Alaric read the sealed message twice before his face went white.
"What is it?" Seraphina asked, keeping her voice neutral.
He crumpled the paper, jaw clenched tight. "Rellineth Silver Mines. Main shaft collapsed. Workers trapped."
She felt Caelan's carefully controlled reaction ripple along their connection, not surprise but certainty.
"How bad?" she asked.
"Bad enough that if I don't leave now, people die." Alaric's hand shook slightly as he shoved the message into his coat. "And if I'm not there to handle the legal mess, House Vessant loses everything."
He turned to her, eyes hard with frustration. "This couldn't have come at a worse time."
Seraphina kept her expression sympathetic and concerned. "Of course you have to go. Those men need you."
"I don't want to leave you." His voice dropped, possessive edge sharpening. "Not here. Not with him."
Caelan stood near the courtyard entrance, face blank. Wind picked up slightly around them.
Alaric crossed the distance between them fast. Before she could step back, his hand fisted in her hair, angling her head exactly how he wanted it. The other arm locked around her waist, crushing her against him.
The kiss was brutal and claiming, his tongue invading her mouth like he owned it while his fingers dug into her scalp, holding her in place while he took what he wanted.
When he finally pulled back, his thumb traced her swollen bottom lip. "Mine," he said quietly. Loud enough for Caelan to hear.
His rage burned along their connection, barely leashed and dangerous, as wind gusted hard enough to rattle shutters.
Alaric turned to Caelan, releasing Seraphina but keeping one possessive hand on her hip. "You'll leave this estate within the hour, Duke Vorenthal. I'm trusting you to be honorable."
"Of course." Caelan's voice was flat.
Alaric looked back at Seraphina, fingers digging into her hip hard enough to bruise. "I'll return as soon as this is handled. Three days. Maybe four." His eyes held dark promise. "Wait for me. We have unfinished business."
Then he was gone, boots striking stone as he barked orders to his men. Twenty armed riders mounting up, the column forming with military precision.
Seraphina stood in the courtyard watching them leave, dust rising as hoofbeats faded into the distance.
Caelan moved to stand beside her, close but not touching. They waited until the last rider disappeared around the bend before either of them spoke.
"You're wondering if I did it," Caelan said quietly.
She turned to look at him. "Did you?"
"Yes." His answer came without hesitation or deflection, just direct honesty. "But before you ask, no one was hurt."
Seraphina's eyes sharpened. "The message said workers were trapped."
"Alaric's assumption from initial panic reports. My people timed the collapse for shift change. The damaged section was completely empty when it came down." She could feel his certainty, his careful planning. "Structural damage only. Expensive, time consuming to repair, but zero casualties."
"You planned this in advance."
"Had my operatives positioned at the mines for weeks. They've been on standby, waiting for my directive." His voice stayed level. "When my shadows reported Alaric arriving at the estate today, they executed. The timing had to be perfect, urgent enough to pull him away immediately, but safe enough that no innocent lives were at risk."
"You made sure."
"Always. I won't become the monster we're fighting."
She studied his face, reading the determination there. The absolute conviction. "You sabotaged an entire mine. For me."
"The mines are yours. They always were. Your inheritance, stolen by marriage law. I'm just helping you take them back." His voice roughened slightly. "And getting Alaric away from you for a few days so you can breathe."
Relief flooded through her. Not just that the plan had worked. That he'd told her immediately instead of letting her wonder.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For telling me right away. For not making me guess."
Caelan's hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. "No more secrets. Not between us. I learned that lesson."
The air shifted between them, charged and electric.
"Seraphina..." His voice carried warning and want tangled together.
She closed the distance, eliminating the last space between them. Her hand pressed against his chest, feeling his heart race beneath her palm.
Their lips met hungry rather than gentle, his hand sliding into her hair while her fingers curled in his shirt, pulling him closer as tension finally broke free.
They stumbled backward, his body pressing hers against the courtyard wall. She gasped into his mouth, arching into him. His hands roamed her waist, her hips, sliding up her ribcage.
