He couldn’t believe he had just spilled everything. His past, his pain, the war that turned him into a beast forged by blood and rage. And yet, as Aria’s gentle touch rested on his arm, he felt something else. Something he hadn’t felt in years.
Acceptance.
Her eyes shimmered with understanding, her fingers tracing soothing circles along his skin. “You didn’t deserve any of that, Lucian. No one does.”
He looked away, his chest tightening. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. I became the monster they made me, and I embraced it because it was all I had left.”
“No,” she whispered, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You’re not a monster. You’re broken, but you’re not beyond repair. I see you, Lucian. The real you.”
The sincerity in her voice pierced
