Chapter 6: Fire beneath Ice
724 Words
Aria couldn’t stop thinking about the rain.
Or the way Lucien looked at her—like she was a storm wrapped in silk. A weapon. A weakness. A temptation he was savoring, not conquering.
She hated him for that.
But more than that, she hated the heat he’d planted in her.
The next day, she found herself pacing the library again. Barefoot. Hair twisted up messily. She didn’t realize she was waiting until the door creaked open behind her.
She froze.
Lucien entered with slow steps, hands in his pockets. He wore a deep gray sweater this time, sleeves pushed up to his forearms. Casual. Calculated. Dangerous.
“You didn’t run when I left you in the rain,” he said.
She turned. “I didn’t run because I’m not afraid.”
His gaze flicked down her body and back up—slow, deliberate.
“You should be.”
Aria crossed her arms. “If you’re trying to seduce me with tension and vague threats, congratulations—you’re predictable.”
Lucien laughed. It was the first real laugh she’d heard from him. It was deep, rough, and far too real.
“Predictable,” he echoed. “You wound me.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “You’re trying too hard. I know your type.”
He stepped closer. “Do you?”
“Control freak. Probably emotionally stunted. Thinks brooding makes him sexy.”
He raised a brow. “You do fantasize about me.”
“I analyze,” she said coolly. “There’s a difference.”
“Is that what you’re doing right now?” he asked. “Analyzing the way your pulse jumps when I get close?”
He was in front of her now.
Not touching.
But too close.
Aria’s breath hitched, barely.
She tilted her chin. “Maybe I just want to slap you again.”
Lucien smiled faintly. “Do it.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Slap me,” he repeated. “Hurt me if it gives you back your sense of power. I’ll take it. Every strike. Every scream. As long as you’re looking at me like that.”
Her mouth went dry.
“You’re sick,” she whispered.
“No,” he said. “I’m honest.”
Then he turned his back to her—exposing his spine, his neck. The ultimate show of trust.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Remind yourself you’re in control.”
Aria’s hand twitched at her side.
She didn’t slap him.
Instead, she walked around him slowly, deliberately, until they were face to face again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “I want to understand you.”
Lucien’s smile vanished. “No one does that.”
“Maybe that’s why you’ve turned yourself into something people fear.”
He stared at her for a long moment. The silence between them buzzed.
Then, softly: “You have no idea what I’ve done.”
“Then show me,” she said. “Tell me who you were before you became this… king of shadows.”
He looked at her like she’d offered him something no one ever had.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I don’t believe monsters are born,” she replied. “And I don’t think you’re beyond redemption.”
Lucien stepped forward, crowding her space.
“I don’t want redemption.”
“Then why keep me alive?” she countered. “Why talk to me? Why write to me? Why not just use me, break me, and toss me away like you do with everyone else?”
He exhaled slowly, tension rippling across his jaw.
“Because you're not like them,” he said.
She swallowed hard. “And that scares you.”
He didn’t answer.
He reached out slowly, giving her time to move—but she didn’t.
His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head, thumb brushing behind her ear. His other hand pressed gently to her lower back, pulling her just enough to feel his body heat.
But he didn’t kiss her.
He leaned in—until his lips were a breath away from hers—and whispered:
“You think I’m the dangerous one here. But you’re the one undoing me.”
Then he let go.
Walked out.
And left her shaking.
- Writer
