"He Asked Me To Kill Him" Chapter 29 Mine To Protect
The problem started with a woman named Celestine.
According to Cassian, that sentence alone should have counted as an official emergency warning.
“She bites emotionally,” he explained while walking beside Seraphina through the sanctuary’s lower lounge later that evening. “Not physically. Usually.”
“That’s somehow less comforting.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
The lower sanctuary lounge occupied one of the renovated cathedral chambers beneath Vienna, all warm amber lighting and old velvet furniture salvaged from places wealthy people probably died dramatically inside.
Music drifted softly through hidden speakers while vampires gathered in small groups drinking blood-wine substitutes and arguing about politics with the exhausted intensity unique to immortal societies.
Seraphina still hadn’t adjusted to the fact that vampire gatherings mostly resembled graduate students with anger issues.
Lucien stood near the far side of the room speaking with Morvena beside the fireplace.
And unfortunately—
he looked unfairly attractive doing it.
Black dress shirt.
Sleeves rolled.
One hand resting loosely around a crystal glass while firelight softened the sharp lines of his face into something dangerously human.
Seraphina hated that her eyes found him automatically in crowded rooms now.
Cassian noticed immediately.
“Oh, there it is.”
She frowned. “What?”
“That look.”
“I don’t have a look.”
“You absolutely have a look.”
Before she could threaten him properly, another voice entered smoothly from behind.
“Well,” the woman drawled softly, “this explains the rumors.”
Seraphina turned.
And immediately understood why Cassian called her emotionally dangerous.
Celestine looked like old Hollywood glamour weaponized intentionally.
Dark skin glowing gold beneath chandelier light. Silver jewelry resting against elegant collarbones. Black silk dress sharp enough to count as psychological warfare.
Most importantly—
she walked directly toward Lucien without hesitation.
Which apparently nobody else in the room did casually.
Interesting.
Lucien noticed her approaching and straightened slightly.
Not nervous.
Attentive.
Celestine smiled slowly before touching two fingers lightly against his jaw.
“You disappeared after the council meeting,” she murmured.
Seraphina’s stomach reacted instantly.
Absolutely unacceptable.
Lucien caught Celestine’s wrist gently before lowering her hand away from his face.
Careful.
Respectful.
Still—
too familiar.
“I was occupied,” he said.
Celestine’s gaze slid sideways toward Seraphina.
Assessment sharpened instantly.
Ah.
There it was.
Female social warfare.
Wonderful.
“The hunter,” Celestine said softly.
“Seraphina,” Lucien corrected.
The distinction landed harder than it should have.
Cassian looked openly delighted by the tension now.
Traitor.
Celestine crossed toward them slowly, expression unreadable beneath the warm sanctuary lighting.
“She’s prettier than the rumors suggested.”
Seraphina blinked once.
“That feels threatening somehow.”
“It’s Vienna,” Celestine replied. “Everything here is threatening elegantly.”
Lucien looked exhausted already.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Celestine picked up Lucien’s abandoned drink from the nearby table without asking and took a slow sip from it while maintaining eye contact with Seraphina.
Possessive.
Intentional.
Seraphina felt heat rise sharply beneath her ribs.
Not jealousy.
Definitely not jealousy.
Cassian leaned slightly closer beside her.
“That,” he whispered helpfully, “is jealousy.”
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“I can still stab you.”
“See? Emotional growth.”
Across the room, Celestine rested one hand lightly against Lucien’s arm while continuing a quiet conversation Seraphina could no longer hear over the music.
Lucien looked deeply unamused by whatever game was happening.
Which should have helped.
Instead it somehow made things worse.
Because Seraphina realized suddenly that she had no right whatsoever to care.
Lucien noticed her staring almost immediately.
Of course he did.
His attention shifted across the lounge toward her with visible awareness before he said something brief to Celestine and stepped away from the fireplace.
Straight toward Seraphina.
The room noticed too.
Several vampires stopped pretending not to watch.
Cassian looked seconds away from requesting popcorn.
Lucien stopped directly in front of her.
“You look irritated.”
“That sounds narcissistic.”
“You’ve been glaring at Celestine for four minutes.”
“I was assessing threats.”
Cassian made a choking noise nearby.
Lucien’s mouth nearly curved again.
God.
Those tiny almost-smiles were becoming emotionally destabilizing.
“Celestine helped smuggle sanctuary survivors out of Prague,” he explained calmly.
“I didn’t ask.”
“No,” he agreed softly. “You didn’t.”
That should not have sounded intimate.
Unfortunately everything sounded intimate lately.
Before Seraphina could recover, another vampire approached from the lounge entrance carrying papers.
Young.
Nervous.
“Lucien,” he said quietly, “we found another supply route compromised.”
Lucien’s expression sharpened immediately.
Professional again.
The young vampire glanced briefly toward Seraphina afterward.
Then lowered his voice instinctively.
“Several hunters asked specifically about the Blackthorn girl.”
The room atmosphere shifted slightly after that.
Lucien noticed first.
Always first.
His entire posture changed almost invisibly.
Protective.
Predatory.
The young vampire continued carefully.
“They’re offering sanctuary credits for information leading to her recovery.”
Recovery.
Again with that word.
Like she was property the Order misplaced.
Lucien held out his hand silently for the papers.
The younger vampire obeyed instantly.
Seraphina watched the subtle change ripple across the room afterward.
Not fear.
Deference.
Because suddenly everyone present remembered exactly what Lucien became when threats involved people under his protection.
The realization sent a strange pulse of warmth through her chest before she could stop it.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Lucien scanned the report once before folding it closed.
“They approached civilians?”
“Yes.”
“Publicly?”
The younger vampire hesitated.
Then nodded.
Something cold entered Lucien’s expression after that.
Not anger.
Worse.
Decision.
Seraphina recognized the shift immediately now.
The room did too.
Even Celestine straightened slightly near the fireplace.
Lucien handed the report back calmly.
“Double sanctuary escorts. No one travels alone.”
“And the hunters?”
Lucien’s gaze lowered briefly toward the Blackthorn insignia still faintly stitched into Seraphina’s borrowed jacket sleeve.
Then back toward the messenger.
“If they threaten civilians again,” he said quietly, “I’ll handle it personally.”
Silence settled softly through the lounge afterward.
Not because he sounded loud.
Because everyone believed him.
Seraphina stared at him for half a second too long.
There it was again.
That terrifying realization:
Lucien protected people publicly.
Openly.
Without shame.
Not just her.
Everyone.
And somehow that made him infinitely more dangerous to her than violence ever had.
Because monsters weren’t supposed to care who got hurt.
Lucien looked toward her again afterward.
The colder edge faded slightly from his expression once their eyes met.
Like some internal switch softened automatically.
God.
That too.
That had started happening too often lately.
Seraphina abruptly stood.
“I need air.”
Cassian sighed heavily into his drink.
“And there she goes.”
Lucien moved immediately.
“I’ll come with—”
“No.”
Too fast.
Too sharp.
The word landed harder than intended.
The room quieted again.
Seraphina suddenly became aware of several deeply embarrassing facts simultaneously:
she was absolutely jealous;
everyone in the lounge probably knew;
Lucien definitely knew.
Catastrophic.
She turned before anyone could see the humiliation spreading across her face properly and headed toward the sanctuary corridor.
Fast.
Behind her, Cassian’s voice echoed helpfully through the lounge.
“For the record, this is exactly how religious wars start.”
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