Her fingers worked the fastenings of his shirt while his hands found the laces of her dress, fabric shifting as skin became exposed, his mouth moving to her throat, her collarbone, lower.
He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, still kissing and desperate as he carried her inside, barely making it to a private room before kicking the door shut behind them.
On the bed, half dressed. His shirt open, her dress unlaced and falling off her shoulders. Hands exploring bare skin, mouths everywhere. Grinding against each other, breathing ragged.
The bond sang between them, amplifying every sensation until she couldn't tell where her pleasure ended and his began.
His hand slid up her thigh, dress pushed higher. Her skin burned where he touched, the bond singing between them like a second heartbeat. His fingers teasing, exploring. She gasped his name, back arching as pleasure and magic tangled into something neither could control. Her hands fumbled with his belt, both of them lost in need.
Then Caelan froze.
His hand stilled on her bare thigh, her dress bunched around her hips. He pulled back with visible effort, breathing like he'd been running.
"Wait. We have to stop."
She was flushed, panting, her body screaming protest. "Why?"
His desire warred with his principles, raw and honest along their link.
"Not like this. Not while you're still legally his." He rested his forehead against hers, both of them trembling. "Gods, I want you. You can feel how much. But not before you're free."
His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face up. "I want you free first. Truly free. No legal chain binding you to him. No shadow between us."
He helped her sit up, fixing her dress with shaking hands. The tenderness more devastating than the passion had been.
"When you're divorced, when there's no question about who you choose..." His voice dropped, rough with promise. "Then I'll show you exactly how much I want you. I'll take my time. Make you feel everything. But not before."
Seraphina steadied herself, mind already shifting back to strategy even as her body still hummed with unfulfilled desire. "The divorce. I'm filing after I complete the final trial."
Caelan's eyes sharpened. "Whitehall Sanctum?"
"Today." Her fire-scars pulsed beneath her sleeves. "The gala was three days ago. Whitehall trial window opened at dawn today and closes at sunset. Five hours north. If we leave now, we can complete it before dark." Her jaw tightened. "If I miss today's window, I have to wait another lunar cycle, and we don't have that kind of time."
"That's cutting it close." Concern bled through their connection.
"Alaric's been tracking every move. Every absence. The mine collapse bought us maybe three days before he returns." She met his eyes directly. "I have to complete the trial while he's gone. Then file for divorce immediately. I'll use every legal avenue available to force it through before he can interfere."
Through the bond, his barely leashed patience. His willingness to wait. His absolute certainty about wanting her.
"Then I'll wait. However long it takes."
A knock interrupted. Mirelle's voice came through the door. "My lady. You have a visitor."
Seraphina and Caelan exchanged looks. Who would know they were here?
"Who is it?" Seraphina asked, smoothing her dress with hands that didn't quite tremble.
Mirelle's pause carried weight. "Lord Marcus Branthorne, my lady." She hesitated. "He says it's urgent. About the mining partnership and other business matters."
Jealousy flared hot along their connection. Tightly controlled but unmistakable.
Marcus. Here. Now.
The timing couldn't be worse. Their interrupted intimacy still hung heavy in the air. Caelan's promise to wait. Everything that had just shifted between them.
"Send him in," she said.
Caelan moved closer to her side. Protective. Possessive. Ready.
The door opened.
Marcus Branthorne stepped through, looking nothing like the polished lord who'd made his public declaration at the charity gala. His riding coat was dusty from hard travel, hair disheveled. But his eyes were sharp, assessing the situation instantly.
His gaze moved from Seraphina's slightly swollen lips to Caelan's protective stance, to the tension crackling between them. One eyebrow lifted, but he said nothing about it.
"Duchess." He bowed, then nodded to Caelan. "Duke Vorenthal."
Caelan's response was cold. Barely civil. "Branthorne."
Through the bond, his suspicion warred with acknowledgment. Marcus was an ally. A valuable one. But right now he was also an intrusion.
"I apologize for arriving unannounced," Marcus said, settling into a chair with casual confidence. "But given recent developments, I thought it best to discuss our business arrangements in person. Away from listening ears."
