Sera's POV
The Glass Palace was silent, but I wasn't.
I lay awake in the dark, replaying the cafeteria scene until it burned itself into my eyelids: Sebastian's hand slamming against the table, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, the entire school watching as he stood between me and the world.
The Queen never falters. Never lets anyone see her rattled.
And yet—my hand had reached for him. My fingers had clenched his jacket like a lifeline.
Why?
The question gnawed at me until I couldn't breathe under my silk sheets. Until the weight of my father's warnings—Blackwells are rivals, not allies—felt heavier than the crown I pretended wasn't there.
I threw back the covers and slipped into my slippers, pulling a long coat over my nightgown. Not because I cared what anyone would say if they saw me, but because the walls of the Glass Palace were suffocating me.
I needed air. I needed space.
And there was only one place that had always felt like mine.
The rooftop of Elysian Prep.
When I was younger, before the weight of legacy pressed too heavily on my shoulders, I used to sneak up there with Jules or Penny. It was the one place where we weren't heirs or dynasties, where the city spread out beneath us like a secret we owned.
Tonight, I didn't want company. I wanted the ghosts of that freedom.
So I slipped out, my shoes silent on marble floors, my shadow dancing in the glass halls as I made my way toward the school that never truly slept.
-----
Sebastian should've gone home. Should've buried himself in strategy notes or at least pretended he wasn't still on edge from the cafeteria. Instead, he found himself leaning against his car in the Glass Palace drive, jaw tight, when the familiar glint of Sera's black sedan slipped past the gates.
At nearly midnight.
He shouldn't care. He shouldn't follow. And yet—his hand was already on the ignition before the thought even finished.
Her taillights cut through the empty Elysian streets, and he kept a careful distance, headlights dimmed. The city was quieter at this hour, the chaos of the dynasty heirs reduced to a hush, like the world was holding its breath.
When her car pulled into the shadowed lot beside Elysian Prep, Sebastian frowned. The school. Of all places.
She got out, her frame small against the iron gates, wrapped in nothing but a silk nightgown and a robe carelessly tied. He cursed under his breath. Who in their right mind—
He didn't even realize he'd parked until he was already out of the car, boots silent against the pavement as he trailed her through the grounds.
Sera Valmont, in moonlight, didn't move like she was trespassing. She moved like she belonged. Straight toward the old stairwell that led to the rooftop.
Sebastian exhaled, a half-laugh at his own damnation. He'd followed her this far. And there was no universe where he was letting her climb to the top of the school alone at midnight.
So he followed.
The rooftop was a cathedral of shadows and silver. The city stretched endlessly below, lights glittering like a sea of jewels, but Sera didn't look at the skyline. She stood at the edge of the roof, nightgown tugged by the breeze, her hair spilling loose down her back.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Sebastian's voice cut through the silence, sharper than he intended.
She startled, spinning, but the mask returned quickly. "You followed me."
"Of course I did." He stalked closer, irritation and something else burning under his skin. "You sneak out at midnight, drive to the school in that—" his eyes flicked, unwillingly, over her silk and skin, "—and you expect me to stay home?"
Her lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a challenge. "I didn't expect you at all."
"Story of my life," he muttered, but he didn't stop moving until he was close enough to feel the warmth of her body against the cold night air.
For a beat, neither spoke. The city hummed beneath them. Her robe fluttered. His pulse hammered.
"Why here, Sera?" His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Why now?"
Her gaze softened, just barely. "Because this is the only place that still feels like mine."
The words landed between them like a dare. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, fingers grazing skin like he had every right. And she didn't flinch.
-----
Sera's POV
The wind whipped strands of hair across my face. He moved before I could, brushing them back, his fingers grazing my cheek like he'd always had the right.
"You shouldn't have done it," I whispered. "At lunch. You made it worse."
"No," he countered, voice low. "I made sure no one forgets what happens when they try to touch you."
"That wasn't your fight."
His jaw tightened. "Everything about you feels like my fight."
The words sank into me, too heavy, too dangerous. I should have pushed him away, should have reminded him of dynasties and rivalries and bloodlines buried in secrets.
Instead, I asked, "Why?"
He didn't answer with words.
One step closed the space, his hand at my waist, pulling me against him until the only thing between us was heat. His eyes burned into mine, daring me to break, daring me to admit I wanted this as much as he did.
"Careful, Queen," he whispered, breath hot against my lips. "Kiss me, and you can't take it back."
My crown slipped in that moment. My mask cracked.
And then I kissed him.
It wasn't gentle. It was fire and fury, a storm bottled too long. His mouth crashed against mine, tasting of smoke and rebellion, his grip fierce as if he'd been holding back for centuries.
The rooftop spun, the city lights blurred, and for once—I didn't care who I was supposed to be.
We broke apart only when the air demanded it.
He pressed his forehead against mine, breath ragged, laughter dark and soft. "Told you," he murmured. "Can't take it back."
I should have been furious. I should have walked away.
But instead, I stayed.
The Queen stayed.
-----
Sebastian's POV
Her lips tore from mine, and for one heartbeat, I thought she'd shove me away, run back behind the glass and marble where she ruled untouchable.
Instead, she stayed.
Her breath shuddered against my mouth, her forehead pressed to mine, every muscle tight like she hated herself for not leaving. And still, she stayed.
I wanted to laugh, to curse, to drag her back in for another kiss just to prove it wasn't an accident. Instead, I whispered the only truth clawing through my chest: "Told you. Can't take it back."
The mask slipped, just for a second. I saw the girl beneath the crown—the one who burned when I touched her, who wasn't as cold as the world believed.
And I knew, in that instant, that I'd burn the whole damn dynasty to ash if it meant I got to keep this piece of her.