn’t really a question.
I snorted softly. "Seraphina, I knew you were going to become the Fallen Saintess before I healed you."
"You knew a title." Her eyes remained fixed on mine. "You didn’t know what it meant."
That shut me up for a moment.
"No," I admitted. "I don’t think I did."
"And now?"
I thought about the cleric collapsing beneath the weight of her mana, the fractured halo blazing behind her head, and the corrupted divine fire consuming people who had once been her family. For a few minutes outside Ashfall, I’d finally seen the woman I’d originally written—the future Calamity Roland was supposed to kill.
Then I looked at the woman lying across my chest.
The same woman who’d taken a sword meant for me inside the Sepulcher. The woman who’d kissed me first and then spent days pretending she still hated me. The woman who’d been disturbed by a frightened child even after showing no mercy to the people who’d destroyed her life.
And, admittedly, the woman who’d gotten onto her knees less than an hour ago and ordered me to shut the fuck up.
A smile tugged at my mouth.
"I think my investment is doing fucking fantastic."
Seraphina stared at me.
Her expression remained blank for perhaps half a second before she groaned and buried her face against my chest.
"You’re unbelievable."
I burst out laughing and wrapped both arms around her, earning another irritated sound that only made me laugh harder.
Seraphina went rigid against me.
"Mistress?" Lyra called from the other side. "I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s something you need to see."
I frowned at the door. "What happened?"
A brief silence followed.
"We found a merchant’s seal among Mistress Velessa’s records. It belongs to someone who used to purchase materials from Ashfall."
That got my attention. "Who?"
Lyra’s answer came through the door. "A necromancer."