Lucien woke to a burning fever that shook his whole body. He was soaked in sweat, his skin ice-cold, but inside, it felt like fire.
His chest ached. His throat was dry, every breath hurt.
He wasn’t just sick.
He was dying.
The poison was doing its work. slow, quiet, cruel, just like physician said.
Aric had planned this well, it would look like an illness.
No one would suspect a thing.
Lucien groaned and forced himself upright, grabbing the bedpost for support. The room spun immediately he got up and he felt blood rise in his throat immediately he spat into the basin beside his bed, the red splash sharp against the silver.
But something inside him pushed back.
Nyxir.
That dark, ancient power he had accepted was now fighting for him. The pain didn’t stop, but he didn’t fall.
Not yet.
“I need to see her,” he muttered, his voice weak and cracked.
He wasn’t sure why.
Maybe seeing her again would give him the strength to keep going.
Even if she stood beside Elias.
Even if she smiled at his killer.
“Elira…” he whispered.
The name hurt more than the poison.
He knew he couldn’t have her. Not anymore. Not like this.
“She’s too good,” he said weakly to himself. “Too good for a man like me.”
But he still wanted to see her.
Just once.
Lucien found Elira alone in the garden, she was standing by the large fountain. The moonlight made her face look pale.
He stepped out from the shadows.
She turned fast, her eyes wide immediately they landed on him. “Stay back,” she said, her voice shaking. “I know who you are.”
Lucien took a step forward. “Do you really?” he asked.
“You’re Lord Ardent,” she said quickly, taking a step back. “You’re dangerous. My father said you cause trouble in the court. Please... just leave me alone.”
Lucien ignored her plead “I once knew someone named Elira. She wasn’t afraid of me. She was strong.” he said, his voice low and soft
Elira’s eyes filled with fear. “Well, I'm afraid of you,” she snapped. “Why are you bothering me?”
“I’m trying to see,” Lucien said softly, “if the woman I knew is still there… or if she’s gone like everything else.”
Before Elira could say a word, hurried footsteps echoed through the garden.
Elias Thorne stormed in, his eyes locked on her.
“Lady Elira, are you alright?” he asked, his voice sharp as he stepped in front of her, looking for any signs of injury, when he found none, he sighed.
Then he turned to Lucien. “What are you doing here, Ardent? Leave her alone.”
Lucien gave a short, cold laugh. “Just talking. We’re old friends, aren’t we, Elias?”
Elias’s jaw tightened. “We were never friends,” he said. “Now leave, before I call the guards to drag you out.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” Elias said, his hand resting near his sword.
Elira stepped between them, looking from one face to the other.
“Elias... what is going on?” she asked, confusion all over her face. “Why is he saying you were friends? Everyone knows Lord Ardent doesn’t have friends.”
Elias placed a hand on Elira’s arm, gently pulling her closer.
“He’s only trying to confuse you, my dear,” he said softly. “It’s what monsters do. Come, let’s leave here.”
Elira looked back at Lucien once, her eyes full of doubt and fear.
Then she let Elias guide her away.
He clenched his jaw as he stood there watching them go. Elias’s hand rested on her back like he owned her, each step they took cut deeper than any blade.
He has taken everything.
Later that night, Lucien sat alone in a dark, run-down tavern.
The place smelled of old ale and smoke. He sat in the corner, hidden in shadow, a glass of cheap whiskey in front of him.
He took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in his chest.
Another sip.
And another.
The drink couldn’t erase the night, but it could help numb the ache a little.
Selene found him there, in the dark corner of the tavern.
She wore a simple dress that still managed to catch every eye as she moved.
She moved closer and without a word, slid into the seat across from him, resting her hands lightly on the table.
“You look so lonely, Lucien,” she said, her voice soft, almost teasing. Her eyes didn’t blink. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Lucien looked away, his fingers wrapped around the glass. “Nothing is wrong.”
Selene leaned forward, slowly reaching out to touch his arm. Her fingers traced his sleeve, gentle and lingering.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” she whispered. “You’ve changed. I see it. No one else dares to get close, but I’m not afraid of you.”
Lucien didn’t move at first
“You are Aric’s wife.” he said as he pulled his arm away,
A small smirk touched her lips. “He doesn’t care about me. He only cares about your title.”
She leaned in, her breath brushing his skin. “But you... you don’t care about anything anymore. That makes you dangerous. That makes you interesting.”
Lucien's eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Selene?”
She tilted her head, smiling darkly. “I want you to admit what you are. That you’re a monster. And that deep down, you want a monster to love you back.”
“Get out,” he said, his voice flat and cold.
Selene stood slowly, her gaze sharp and unshaken. “I know you’ll come to me, Lucien. Because no one will ever love you. But I can, I will.”
She turned and walked away, heels tapping softly on the tavern floor.
Lucien’s head was heavy from the whiskey as he stepped into his chamber. He shut the door behind him
Thud!
A knife slammed into the wood, just inches from his face.
He froze, then slowly turned.
Three dark figures stood in the center of his room, cloaked in black.
"Did Aric send you?" Lucien asked coldly.
They didn’t answer.
Without warning, the figures rushed at him.
Lucien’s senses sharpened.
Nyxir’s power pulsed through his veins.
He ducked the first attacker and slammed his elbow hard into the man's face.
The assassin stumbled back with a grunt.
Lucien ripped the knife from the door in one smooth motion and spun, driving it deep into the second man's side.
The two men hit the floor with a sickening thud, groaning in pain.
“Die, monster!” the third hissed, rushing at Lucien with rage
Lucien sidestepped the attack, grabbed the man's wrist, and twisted until the blade clattered to the ground.
Then he drove his elbow into the man’s stomach. The assassin gasped and crumpled beside the others.
Lucien stood still for a moment, his chest rising and falling. .
Without looking back, he walked out, leaving the three broken men behind.
The night air was sharp.
He moved like a shadow through the silent streets, unnoticed.
He stopped outside a large house, Elira’s house.
Lucien looked around, a tree stood nearby, its branches brushing her window.
Lucien climbed up quietly, settling on a thick branch across from her room.
The window was dark.
She was asleep
Even if she didn’t know him anymore…
Even if she feared him…
He just wanted to be near her just for a little while.