He pulled several documents from his coat. "Your coastal operations are secure. Sea routes open." Marcus's smile was tight. "Land routes are collapsing. My caravans refuse inland travel."
He met her eyes. "Your assets are secure for now. Merchants' guild still wants partnerships. But if the attacks spread to the coast..." He didn't need to finish.
Caelan's attention focused despite his jealousy. This affected Seraphina's safety.
"The charity foundation is expanding too," Marcus continued. "You're building real power, Seraphina. The kind that doesn't need a husband's name attached."
She felt the weight of it. Everything she'd worked for, coming together.
Marcus stood, moving closer. Not quite touching but close enough to make intent clear. "I know this complicates things. I know you're..." His eyes flicked to Caelan. "...involved. But I meant what I said at the gala."
"Marcus..." Seraphina's voice held warning.
"No, let me say this." He met her gaze directly, unflinching. "I'm not hiding how I feel. I'm not pretending friendship when I want more. You deserve honesty, not games."
His voice softened. "I know you're choosing him. I can see it. The way you stand together, the way you look at each other." He glanced at Caelan. "I'm not blind."
"Then why..." she started.
"Because I'd rather be honest and lose than lie and win." Marcus's smile was sad but genuine. "And because even if you never choose me, I'm still your ally. Your friend. Someone you can trust when everything else is burning down."
He stepped back, giving her space. "I'll keep supporting Phinia's operations. I'll keep feeding you intelligence. I'll help you destroy everyone who hurt you." His voice roughened. "But I'm not going to pretend I don't want you. That would be the real lie."
Seraphina felt warmth bloom in her chest despite everything. Marcus was uncomplicated in a way nothing else in her life was. Honest about his intentions. Loyal without demanding anything in return.
She crossed to him, placed a hand on his arm. "Thank you. For all of it. The business support, the intelligence, the honesty." She squeezed gently. "You're a good man, Marcus. A rare friend."
"Friend." He smiled ruefully. "I'll take it. For now."
Through the bond, Caelan's jealousy mixed with grudging respect. Marcus wasn't hiding his interest, but he also wasn't pushing. Wasn't making demands. Just stating truth and accepting reality.
"I should go," Marcus said. "But I wanted you to know the business side is secure, for now. When you're ready to make your move, whatever that move is, you'll have the financial independence to back it up. Alaric can't starve you out or claim your assets."
He bowed, started toward the door, then paused. "One more thing. My trade network is sending concerning reports. Demon attacks intensifying across multiple regions. Villages burned, trade routes cut."
Seraphina's blood went cold. "How bad?"
"My caravans are refusing to travel. Routes I've used for years, completely abandoned." Marcus's expression darkened. "The merchants say it's worse than they've ever seen."
The air in the room shifted. Caelan's combat instincts surged through their connection.
"How widespread?" Caelan asked, voice sharp.
"Unknown. But enough that my entire trade network is shutting down." Marcus met their eyes. "Whatever's happening out there, it's escalating fast."
He didn't need to finish the sentence.
The door closed behind him, leaving silence in his wake.
Seraphina and Caelan stood frozen, Marcus's warning settling over them like ash.
Caelan was already moving toward his communication crystal.
"Gravenor." His voice cut sharp through the static. "Demon forces attacking civilians at our ward borders. Refugees being slaughtered before they can reach sanctuary."
Gravenor's response came immediate. "Confirmed. My scouts report the same along the eastern perimeter."
"I need you to take command of the coalition forces. Push beyond the D'Lorien borders. Engage the demons in unprotected territories. Drive them back. Save as many civilians as you can."
"And you?" Gravenor's tone carried understanding.
Caelan glanced at Seraphina. "I'm escorting the Duchess to Whitehall. She'll be vulnerable during the trial. She needs protection."
A pause. Then Gravenor's voice came grim. "The demons are coordinating this. They know something's happening today."
"Which is why we split our response. You handle the demon forces. I handle her safety."
"Understood. We mobilize within the hour."
The crystal went dark.
"We leave now," Caelan said. Voice flat. Decisive.