Unanswered questions
1393 Words
Anara.
Lucien’s head snapped up from where he sat beside me, his expression darkening instantly.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Lucien growled before Darius could even take a step closer. “You told her to tap into something she clearly isn’t ready for!”
Darius blinked, caught off guard by the sudden bite in Lucien’s tone. “I didn’t force her, Lucien. She wanted to try—”
“And you just let her?” Lucien rose slowly, his body tense, eyes glowing faintly with restrained fury. “You saw what she became. You felt it. You call that training?”
Darius raised both hands slightly, keeping his voice calm. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her. You know I wouldn’t. She was curious about her powers and I thought—”
“You thought,” Lucien cut in coldly, “without thinking at all.”
“Lucien…” I called out, but he didn’t look at me.
“I felt it from across the castle. Her magic nearly slipped—if she hadn’t been pulled out of it, we might have lost her.”
“Alright,” Darius said, voice dropping with quiet guilt. “I messed up. I admit that. But don’t act like you’re the only one who cares.”
Lucien froze.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, slowly, his shoulders loosened just enough.
He turned back to me. His eyes were still hard, but there was something else there now—worry, fear… helplessness. “She means more than you think,” he muttered under his breath.
Darius let out a small sigh. “I get it, cousin. I do.”
Lucien stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “Just… be careful with her.”
“I will.”
Then Darius looked to me. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
I hid my face in my palms “Like I’m not even sure I belong in this body anymore.”
His gaze softened with concern. “You still look cute with your swollen doe eyes, though.”
A breathy laugh slipped past my lips, despite everything.
“That’s better,” he said with a crooked grin. Then more quietly, “Don’t cry, Anara. You don’t deserve to cry over this.”
Lucien stood still for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he turned to Darius.
“Tell Eira to bring a bowl of warm water and a cloth,” he said quietly.
Darius gave a small nod before leaving.
Moments later, the door creaked open again as Eira stepped in with a silver tray.
Her eyes immediately found me, wide with concern. “Goddess,” she whispered under her breath as she approached.
“I’ll do it,” Lucien said, stepping between her and the bed.
She hesitated. “But—”
He didn’t look at her. “Leave us.”
Eira blinked, glanced once at me, then gave a short bow and exited with Darius right behind her.
Silence stretched.
Lucien set the bowl on the table beside the bed and dipped the cloth in it, wringing it out with precise movements.
He moved gently, kneeling before me.
Something shifted in my chest. Something warm and confusing and unwanted.
But then I remembered what he’d said.
"What exactly are you trying to achieve, Anara?"
I swallowed and shifted back slightly. “You don’t have to,” I said quietly, my voice low and tired. “You’ve done enough. I’m fine.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t stop. “You’re bleeding.”
“Still… I mean, you shouldn’t have to.” My throat tightened.
He paused, cloth hovering over my cheek. “let me take care of you anara”
Before I could say anything else, the cloth brushed against my skin—warm, careful.
Not just cleaning blood but touching like he was afraid I’d shatter.
When he was done, he placed the cloth back in the bowl and sat beside me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “For dragging you away from whatever you were doing. I’ll be more careful from now on. I promise not to disturb you again.”
He was quiet for a bit.
Then his voice came, low and rough. “You’re not a disturbance, Anara.”
That made me look at him. Really look at him.
He was already turning away. But I couldn’t stop looking at him.
"You say that," I murmured, voice trembling, “but sometimes it feels like… I'm just a duty to you. A burden you can’t shake."
He stopped mid-motion.
Silence filled the room like smoke. Heavy. Suffocating.
Lucien finally turned his head, his golden eyes locking with mine. "If you were a burden, I wouldn’t be here."
"Then what am I?" I asked before I could stop myself. My heart pounded painfully in my chest.
“Because I don’t know anymore. One minute you’re kind, then the next you’re pushing me away. And I know you said I was just meant to wake you but…” I trailed off.
He stood, running a hand through his hair as though frustrated by something even he couldn’t name.
“You want answers I can’t give,” he said. “Because I don’t even understand what this is.”
“This?” I echoed,my voice rising too. “You mean... me? Or us?”
His jaw flexed. “All of it.”
I looked away, blinking against the sting in my eyes. “I didn’t ask for any of this either, Lucien. But I’m here. Trapped. Scared. And trying to understand things I never even believed in months ago.”
His chest rose and fell. “I know.”
I faced him again. “Do you? Because it doesn’t feel like you do. It feels like you’re always one step away from walking out.”
He stared at me for so long, I almost regretted speaking. Almost.
Then, voice low, he said, “When I felt your energy collapse... I’ve never moved faster in my life. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.”
“Then stop making me feel like I’m alone in this,” I said softly.
Something cracked behind his gaze. He stepped forward slowly, then lifted his hand—hesitated—and brushed a thumb gently under my eye.
“No one’s ever gotten under my skin like this,” he muttered.
“Is that a good thing?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet,” he said honestly. “But I don’t want anything to happen to you. Ever.”
My heart skipped a beat. His hand lingered against my cheek.
And then I whispered, “I’m still scared, Lucien.”
“I know,” he said, drawing just a little closer. “But I’m here.”
And for a moment, that was enough.
Lucien’s fingers lingered at my cheek for just a second longer before he let his hand fall to his side. The warmth of his touch still tingled against my skin.
"You should try and get some rest," he said quietly, eyes scanning my face like he wasn’t quite ready to look away.
I nodded, though the tightness in my chest didn’t ease. Sleep felt like an impossible thing right now.
He turned slightly, as if preparing to leave, but then paused. His voice was softer this time. “Do you want me to stay?”
My heart skipped.
I wanted to say yes. God, I wanted to say yes. Just his presence made the fear fade. But I knew it would only make things harder—whatever this thing between us was, it was already pulling me in too deep.
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a small smile. “You should go.”
He studied me for a moment longer, unreadable as always, before giving a slow nod. “If you need anything…”
I nodded again. “I’ll call.”
He hesitated. Then turned and walked to the door, the space somehow colder without him in it.
As the door shut behind him, I finally sank into the bed, the silence feeling heavier than ever.
And I couldn’t help but wonder—
If I kept pushing him away to protect myself, how long before he stopped coming back?
- Writer
