novelraw Chapter 536: Next Time
Chapter 536: Next Time
Zubair studied Caerwyn as he crouched beside Sera, the last of the stormwater still sliding off him in slow lines.
The apparent Seelie Lord’s attention was fixed entirely on her. It wasn’t reverent like he was looking at a Goddess, and it was anything but gentle. Instead, it was proprietary in a way that did not ask permission, and that caused Zubair’s hackles to raise.
No one could look at Sera like they owned her. Not without her say-so first.
What bothered Zubair also about Caerwyn was that he hadn’t offered reassurance, hadn’t explained himself, and hadn’t looked to anyone else for confirmation. He simply occupied the space like it belonged to him and everyone else was expected to just take a knee.
"If they were Seelie Wardens," Zubair said evenly, testing out the word like it was wrong on so may levels, "why were they carrying an Unseelie blade."
Caerwyn didn’t look up. "Only a traitor to the Seelie race would touch something that belonged to the Unseelie. Therefore, they had to already be traitors."
The words carried an undisguised level of disgust that almost made Zubair amused. It landed like a final judgment, and he could see Psycho and Aerenyx bristling from the corner of his eye.
Psycho pushed off the side of the truck, his boots crunching against wet stone as he stepped closer. "That doesn’t work."
Caerwyn’s gaze lifted slowly, silver-threaded eyes narrowing as they settled on him. "Explain."
"Unseelie weapons aren’t scavenged," Psycho said. "They’re not traded. They’re not lost and found."
"They’re issued," Aerenyx added flatly.
Caerwyn rolled his eyes in response. "That proves my point exactly. The Warden were working with the Unseelie which would make them traitors."
"Only a High Unseelie Lord would be able to get one such weapon forged, let alone issue to it someone," Aerenyx said. "Those types of weapons are not cheap to make either."
The silence that followed was sharp and deliberate. It wasn’t confusion filling the space. It was everyone adjusting their understanding of what should have been possible and realizing it no longer applied.
Zubair felt his creature lock onto the implication before his conscious mind finished assembling it. Authorization like that should not exist. Either the system was compromised or someone was lying about where power ended.
He looked directly at Caerwyn.
"You’re Seelie," Zubair said.
"Yes."
"And yet, you didn’t stop them from trying to kill Sera."
Caerwyn rose to his full height then, finally turning away from Sera. He didn’t loom. He didn’t posture. He simply stood as though the land would make room regardless.
"They were not acting under Seelie authority," he snarled like it was clear as day.
"Then whose," Zubair pressed.
Caerwyn’s jaw tightened by a fraction. "Someone arrogant enough to believe blood outranks balance. Someone who thinks tradition excuses consequence."
"That’s still not an answer," Zubair said.
"It’s the only one that matters," Caerwyn replied with a shrug. "If you want a name, I’m afraid that I am the High Lord of Storms, not Premonitions."
Psycho let out a low, humorless sound. "Funny. Because that kind of thinking usually rots in the Unseelie court."
Caerwyn’s attention snapped to him, sharp and openly contemptuous. "Do not pretend your court understands restraint."
Aerenyx stepped forward a half pace. "Do not pretend yours understands corruption."
The air around them turned heavy immediately.
Not with magic but with posture...with history.
It was clear to Zubair that there were centuries of blood, betrayal, and doctrine pressed into the space between them, each side trained from creation to assume the worst of the other.
Neither court trusted the other to tell the truth. Neither had ever needed to.
Until right this moment.
Zubair didn’t raise his voice. " That’s enough."
The word wasn’t loud, but it cut cleanly through the tension.
All three of them looked at him.
"You can go back to measuring your dicks later," Zubair continued. "You can argue who is right, who is superior, and who is nothing when Sera’s breathing on her own again. Right now, I don’t care which court failed or whose doctrine cracked or even if you three can get along."
He gestured down at Sera without looking away from them.
"Someone sanctioned her removal," he said. "That’s the only hierarchy that matters to me."
No one interrupted him.
"That blade didn’t miss," Zubair went on. "It didn’t hesitate. It was used by people who believed they had permission and protection. I know what that means. The humans whose bodies you are using know what that means. We have been sent out on similar missions."
Aerenyx nodded once. "Wardens do not act independently. They are simply a bullet pointed in a direction."
"They act under recorded authority," Psycho added.
Zubair’s creature finished the thought with cold clarity. Sanctioned. Approved. Logged.
"This wasn’t an ambush," Zubair said. "It wasn’t intimidation. They weren’t trying to scare her or slow us down."
"No," Aerenyx agreed. "They were sent to finish something."
"And they failed," Psycho said.
Caerwyn’s gaze returned to Sera, his expression unreadable. "Failure does not end obligation."
Zubair’s jaw tightened. "Meaning they’ll send more."
"Yes."
The word settled heavily.
Zubair crouched beside Sera again, checking her pulse even though he already knew what he’d find. Present. Steady enough to mock him. Unresponsive enough to keep his anger sharp.
"Can you wake her," he asked without looking up.
"No," Aerenyx said.
"No," Caerwyn echoed.
The answer landed harder than Zubair expected, even though he already knew the answer.
"Can you heal her," he asked.
"No," Aerenyx repeated.
Caerwyn didn’t contradict him.
Zubair exhaled slowly through his nose. His creature paced, restless and contained, already shifting into forward planning.
"Then we move," Zubair said.
Caerwyn’s eyes flicked up. "She is not fit for—"
"I’m not asking," Zubair cut in. "She’s alive. That means the attempt failed. Which means standing still helps the people who want her dead."
Psycho tilted his head. "Bold of you to assume we’re aligned with a Seelie High Lord."
Zubair finally looked at him.
"You can fall in line," he said calmly. "Or you can get out of the way."
The silence stretched.
Then Psycho smiled, slow and sharp. "You really are something, Zaddy. The last human who talked to me like that didn’t live long enough to draw his next breath."
"I don’t need to show you the door, you’re already outside. But the second you walk away, you are not welcomed back. Sera will be out of your life for however long that is."
Aerenyx didn’t smile. He simply nodded once.
Caerwyn studied Zubair for a long moment, assessing him the way one predator assessed another species entirely.
"You will not command me," Caerwyn said.
"No," Zubair agreed. "But you already said you’d hunt with me."
Caerwyn’s eyes narrowed. "For her."
"I’m not asking for myself."
The Seelie Lord looked down at Sera again. Whatever calculation he made, it ended there.
"Very well," Caerwyn said. "But understand this. The Wardens answering to a corrupted authority means the court will not protect her."
Zubair stood. "From what I have learned about Sera... that isn’t anything new. The only people who protect her were me, Lachlan, and Alexei... and two of them are dead or gone now."
Aerenyx shifted closer to Sera, his expression dark. "Wardens do not stop until the target is confirmed dead."
Zubair nodded. "Then we keep moving."
"Where," Psycho asked.
Zubair looked toward the road ahead, still open, still clear, still waiting.
"To the only place that might already have answers," he said. "Perdition."
Caerwyn’s gaze sharpened. "That territory is contested."
"So is she," Zubair replied.
No one argued.
The truck loomed nearby, battered but intact. The bodies behind them were already becoming irrelevant, stripped of intent and authority alike.
Zubair took one last look at Sera, then at the road ahead.
They hadn’t been stopped.
They’d been evaluated.
And next time, he knew, they wouldn’t be testing removal.
They’d be correcting it.