BEN’S POV
The air in the room was suffocating, a mix of tension, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood. Lucien was stable now—or at least as stable as a man battling the darkness within could be. Nana hovered over him like a sentinel, her trembling hands betraying the calmness she tried to portray. I stood by the door, my back pressed against the cool wood, my mind spinning with too many thoughts.
Lucien. Olivia. Everything.
I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift back to Lucien, lying unconscious on the bed. His face was pale, almost translucent, and his breaths came in shallow, ragged intervals. The man I had come to admire looked nothing like the unshakable figure I had always seen. The curse was eating him alive, and tonight it had almost won.
But my thoughts weren’t on Lucien
