Maybe he's not just a monster.
1248 Words
Anara.
Silas turned toward me slowly, his pale silver eyes glinting,studying me, not like a man, but like a soldier sizing up his weapon, and then he spoke.
“I expected someone louder,” he said calmly.
“Someone who screamed when the bond awakened.”
I raised a brow. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. His movements were smooth, controlled — like he didn’t waste energy unless he meant to destroy something.
“You’re not disappointing,” he said. “Just… uncertain. Like a blade not yet drawn.”
I blinked, confused actually . “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“It’s an observation.”
His gaze swept over me again. Not with lust. Not even with interest . It was more like... warning.
“There’s something in you,” he said, voice low now. “Buried beneath fear, confusion… and fire. I’ve seen curses wear skin. Fought things that bled shadows. But you—”
“You smell like ruin and rebirth. Like something old trying to rise.”
The hair on my arms prickled.
I crossed my arms tightly. “You’re not afraid of me.”
Silas gave a faint, humorless smile.
“No. But I respect the storm before it strikes.”
Behind me, the door creaked open.
Lucien stepped in like he owned more than the room — like he owned gravity itself.
“Careful, Silas,” he said smoothly. “You’ll scare her.”
I turned just as Lucien approached, dark and flawless as always. His gold-ringed eyes flicked between them, sharp and unreadable.
“If she’s frightened,” Silas replied, “she hides it well.”
Lucien came to my side, his presence brushing against my skin like smoke.
“She does many things well,” he said, gaze locked on me now. “Including waking ancient bloodlines... and irritating me.” oh wow, and he doesn't irritate me too? I thought to myself.
I glared up at him, but said nothing.I am definitely not in his mood.
Lucien looked to Silas. “And your impression?”
Silas’s expression stayed neutral. “She’s not ready. But she’s not weak.”
“That's good, she's not such a lost cause after all”I closed my eyes, allowing him not to get to me, then turned to Silas.
“May I ask why I've been summoned actually?”he starts walking around me in circles.
“Some days ago your shadow moved on its own. Lashed out. Drew blood. Protected you.”
“that was just a fluke—”he cut me short
“magic doesn't fluke. Your power… it listens when you don't speak. It acts when you're weak” he pauses in front of me now. Arms behind his back.
“Lucien told me to observe you. But I didn't call you to just obey” he paused then continued
“I called you because I wanted to see what kind of threat he's brought into our walls” I swallowed hard. My voice came out quieter than intended
“So what do you see now?”
“not a threat”he said
“not yet. But you're not harmless either”
“and if your magic ever turns on him—”
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The warning hung in the air, cold and direct.
“you'd kill me” he's expression didn't flicker.
“without hesitation. But only if I must”he clears his throat
“it was nice meeting you lady anara. We'll train tomorrow, I must take my leave now”he said with a slight bow and left. I sigh, Lucien was still here. I spared him one last glance and went to my room.
I stood by the tall, arched window, my fingers grazing the cold crystal as I stared into the eternal twilight beyond. Shadows moved like mist outside, and though there was no sun, the sky still glowed — silver, strange, and watching. I stood there for a while, wondering how I had gotten myself into this.
Night came by quickly and again, I had gotten all dolled up to dine with the hybrid king, so exciting.
Eira escorted me as usual and I made my way to sit.
I felt his gaze linger on me as I sat at the long obsidian table but I didn't say a word, the shadows still curling lazily in the corners.
“You haven’t said a word,” he murmured, lifting his glass.
“Is the food not to your taste?”
I glanced at the untouched plate. “It’s fine. I’m just… not that hungry.”
Lucien leaned back slightly, watching me.
“Do you miss her?” he asked.
I looked up. “Who?”
“Your aunt. The one who raised you.”
The question hit me like a slow, quiet punch. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t even unexpected. But the fact that he noticed—that he remembered—unsettled me more than any threat ever had.
“She’s all I’ve ever had,” I admitted softly, surprising even myself.
“Even when she didn’t understand me… she stayed.”
Lucien’s expression was unreadable. But his voice dropped, lower, quieter.
“And yet… you left.”
“I didn’t choose this,” I snapped.
Lucien leaned forward, resting an elbow on the arm of his chair. His voice was smooth, but his eyes were sharp.
“Didn’t you?”
I blinked. “You think I wanted to be ripped away from my life? To be dragged into a cursed realm because my blood glowed like a damn beacon?”
His lips curled—not quite a smile, but close. “Glowing blood... Yes. That’s about what it looked like.”
I clenched her jaw and sat back. “You’re enjoying this.”
“No,” he said simply. “But I enjoy watching you unravel.”
A pause settled between us like thick smoke.
Lucien’s gaze dropped to my plate, still untouched.
“Eat,” he said, voice low. “Your strength will not hold if you starve yourself.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You will be.” His tone left no room for argument.
Still, I didn’t move.
He rose slowly, the chair scraping lightly against the floor. He didn’t walk around the table—he appeared beside me, silent and swift.
He picked up my fork, and without asking, cut a piece of whatever strange meat had been served. The smell was rich, seasoned with herbs I couldn't name.
He held the fork out to me, eyes gleaming gold in the dim light.
“You summoned me, Anara,” he said quietly.
“You fed me your blood. The least you can do… is accept a bite from my table.”
My breath caught. The moment felt too intimate, too charged.
But I opened my mouth.
And he fed me.
The taste was surprisingly good—spiced, warm, and melting over my tongue.
Lucien’s gaze never left me. It made me feel unsettled.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
My heart stuttered.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t look away.
Neither did he.
The moment I swallowed the food, a strange memory… Or vision hit me, fire, blood, screaming shadows. It's not mine.
I gasp clutching the table, he catches my wrist, eyes narrowing
“You saw it didn't you?”
- Writer
