Elara's Pov
Lucien’s expression darkened at my words, that slow, unreadable shift that always made people take a step back from fear. His body was still close, his arms braced on either side of me, the faint scent of his cologne lacing the air between us.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked quietly, his voice taut.
I tilted my head, letting my fingers drift lazily up his chest until they reached his shoulders. The fabric of his suit was warm under my palm, his muscles tense beneath it. I leaned forward just enough that his breath caught between us.
“Exactly what you think it means,” I murmured, my tone light but teasing.
His eyes narrowed. “Elara…”
I didn’t let him finish. I smirked, resting both my hands on his shoulders now and giving a faint push, enough to test his balanc
