Selene's POV
Lucian leaned against the edge of the mahogany desk, his glass of whiskey catching the dim light as he swirled it absentmindedly. The amber liquid shifted with a slow, deliberate rhythm, matching the quiet intensity in his gaze as he stared out the window. His usual commanding presence seemed subdued, the weight of unspoken burdens pulling his shoulders taut.
I stood a few paces away, unsure if I should speak or if my presence was enough to disrupt the silence that clung to the room like a thick fog. This wasn't the kind of silence that begged to be filled. It was the kind that demanded to be understood.
I felt the tension in the air, not from any lingering animosity but from the exhaustion that seemed to emanate from him. Lucian, the king of the underworld, was no longer
