Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 378: Perfect Time

Warlock Ch 378. Perfect Time

Selena peeked at him through her fingers. "Even if my father sends a mage squad to retrieve me?"

Damian grabbed his goblet and raised it in a mock toast. "Then I'll feed them dinner too."

"And if they try to drag me away?"

"Then I'll drag you back."

She stared at him, heart fluttering, face hot. "You're insane."

"Possibly," he said, taking a sip like they weren't talking about war and politics and heartache. "But at least I'll be insane with you."

Selena reached across the table again, her fingers brushing his. "If I stay…"

He locked eyes with her. "If you stay, we'll figure the rest out together."

She didn't answer right away.

But she smiled.

And this time, he didn't need her to say it.

He already knew.

Selena didn't have to say anything. Damian could see it in the way her smile lingered, soft and warm and aching all at once. She didn't need to spell out what she wanted anymore. It was there—in her gaze, in her grip, in her willingness to be here at all.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The moment settled into silence again, only this time, there was a kind of peace to it.

Of course, that peace didn't last.

Because no more than three seconds later, the door creaked open like it had been waiting for the drama to cool down.

Cassius strolled in with a smug look plastered across his face, followed closely by Evelyn, who held her usual composed expression. Victoria trailed in last.

Damian didn't even bother looking up. "You guys listened, didn't you?"

Cassius dropped into a chair like he owned the place. Which he did. Technically. "Don't mind us. We just happen to know the perfect time to 'accidentally' walk in."

Victoria flopped lazily into the seat next to Selena, smirking. "Your timing was immaculate, by the way."

Evelyn slid back into her original seat. "We heard enough. Also, congratulations. That might be the longest non-violent conversation I've ever heard from you."

Damian groaned and sank deeper into his seat. "Right… yeah. Totally believe the 'accidental' part."

Selena just looked flustered, but didn't try to deny it. Her cheeks were still pink, but she didn't look away from Damian this time. She just smiled quietly and reached for her drink again, pretending to focus on the food.

Lunch resumed.

Kind of.

It was chaotic in that familiar way—Cassius tossing sarcastic one-liners about everything from politics to the seasoning on the spice-pork, Victoria flicking bits of bread at him like she was bored out of her mind, and Evelyn constantly switching between ignoring them and sighing dramatically.

Damian mostly listened. So did Selena. And for a moment, it felt almost normal.

Until it didn't.

It hit like a wave of cold pressure—a quiet whisper brushing against the edge of Damian's awareness. Subtle. Focused. From the shadows.

He straightened without realizing it.

Across the table, Cassius paused mid-chew, one brow twitching. He glanced at Damian and tilted his head slightly.

Damian didn't need to say a word.

They both felt it.

One of their shadow servants had just pinged them.

A guest had arrived.

And not just any guest.

"Shit…" Damian muttered under his breath.

Cassius exhaled, his lips twitching in some combination of annoyance and resignation. "Let me guess."

Damian nodded. "Yeah. It's that general."

Evelyn raised a brow, setting her cup down slowly. "The dragon?"

Victoria actually stopped playing with the food. "Wait. The general?"

Damian ran a hand down his face. "She's here. I don't know why, I don't know how she found us, but yeah… that's her. Damn it."

Cassius leaned back in his chair, arms folding. "Well, we did say this mess was getting bigger."

"And louder," Victoria added.

Selena frowned, glancing between them. "Is she dangerous?"

Damian didn't answer right away.

"She's not someone who talks unless she already has the advantage. If she comes here in person, she wants something."

"Or she's here to kill you," Cassius said with way too much casualness.

"Thanks," Damian muttered.

Selena reached for his hand under the table without thinking.

He looked at her, surprised—but didn't pull away.

"I'll go greet her," Damian said, standing slowly. His tone had shifted back to business—cool, level, detached. The part of him that had just smiled over bread and teasing words was gone. This was the warlock now.

Selena didn't let go immediately. Her fingers tightened around Damian's hand, a silent plea lingering in her touch.

"You'll be okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damian offered a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll live," he replied. "But I guess she wants to meet me. She must have met those senators or whatever. So it's either she considers me an enemy or... she considers me a witness. I hope it's the latter."

Victoria, lounging with an air of regal indifference, arched an eyebrow. "Do you need me?"

Damian shook his head. "Not yet. Let's stick to the plan that the vampire queen is back in her territory. Not here."

Victoria's lips curved into a smirk. "Just tell me if you need it."

He nodded in acknowledgment.

Cassius glanced toward the entrance. "She's coming. I'll open the barrier for her. Just be careful, okay?"

Damian took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Understood." He gently released Selena's hand and stood, his movements deliberate.

The living room was spacious, adorned with dark, polished wood and deep crimson drapes that filtered the afternoon light into a subdued glow. The air was thick with anticipation. Damian positioned himself near the center, his posture relaxed but alert. The others remained seated, their eyes tracking his movements.

A faint ripple shimmered through the room as Cassius deactivated the protective barrier. The front door creaked open, and a gust of cool air swept in, carrying with it the scent of frost and ozone.

She entered with a commanding presence, her tall frame draped in armor that seemed to shimmer between hues of silver and icy blue. Her eyes, a piercing shade of cerulean, scanned the room with a predator's precision. Long, platinum hair cascaded down her back, partially braided in intricate patterns that spoke of ancient traditions.