CHAPTER 6: THE CONFESSION OF THE ASH KING
1217 Words
“Tell me about the women you burned.”
Lucian didn’t move.
His hand hovered over the whiskey glass—
then stopped.
The fire cracked softly behind him.
Too loud in the silence.
When he turned—
his eyes weren’t gold.
They weren’t gray.
They were… empty.
“That,” he said quietly,
“is not a question you ask unless you’re prepared to bleed from the answer.”
“Try me.”
A long pause.
Then—
he poured the whiskey.
Drank it.
Didn’t react.
Poured another.
“Four,” he said finally.
My chest tightened.
“Four women in five thousand years.”
A beat.
“Three I burned.”
The words settled heavy in the room.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t interrupt.
If I spoke—
I might lose my nerve.
“The first,” he said, staring into the fire,
“was two hundred years after I was turned.”
His voice was distant now.
Like he wasn’t in the room anymore.
“I didn’t understand the bond,” he continued.
“I thought… if I chose someone hard enough… she would become mine.”
A pause.
“Her name was Seraphine.”
Something flickered in his expression.
Gone too fast to read.
“She was kind,” he said.
“Gentle.”
My throat tightened.
“She lasted six months.”
The fire popped.
“Then she tried to kill me in my sleep.”
I exhaled slowly.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I let her go.”
Relief hit—
then died instantly.
“But the wolf didn’t.”
My stomach dropped.
“He followed her,” Lucian said softly.
A pause.
“And when she chose another man…”
His jaw tightened.
“He tore him apart.”
Silence.
“I felt everything,” Lucian added.
Quieter now.
“But I couldn’t stop it.”
A chill crawled through me.
“The second?” I asked.
His hand tightened around the glass.
“A century later.”
A pause.
“I chose a wolf this time.”
His lips curved slightly.
Not in amusement.
In something bitter.
“I thought she would understand what I was.”
My pulse slowed.
“Her name was Brynhild.”
Another pause.
“She lasted three years.”
Longer.
Worse.
“Then she met her true mate.”
The word true echoed.
“And everything between us… shattered.”
My chest tightened.
“She begged me to let her go.”
A beat.
“I did.”
I held my breath.
“But the wolf…”
his voice dropped,
“did not forgive her for leaving.”
My stomach twisted.
“He made her watch,” Lucian said,
“as he killed the one she loved.”
Silence crushed the room.
“You didn’t have control?” I whispered.
“Not then.”
His voice sharpened.
“I spent a thousand years trapped inside my own body.”
A step toward the fire.
“The Ash King they fear?”
A pause.
“That wasn’t a title.”
His eyes flickered gold.
“It was a warning.”
My pulse spiked.
“That wasn’t you,” I said.
His gaze snapped to mine.
“Wasn’t it?”
The question hung between us.
I didn’t answer.
“Third,” I said instead.
His hands trembled.
This time—
he didn’t hide it.
“Two thousand years ago,” he said.
A long breath.
“I had control.”
A pause.
“Or I believed I did.”
My chest tightened.
“She was human.”
Something in his voice shifted.
Softer.
“Her name was Mira.”
The name lingered.
“She came to me for money.”
His gaze lifted.
Met mine.
“Like you.”
The words hit—
but I didn’t flinch.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I didn’t cage her,” he said.
“I didn’t control her.”
A bitter smile.
“I tried to be… human.”
A pause.
“I gave her flowers. Walked with her in the rain. Let her choose every step.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“And?”
“She chose someone else.”
The words landed quietly.
A baker, he explained.
Warm. Simple. Safe.
Everything Lucian wasn’t.
“I let her go.”
Silence.
“But the wolf…”
His voice broke slightly.
“…learned patience.”
Cold spread through me.
“How long?” I asked.
“Five years.”
My breath hitched.
“He waited five years.”
The fire flickered.
“On her wedding night…”
Lucian stopped.
For the first time—
he looked shaken.
“He didn’t kill her,” I said.
Lucian looked at me.
“No.”
A pause.
“He killed everyone else.”
The room tilted.
“Eighty-three people,” he said quietly.
My hands clenched.
“And then he burned the church.”
Silence.
“With her inside?” I whispered.
“No.”
A beat.
“He made her watch.”
Something inside me twisted hard.
“That,” Lucian said,
“was the last time I lost control.”
A long pause.
“I spent the next three thousand years destroying that version of myself.”
His voice dropped.
“Or trying to.”
I stood slowly.
I should have run.
Everything in me said run.
Instead—
I stepped toward him.
He flinched.
Actually flinched.
Like he expected me to leave.
“Lucian.”
He didn’t look at me.
“Look at me.”
Slowly—
he did.
Gold flickered beneath gray.
Unstable.
“You think fear is what makes you a monster,” I said.
A step closer.
“It’s not.”
His jaw tightened.
“It’s what you do with it.”
Silence.
“You let me walk into your territory,” I continued.
“You gave me a choice.”
Another step.
“You haven’t touched me without permission.”
His breath hitched slightly.
“That’s not the Ash King.”
A pause.
“That’s a man fighting.”
His eyes darkened.
“What if I lose?” he asked.
The question wasn’t rhetorical.
It was real.
I closed the distance.
Reached out.
Took his hand.
He gasped.
Like the contact hurt.
“Then you won’t lose alone,” I said.
Silence.
Heavy.
“You want me here for a month?” I added.
His grip tightened slightly.
“Then stop watching me from the shadows.”
A beat.
“Stand beside me.”
His gaze dropped to our hands.
“I don’t know how,” he admitted.
“I’ve spent five thousand years learning how not to destroy things.”
A pause.
“I don’t know how to keep them.”
Something in my chest softened—
dangerously.
“Then we learn,” I said.
Another silence.
Longer.
Then—
slowly—
he lifted my hand.
Pressed his lips to my knuckles.
Not hunger.
Not dominance.
Something deeper.
Reverence.
“One month,” he whispered.
His voice rough.
Unsteady.
“Goddess help us both.”
I should have felt safe.
Instead—
a single thought settled deep in my chest—
If he loses control…
I won’t be like the others.
Because this time—
he won’t let me go.
- Writer
