Varg Pov
"Seems more like the rumors got to you," Lucian said, clicking his tongue as he set the whiskey bottle on the table with a deliberate thud. His tone was calm, almost mocking, as though my words were nothing more than idle gossip to him.
I stared at him, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Don’t play coy with me, Lucian. You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? Using Lyra as a pawn in whatever twisted game you’re playing?”
He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms casually, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “And what exactly is it you think you know?” he asked, his voice smooth but laced with challenge. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re grasping at straws, Varg.”
My fists clenched, the wood of the armrest groaning under the pressure of my gri
