Seraphina's Revenge: A Rebirth In The Apocalypse Novel

Chapter 569: You’re An Idiot

Caerwyn had never been invisible before.

It was an unfamiliar sensation, and he hated it on principle before he could even pinpoint what bothered him the most about it.

He was the living embodiment of a storm, and no one ignored a storm, or if they did, they didn’t do it a second time. And yet... here he was, sitting in the living room of the cabin the four of them had made for her...

Completely invisible.

Sera stood near the fireplace, the lines of laughter still lingering at the corner of her mouth, her body angled unconsciously toward Psycho and Ashkar, her two clear favorites. The way she leaned into their orbit, the way her hand brushed Psycho’s arm as she passed, the way Ashkar’s presence had become an unquestioned constant at her back.

All of it annoyed him.

What was the most grating was that she didn’t even look for Caerwyn, and that omission cut deeper than any outright rejection.

Psycho didn’t need to say anything about what happened between the two of them in the woods a few weeks ago, and he never would. He was even more psychotic when it came to the Lost Daughter than before... if that was even possible.

However, the looks he gave her were enough — the shared glances, the careless touches, the way Sera let herself be drawn in close without hesitation, seeking his touch just as much as she sought Ashkar’s.

No, the Unseelie High Lord didn’t crow because he didn’t need to.

He had already won something that none of the rest of them had, and he knew it.

Trying to control his breath, Caerwyn felt the storm stir beneath his skin, demanding attention, demanding...something he knew he shouldn’t be demanding.

But seriously, it grated on his nerves. Unlike the others, he had been written into her fate. He knew what his mission was by the time he took his first breath, centuries before he found himself inside the idiot previously known as Lachlan.

Stars, threads, inevitability — all of it had pointed to him. Seelie precision, divine alignment, the certainty that some things simply were. And yet, Sera refused to submit to the will of the universe.

Maybe it was because Lachlan was the reason why she had been so severely injured in the first place. No one had actually said it out loud, but he knew what the other men were thinking, especially the Unseelie Lords.

They made their disdain the loudest. If only the idiot hadn’t fought him so much when it came to taking over the body then Sera wouldn’t have been injured.

And now, not a single one of them paid him the attention he deserved.

He was a Seelie High Lord, the Lord of Storms, born to protect The Lost Daughter long before the Daughter was ever lost. And yet here he stood, second to a madman and a hearth fire that burned too warm to ignore.

Ashkar moved with her like his gravity had shifted.

Even Aerenyx was well received when he reached out to touch her. A hand at her wrist, fingers at her back, no matter what he did, she still acknowledged him without him needing to say a single word.

Do you know how pathetic you have to be for the Unseelie High Lord of Death and Disease to have earned a place next to the woman Caerwyn couldn’t get out of his head?

And yet, Sera hadn’t even glanced at him once tonight.

That was just unacceptable.

He rose from the reed chair that Ashkar had created out of what grew at the shoreline and stepped closer to her, his boots crunching softly against the wooden floors.

The moment he moved, the atmosphere around him moved, too. Wind curled through the open windows, stirring the embers in the fireplace and lifting her hair until it danced around her.

Sera turned at once.

There it was. That was what he wanted.

Recognition.

"Caerwyn," she said, surprise threading her voice. "Are you okay? You’re pacing."

"I am not," he replied, his voice coming out harsher than he had intended. But he didn’t like being called out for something he didn’t have any control over.

Psycho snorted from where he lounged against the fireplace. "Dude, the wind started doing laps around the room. That counts as you pacing."

Caerwyn ignored him, choosing to focus on Sera.

"You’ve been avoiding me," he said calmly.

The fire crackled lightly. It wasn’t there for heat, but because Ashkar couldn’t have a house without a fire burning in it.

Ashkar stiffened slightly behind her, the heat answering instinctively, but he did not step in. This was not his confrontation.

Sera tilted her head. "I haven’t."

"You have," Caerwyn said. "You look at everyone else first."

Silence stretched, thick and electric.

Sera exhaled slowly. "You’re angry."

"Yes."

"That’s new."

"No," he replied. "It just appears that it is finally relevant in your little world."

The storm inside him surged, no longer contained for politeness’s sake. Wind snapped outward, circling them, not violent but demanding space.

"I was never supposed to compete," Caerwyn continued, voice steady even as chaos pressed against his ribs. "I was chosen for you by the Gods themselves. Seelie alignment. Fate-bound. Certain."

His gaze flicked to Psycho, then Ashkar.

"And now," he added, "you don’t even notice when I’m here, let alone when I am gone."

That landed.

Sera stepped closer, her expression sharpening, not defensive but focused. "You think this is about being replaced?"

"I think," Caerwyn said, "that you stopped reaching for me because I assumed you always would."

Psycho straightened slightly, interest piqued.

Ashkar watched without interrupting, fire held in check but attentive.

Aerenyx remained still, eyes narrowed, reading the storm patterns beneath Caerwyn’s skin.

Sera crossed her arms. "You never asked."

Caerwyn blinked.

"What?" he asked.

"You never asked if I wanted destiny," she said quietly. "You just... assumed it would be enough."

The storm cracked.

Lightning arced through the air, brief and brilliant, illuminating the clearing in stark white. Leaves hissed, insects scattered, the jungle holding its breath.

Caerwyn stepped forward, close enough now that she could feel the charge rolling off him.

"I am not gentle," he said. "I am not safe. I do not warm or soothe or distract."

His hand lifted, stopping just short of touching her.

"But I will not be forgotten by someone who never should have chosen anyone else."

The words vibrated through her and Sera simply raised an eyebrow at his statement. "You are an idiot," she said at last as Psycho took her hand and led her over to the couch... something else the Hearth Lord had made for her.

Caerwyn turned slightly pink as Aerenyx snorted in laughter as he flipped through a book that Sera had in her space.

"Excuse me?" he sputtered, not sure how he could reply without putting his foot in his mouth.

"She said that you were an idiot," reminded Psycho unhelpfully as he sat down beside Sera and put an arm around her. "An idiot is..."

"I know what an idiot is," snarled Caerwyn, rearing back, uncertain how the conversation got so off course.

"I will never not choose these men," Sera said, her back straight as she stared down Caerwyn. "You knew that coming into this relationship. So tell me what is really bothering you."

"I don’t want to be ignored!" he shouted, causing Aerenyx to close his book and Ashkar to take a step forward, ready to defend Sera. "I am tired of being in the background. Ignored. Overlooked. Dismissed."

"Then don’t stand back," replied Psycho, rolling his eyes. "Do you see any of us standing back? No. We step up and step forward. If Sera doesn’t like it, she would say something. Besides, storms don’t really wait for permission, now do they?"

Something fierce and feral curled through his chest and Caerwyn closed the distance between the two of them.

His hand caught her wrist and energy rolled through the contact, wind rushing past them in a sharp spiral.

He leaned in, voice low.

"Look at me," he demanded, and she did. But this time, she didn’t look away.

Psycho let out a low whistle. "See? You’re an idiot."

Caerwyn ignored him, eyes locked on Sera’s.

"I am not owed you," he said. "But I will earn you."

And for the first time that night, Sera smiled at him like she remembered exactly why the stars had once chosen him.

Not because fate demanded it.

But because chaos, when it chose, chose fiercely.