The Vampire's Court

Chapter 46-Heavenly Touch

Days later, the first light of dawn casted its golden glow across the sky, casting long, faint shadows across Dimitri's study. He hadn't slept at all, the exhaustion weighing on him like a heavy cloak. The trip to Paris, which had been planned with such care, had been postponed—a necessary decision, given the circumstances. But deep down, Dimitri knew that the fire hadn't just been a tragic accident or an act of random arson. No, it had been something far more sinister—a way to get his attention, to keep him occupied here, far away from Paris. The thought gnawed at him, a cold dread curling in his gut. Whoever was behind this had planned it well, knowing just how to hurt him, just how to keep him from where he needed to be.

He sat slumped on the sofa in his study, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He leaned his head back, staring blankly at the ceiling as a deep sigh escaped him. The weariness wasn't just physical—it was emotional, spiritual, a bone-deep exhaustion that seemed to seep into every part of him.

The fire had been devastating enough, but the knowledge that the Romani people had been specifically targeted gnawed at him like a relentless beast. And worse still, a new, terrifying thought had begun to take root in his mind: a thrall had turned Anca's husband into one of them. Thralls weren't supposed to be able to do that. The impossibility of it sent his thoughts spiraling between anger and anxiety, the dread settling in his chest like a cold, heavy stone.

As his mind began to race, the edges of his vision darkened, and he felt the familiar signs of a panic attack creeping up on him—his heart racing, his breath growing shallow, the walls of the room closing in. He tried to calm himself, to push the thoughts away, but it was like trying to hold back a flood with nothing but his bare hands.

Just when he thought he might drown in it, the sound of soft footsteps pulled him back to the present. He looked up, and there was Seraphine, standing in the doorway with a teacup in her hands. Her eyes were soft, filled with concern, and she approached him quietly, as if sensing the fragile state he was in.

"I thought, maybe you'd be stressed and would like some tea," she said, her voice gentle, like a balm to his frayed nerves.

Dimitri managed a wry smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He took the teacup from her, the warmth of the porcelain seeping into his cold fingers. "Thank you," he murmured, but the tea remained untouched as he set it down on the table beside him.

Seraphine didn't say anything else at first. Instead, she simply took a seat beside him, her presence steady and grounding. After a moment, she turned to him, her expression filled with quiet concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but sincere.

Dimitri let out another sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "No," he admitted, his voice rough with exhaustion and the rawness of his emotions. "No, I'm not."

Seraphine's brow furrowed slightly, and she leaned in closer, her hand resting lightly on his forearm. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, the earnestness in her voice making something in his chest ache.

He shook his head slightly, a bitter chuckle escaping him. "Unless you've found a spell to rewind time, I'm not sure there's much anyone can do."

Seraphine tilted her head, offering him a small, playful smile in an attempt to lift his spirits. "I'm afraid that one's still a work in progress," she quipped, trying to coax even the smallest smile from him.

And it worked—just a little. His lips twitched upwards, the briefest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but it was fleeting. The heaviness remained, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn't shake.

"You should rest," she said gently, her voice carrying the kind of concern that made his chest tighten with emotion.

"I've tried," he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "But my mind just won't slow down."