Chapter 16: You Were Supposed to Destroy Me

Dawn broke with a cool, unyielding clarity that contrasted sharply with the feverish chaos of the night before. In the quiet aftermath of their explosive union, Seraphina awoke to a reality that felt both foreign and all too intimate. The echoes of their passion still thrummed beneath her skin, leaving her torn between lingering desire and a creeping sense of betrayal—because she had always believed that he was meant to be her enemy, the one who would ruin her.

She sat on the edge of her unmade bed, her eyes fixed on the pale light slipping through drawn curtains. Every detail of the night replayed in her mind: the fierce kiss, the raw, unbridled intensity that left both of them exposed, and the whispered promises that promised both ruin and redemption. It was in that quiet solitude that she allowed herself to feel the tumult of conflicting emotions.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. With a heavy sigh, she called out, "Come in."

Damian entered silently, his eyes wary and filled with an unspoken question. The tension in the room was palpable—a fragile balance between what had been and what now threatened to rewrite their fates.

"Good morning," he said softly, his tone more tentative than usual. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, letting the silence do the heavy lifting of their shared remorse and longing.

Finally, Seraphina broke the stillness. "You… you were supposed to destroy me," she murmured, her voice low and edged with pain. "I always thought you'd be the one to tear me apart, to leave nothing but ashes. But instead… you left me here, broken and confused."

Damian's eyes darkened with regret and something dangerously close to tenderness. "I never intended to leave you shattered, Seraphina," he replied, his voice strained with the weight of his own contradictions. "Every time I looked at you, every moment we shared… it was like I was fighting a war inside myself. I wanted to see you crumble—so I could prove I was the one responsible for your ruin. But instead, I found that instead of destroying you, I was becoming entangled in your strength, your defiance."

She pushed herself up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and hard-edged determination. "How can you say that?" she demanded, her tone a mixture of anger and sorrow. "You were meant to be the enemy, the man who would ruin my carefully constructed world. And now, I'm left wondering if your touch wasn't a curse at all."

Damian stepped closer, his hand reaching out to rest gently on her shoulder—a gesture that was both an apology and a silent promise. "Maybe I was meant to ruin you," he whispered, "but not in the way you expected. I thought I could break you down, but instead I discovered that every piece of you is too powerful to shatter. Your fire… it's what drew me in, made me question everything I ever believed about strength and vulnerability."

Her eyes searched his, searching for answers in the raw sincerity of his gaze. "You were supposed to make me hate you," she said bitterly. "But all I feel is this maddening confusion—this ache where hatred and desire collide. I'm not sure which side of me is winning."

He knelt beside her, his expression earnest and full of unspoken regret. "I'm sorry," he said, the word heavy with meaning. "I never wanted to be the cause of your pain. I thought that if I could be the force that tore down everything you've built, maybe I could prove that you're nothing without your armor. But you're so much more, Seraphina. You're a storm that refuses to be tamed—even by me."

For a moment, the room pulsed with the weight of their shared truth. In that quiet vulnerability, the roles they'd once so meticulously constructed began to unravel. The enemy who was supposed to destroy her had instead become the catalyst for her unearthing a strength she never knew she possessed.

Seraphina's voice broke as she whispered, "I don't know if I can handle this… the idea that you could be both my ruin and my salvation. It scares me."

Damian's hand tightened around hers. "Then let me prove it to you," he vowed softly. "Let me show you that sometimes the greatest destruction can lead to the most profound rebirth. I'm not asking you to love me, Seraphina. I'm just asking you to let me help you find the pieces of yourself that have been lost in the fight."

As the fragile light of dawn filtered through the window, Seraphina felt a tremor of hope mingle with her pain. The night had taken more than just their inhibitions—it had unmasked a truth that neither could ignore. In the aftermath of passion and ruin, she realized that perhaps what was meant to destroy her might also be the very force that set her free.

Their eyes locked in a silent accord—a promise to face the chaos within and around them, to tear down the walls of expectation and vulnerability together. And though the path ahead was uncertain, in that moment, both knew that sometimes, even an enemy's touch could kindle a fire worth fighting for.