The Compound was quiet.
Not silent — it never was — but quiet in a way that felt intentional. Like the entire building knew Lucien had taken me into his quarters and decided to give him space.
Lucien sat beside me on the bed, one hand resting on the blanket near my hip, the other braced on his knee. He wasn’t touching me, but he was close enough that I could feel the heat of him.
Close enough that I could feel the tension in his body.
Close enough that I could feel the storm he was holding back.
I turned toward him. “Lucien.”
His eyes lifted to mine — slow, deliberate, heavy.
“Aria.”
“You’re still tense.”
He exhaled, a low sound that wasn’t quite a sigh. “I’m trying not to be.”
“Why?”
His jaw tightened. “Because you’re here. And I don’t want you to see me like this.”
I blinked.
