Seraphina's Revenge: A Rebirth In The Apocalypse Novel

Chapter 571: Something You Tolerate

Aerenyx had always known where Sera was.

Not because of magic, or proximity, or duty, but because his attention had calibrated itself around her a long time ago and he had no intention of trying to break that habit.

He tracked her breathing the way other people tracked weather.

He noticed the way she shifted her weight when she was thinking, the way her pulse changed when she was annoyed rather than angry, the precise second when her scar stretched just a little bit too much when she twisted her body a certain way.

And that isn’t even getting started on him checking her several times a day for disease or parasites that came when you lived in a prehistoric jungle.

Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t consider it as proof of an obsession. He wasn’t like Psycho or Ashkar in that way.

It was just an... awareness that he had.

It wasn’t like he was tracking her through the jungle and killing anything that got a little too close. That only happened once... or twice... a day. Nothing to be worried about.

The cabin had been finished for a while now, and Ashkar had really done an impressive job with it.

It was solid and warm, using the massive trees and plants from the surrounding jungle and whatever they were able to salvage from the ruined city they had come across. Aerenyx was pretty sure that it was T-dot City, but since the actual jungle had overtaken the concrete one, it was hard to be sure.

But the ruins had given them windows and decorations, linins and beds, and every last kitchen gadget that they could find in the rubble. Even Caerwyn had taken the stick out of his ass and was suppling daily electricity to a power bank they had liberated from a half destroyed garage so that the cabin had lights and a tv.

You could take Lachlan out of Caerwyn, but weekly movie nights were still apparently a thing.

Ashkar had even made sure that every last male had their own room on the main floor so that they had a spot just for themselves, and he outfitted each one with a septate bathroom. Of course, there was one over the top bathroom for the ensuite that was attached to Sera’s room.

Everything that they could possibly need or think of was brought back and added to the cabin, and Sera never stopped smiling in happiness.

And yet, he still found himself awake when the others slept.

Not restless.

Not unsettled.

Simply... attentive.

The world outside hummed with insects and distant movement, the jungle never truly quiet, but inside the walls there was peace.

Sera was upstairs.

He could feel that without needing to look from his book.

Most nights, they all slept together. The massive bed had become the center of gravity in the house, not because it was hers, but because she was there.

Bodies tangled easily there and limbs thrown wherever they fit. It was natural in a way that surprised him, even to this day. What surprised him even more was that he didn’t care that he was sleeping next to Seelie High Lords. He was... content in a way he never expected to be.

But tonight, Sera hadn’t followed the others up.

Instead, she lingered downstairs in the living room with him.

Aerenyx closed the book he hadn’t really been reading and stood, moving quietly through the house. He didn’t go upstairs. He didn’t want to be in a room with the rest of the men when Sera wasn’t there. So, instead, he went instead to the room that had become his.

It wasn’t dark, simply because they had yet to find actual paint, but it was dimmer than the rest of the cabin, lit by low, indirect light that softened edges instead of erasing them.

The space reflected him without trying to impress anyone. Clean lines. Practical furniture. Nothing unnecessary. No pictures on the wall, no decoration beyond what served a purpose.

It was where he thought best.

Sera stood just inside the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame, her posture loose in a way it hadn’t been there when they’d first arrived.

She wasn’t injured anymore, not in any way that mattered, but habit still made him scan her automatically.

Her breathing was even.

Her eyes were steady.

"You didn’t go upstairs," he said coming up to stand in front of her.

She smiled faintly. "Neither did you," she replied, tipping her chin up to look at him.

He inclined his head, accepting the point. "Did you want company," he asked, "or quiet."

She considered him for a moment, really looked at him, and something in her expression softened. "I wanted you," she said simply.

That simple confession did things to him that while he understood them on a biological level, he had no idea about on an emotional one.

The feeling wasn’t overly dramatic. It settled into his chest, heavy and real, the kind of statement that didn’t demand response but deserved one. He stepped aside, giving her space to enter without crowding her, and she did, crossing the threshold like she belonged there.

Because she did.

There was never any question about that.

She took in the room with quick, curious glances. "This feels like you," she said. "No wasted space."

"I don’t like noise when I’m thinking."

"Funny," she replied, turning to face him. "You’re very quiet for someone who carries disease."

His mouth curved, just barely. "I carry it, that doesn’t mean I have to be inflicted by it."

She stepped closer, close enough now that he could feel her body heat, could smell her skin under the humidity and the clean scent of the soap she favored. She reached for his wrist, fingers resting lightly over the pulse there, and he let her.

"You always check me," she said. "Even when I don’t need it."

"It’s habit."

"No," she corrected gently. "It’s care."

He didn’t argue.

Her thumb brushed once over his skin, and something shifted inside him. Not hunger. Not urgency. Just permission.

"You don’t take," she continued. "You wait. You watch. You hold space like you’re afraid of crossing a line that doesn’t actually exist."

He met her gaze, unflinching. "I don’t want to be something you tolerate."

She exhaled slowly. "You’ve never been that. If anything, I feel like I am something that you tolerate every so often."

"You are anything but that," he breathed, completely surprised that she ever thought that way. "You have taken the place of my beating heart, and I have no idea what to do with that. My heart is beating outside of my body... it’s... unsettling."

"Really?" she purred, taking a step toward him. "You’re not just saying that because I am here?"

"Never," he assured her, settling his hands around her waist.