Chapter 6 Kieran's Pov

The only thing that stayed with me was the blood.

​Not the thunder of the gunshots, or the screams that tore through the cemetery’s peace. 

​It was that dark splash on the pale marble near her feet. Seraphina’s blood.

​The image was burned against the back of my eyelids. Every time I blinked, I saw the crimson stain on the white canvas of my failure. I had moved on instinct, following my muscle memory to prioritize the objective. 

I had pivoted toward Celeste, shielding her with my body. I remembered the frantic weight of her against my chest, the way her breath hitched into a sob against my neck.

​In that split second, I had made a calculation. Celeste was the vulnerability, while Seraphina was always the one who stood on her own.

​I had calculated wrong.

​I remembered Ethan dragging Margaret away as I issued the orders to security to get Daniel out. I had watched my son handed off, like a small, trembling bundle being tucked into the backseat of a car. 

He was safe, I had ensured the line of succession.

​That was the duty of a father, wasn’t it? I had protected the heir. I had done everything right by the book.

​So why did the image of Seraphina bleeding feel like a death sentence? 

I had seen her fall when that masked shadow loom over her, and I had been too far. Too goddamn far.

I was still planning how to get to her, when a stranger had appeared.

His movements were precise, brutal, and terrifyingly efficient. He dismantled the attacker in a heartbeat, his entire frame angled toward Seraphina as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. He hadn't hesitated before pulling her into the hollow of his shoulder, shielding her with a possessiveness that made my lungs freeze.

​He held her like she was the only thing worth saving in that graveyard of ghosts.

​By the time I reached them, the stranger was already retreating, his eyes scanning for threats with a predator’s focus. He didn't say a word to me, but his silence was a roar: I did what you were too busy to do.

​Seraphina had looked so small and pale behind him, her dress sodden with a deepening red. Her eyes were wide, glassy, but they weren't looking for me. They were locked on the empty space where Daniel had been.

​I had called her name, but she didn't even react.

​Now, the hospital lights hummed overhead with a buzz. I stood against the corridor wall, my hands clenched so tight my knuckles turned white, replaying the tape of the afternoon over and over. Every second I spent rewriting the scene in my head, she still ended up on the ground.

​A few seats away, Celeste sat wrapped in a blanket. My mother and Margaret paced the tiles, while Ethan’s voice rose in a heated, jagged argument with the security chief.

​I barely heard them. The noise of the world was irrelevant when the silence of my own conscience was this loud.

​Then, the door hissed open.

​Seraphina stepped out. She moved with a stiffness, with one arm heavily bandaged and a dark violet bruise blooming on her cheekbone. Her hair was a tangled mess; her dress was gone, replaced by oversized hospital scrubs that made her look painfully fragile.

​She looked... hollow. Like the fire that usually burned in her eyes had been snuffed out completely. 

​Margaret rushed forward, “Seraphina! Thank God you’re alive.”

​Seraphina stopped dead. As Margaret reached for her, Seraphina took a sharp, deliberate step back.

​“Don’t.”

​The word sliced through the air. 

​Margaret froze. “I was worried, Seraphina...”

​Seraphina let out a short, jagged laugh. It was the most humorless sound I had ever heard. “No. You weren’t. You were worried about the cleanup you will have to do, so that this mess doesn't affect your precious family.”

​“Now is not the time for this,” Ethan snapped, stepping in to regain control. “You always create drama–”

​“Timw for what?” Seraphina’s gaze snapped to his, sharp enough to draw blood. “For pretending any of you actually care? You spent ten years making it clear I was an outsider. A ghost… Don’t you dare try to rewrite history just because there’s blood on the floor. Just don’t.”

​The silence that followed was suffocating. I moved toward her, my shadow falling over her. “Seraphina.”

​She looked at me, with eyes that were colder than the morning I had handed her the divorce papers.

​“Where is my son?” 

She demanded.

​“With my parents,” I said, my voice tight. “He’s safe. I made sure of it.”

​Her shoulders didn't relax; they tightened until she looked like she might snap. “Take me to him. Now.”

​“It’s not safe yet,” I countered. “We don’t know who coordinated the hit. You’re staying under my protection.”

​She stopped inches from my chest. I could smell the iron of the blood still on her. “I am not part of your world anymore, Kieran. Your 'protection' is what nearly got me killed.”

​“You were almost killed because I couldn't get to you in time!” I growled. “You don’t just get to walk away from this.”

​Her eyes flashed with a sudden spark. “I get to do whatever the hell I want. You have lost the right to tell me otherwise.”

​“You think I didn't care about you?” The question felt like a confession.

“Care is not protection, Kieran. And protection is not a choice you get to make for me anymore.”

​The words hit me like a physical blow. She always knew exactly where the armor was thinnest.

​“You stood beside me for ten years,” I said, desperate to anchor her to me.

​“And yet, you never chose me,” she shot back instantly. “Not once. Not even today.”

​The corridor felt like it was shrinking. I wanted to shake her, to hold her, to force her to see that I was drowning in the sight of her blood.

​“I’m not a Blackthorne anymore,” she continued. “I don’t need your guards. I don’t need your permission. And I damn sure don’t need your regret.”

​I reached for her arm, an instinctive move to keep her from vanishing, and she recoiled as if I was a leper.

​“Don’t. Touch. Me.”

​There was no rage in her tone, just freezing indifference. I watched her walk away, her silhouette disappearing behind the double doors. For the first time in my life, my legendary control had utterly abandoned me.

​Celeste’s hand slid onto my arm, her touch light and familiar. 

“Kieran…”

She whispered.

​I flinched at the contact. ​Celeste looked up at me, her face etched with concern. “This has been a horrible day. We need to go home.”

​I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, the motion mechanical. “Of course.”

It was a lie. My eyes stayed locked on the place where Seraphina had been. 

​If I had done everything "right," why did it feel like I had just lost everything that mattered?