Page 85 of Claimed By Stone
Khuldruk shot to his feet, spinning toward the bars just as a guard ran past, eyes wide.
“What the?—”
The stranger across from me was forgotten, to be dealt with later.
And then her voice rang out, clear and commanding as sunlight, "He is my mate. And I will see him now."
Chapter 37
Seraphina
The moment I stepped into the dungeon, the hush that fell over the stone corridor was almost reverent. Light pulsed from beneath my skin—soft golden threads winding through the marbled patterns that still lingered on my body. I didn’t know what I expected, but the look on Thavros’s face undid me.
He stood instantly, eyes wide, mouth parting on a gasp. “Seraphina?”
I nodded once, calm but resolute. “I’m here.”
Khuldruk stared between us, stunned, until I met his eyes. “Let him out.”
There was a heartbeat of hesitation before he gave a sharp nod to the guard at the door. The key scraped against the lock until it clicked open with a thunk. When the cell opened, Thavros crossed to me like he couldn’t believe I was real. His hands rose, but didn’t quite touch me yet.
“I saw the light,” he murmured. “I thought… I hoped…”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, letting my hand wrap around his. “Not without you."
He dropped his forehead to mine in reverence.
"I made a promise not to leave without you again, and I mean to keep that promise," I said, leaning into my mate, my orc.
Khuldruk cleared his throat, eyes still fixed on the glow that shimmered along my collarbone. “What happened to you?”
“A great deal,” I said, gently. “But I’ll explain everything. We should return to the war room.”
Khuldruk nodded slowly, then turned to one of the guards. “Send word to Frema. Tell her to meet us there.”
Thavros hadn’t stopped looking at me, and when I glanced back at him, he finally reached for my hand again, this time with surety. Our fingers twined together.
Neither of us spoke as we walked. The mountain halls felt different, quieter somehow, though I knew it was just the echoes of everything we’d survived. As we neared the doors to the war room, I could feel the crystal pulsing ahead of us. It was time.
The moment we stepped into the war room, my breath caught.
The great round table stood at the center; the crystal was shattered into jagged pieces and glittering dust. Thavros and Khuldruk moved without speaking, lifting the fractured pedestal and setting it aside. Beneath it, the remnants of the crystal sparkled like a galaxy scattered across dark stone.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of tiny shards pulsed with color. Not one hue, but many. Blues faded into golds, flashes of green and violet, each one glowing and then dimming in slow rhythm like the crystal was trying to breathe.
“They’re… alive,” I whispered.
Thavros turned to me, his brows drawn in awe. “Or reacting to something.”
“Or someone,” Khuldruk muttered.
The heavy doors opened behind us, and Frema swept in, flanked by an elder I didn’t know and a healer whose eyes immediately found me.
She stopped short, mouth slightly agape.
“Well,” Frema said after a long pause, hands settling on her hips. “Seems we won’t be needing your skills today.”
The healer nodded, clearly stunned, and stepped back. The elder, taller, and draped in ceremonial beads, stared at me with narrowed eyes but said nothing.
