The first attempt on my life was… sloppy.
It came just past midnight, when the palace was quiet and the lanterns burned low. The gardens were empty except for the soft ripple of water and the faint scent of lotus.
I was walking alone.
Not because I had to.
Because I wanted to see who would bite.
The thread snapped before the blade even moved.
Three shadows slid out from behind a marble archway. Their cultivation was decent. Their killing intent was not.
I sighed. "Kael is getting desperate."
Steel flashed.
I stepped aside without breaking stride. One assassin missed by a hair's breadth. Another froze mid‑lunge as I wrapped invisible pressure around his spine. The third collapsed as his own killing intent rebounded against him.
I didn't even draw a weapon.
"Pathetic," I muttered.
Seraphina arrived first.
She didn't shout.
She didn't hesitate.
She moved like a silver blur, her emerald eyes burning with something dark and protective.
"You're bleeding," she said, noticing a shallow cut on my sleeve.
"It's not my blood."
Her gaze dropped to the assassins. The look she gave them was not fear.
It was murder.
"Who sent you?" she demanded, her aura flaring.
One of them tried to laugh.
She pressed her foot down on his chest.
The sound of cracking ribs echoed through the garden.
"Don't make me ask again."
I rested a hand on her shoulder. "Easy."
She turned to me instantly, anger melting into worry. "You shouldn't be walking alone."
"I wasn't."
She blinked.
"…I was with you," I finished.
Her lips parted. Then she nodded slowly. "That's better."
Mireya and Liara arrived seconds later, weapons half‑drawn.
Mireya scanned the scene. "Kael?"
"Of course."
Liara crossed her arms. "He's really bad at this."
"Heroes always are," I said.
The guards finally rushed in, far too late.
"Take them," I ordered. "Alive."
They were dragged away, whimpering.
Seraphina stayed glued to my side, gripping my sleeve like she was afraid I'd vanish.
"You're not allowed to get hurt," she said quietly.
"I wasn't planning to."
"That's not the point."
I looked at her. Her jealousy, her possessiveness, her devotion—all of it burned plainly in her eyes.
"You belong to me," she whispered.
"And you to me."
That was enough to make her breathe again.
Later, in my chambers, the mood shifted.
Not to fear.
To closeness.
Seraphina sat beside me on the couch, checking the tiny tear in my robe as if it were a mortal wound. Mireya leaned against the window, watching us with faint amusement. Liara sprawled across the cushions, relaxed now that the danger had passed.
"You could have called us," Liara said. "We like playing the heroes sometimes too."
"I know," I replied. "But I also like watching who's brave enough to try."
Mireya smiled faintly. "You enjoy being hunted."
"Only because I know who's doing the protecting."
Seraphina's fingers tightened slightly around my arm.
"I don't like sharing that role."
"You don't have to," I said softly. "You're the one who reaches me first."
She flushed.
Outside, Kael sat alone, staring at the burning symbol he had just received.
Assassination failed.
His hands shook.
He wasn't just losing allies now.
He was losing control.
And he knew exactly whose fault it was.
🐉
