His Mate, His Prey

The Distance Between Us

[Lucien]

Sleep felt impossible.

My wife's body lay curled beside mine, her back pressed to my chest, the enticing scent of her hair teasing my senses. My arm was rested over her waist, and though I was still and quiet, her heartbeat told me everything I needed to know.

She wasn't asleep either.

There was something off from her breathing, how she didn't lean into me. Like she was purposely trying to keep some distance.

I didn't know why.

Hell, I didn't know much of anything. Not even my name although it was at the tip of my tongue.

The rain outside had softened into a steady rhythm like the world was finally beginning to calm down—but inside me, it was chaos. Who was I? What kind of relationship did I have with my wife? What exactly were we doing here?

"Lucien!" A voice suddenly called out from outside. It was male—loud, sharp, and far too familiar for comfort.

I sat up instantly. Every muscle in my body tensed, eyes narrowing toward the entrance of the cave.

Another call followed, closer. "Lucien, answer me!"

I rose to my feet in one swift movement, senses on high alert. ‘Lucien? Is that my name?’

It felt like.

Violet moved beside me, her posture tight. I caught her hand and pulled her gently behind me, shielding her without thinking.

"Someone's coming," I murmured.

A figure appeared at the mouth of the cave. Tall, broad-shouldered, soaked to the bone. Dressed in white with back length brown hair tied behind his neck.

His eyes scanned the cave, landing on me—then Violet.

I didn't know him. Not by memory. But something inside me reacted—call it familiarity by instinct.

"Who are you?" I asked, voice cold.

The man blinked, taking a step forward. "It's me. Fenrick."

'Fenrick?' I searched my mind but it was mostly blank.

He looked at me as if he was seeing a ghost. His brows creased when I didn't respond.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said. "I came to take you home."

Home?

I stared at him. The familiarity in his face, the quiet concern in his tone. That alone was proof that we were close to some extent. But I didn't remember him.

I turned slightly, glancing back at Violet. The only person I trusted in this mess.

"Wife," I said quietly, the word tasting natural and sacred at the same time. "Can this man be trusted?"

Her eyes widened.

Fenrick flinched like the world had slapped him across the face. His head snapped toward Violet, eyes wide.

"Wife?" he asked, his voice low.

I didn't look at him. I watched her.

She lifted her chin and nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "He can be trusted, dear."

Fenrick opened his mouth like he wanted to argue. But then... he didn't.

Something passed through his expression. Surprise, restraint... grief?

And then he smiled. Barely.

***

We travelled on what he called a speedboat.

My wife sat beside me, her eyes locked on the horizon as Fenrick manned the controls. She hadn't spoken since we left the island—no, she'd barely spoken after I broke her ankle cuffs.

The water slapped at the boat, soaking into our clothes again, though it no longer mattered. We'd been wet since the chase began. So now, the cold wasn't from the rain or the river.

It came from something else entirely.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, and her gaze didn't waver. She didn't hold my hand. She didn't lean in. She just stared ahead, distant.

I reached out, wanting to share my warmth with her but she flinched as if the whole gesture was something new.

'Is she... afraid of me?' I wondered, taking the hint to sit put.

By the time the island faded behind us and land came into view, my chest felt heavier with questions about my identity.

We reached shore in record time. Fenrick had a car waiting.

He opened the back door for us, and she slid in first without a word. I followed, settling beside her, the seat leather squeaking under my weight. Fenrick got in the front, started the engine, and merged into traffic.

The silence in the car was worse.

I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror. So did Fenrick.

Only... he wasn't looking at the road.

His eyes were on my woman and I found the gesture... annoying.

Again.

And again.

I cleared my throat. "Is there something on my wife's face?"

His gaze snapped back to the road as if caught off guard.

A beat passed.

Then he sighed. "Nothing in particular. I’m just… surprised that—“

“Dear!” She interrupted, entwining her arm with mine. “I’d like to rest my eyes a little so could you turn the music on?”

Fenrick obliged and we didn't speak after that.

When we arrived, Fenrick pulled into an estate lined with mansions without needing directions.

I looked at our stop and blinked at it like it might help stir a memory. "I don't have my keys," I said before I realized how stupid that sounded.

Fenrick didn't miss a beat. "I've got it."

He pulled out a spare, as casually as if it were his own place, and unlocked the front door for us. She walked in first, silent still, and I followed—pausing only when Fenrick handed me the key.

He didn't stay long. With a nod, a tight smile, and he was back in his car, tyres crunching softly against the wet road. “Be careful, Lucien.” He had subtly warned before leaving.

I stared at the key in my palm for a moment too long.

"Just how close are we that I trusted him with this?" The question was more or less directed towards my wife who I had yet to ask her name. But she didn't answer.

Inside, the place smelled expensive—clean and polished with subtle notes of cologne and leather. The house looked like something out of a magazine—marble floors, high ceilings. Art hung on the walls. A chandelier caught the overhead light. And the furniture... definitely not cheap.

I let out a low breath, glancing around the space. At least I knew one thing—I was filthy rich.

That made things easier.

My gaze shifted toward her. She stood by the staircase, unmoving. I stepped closer.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

She nodded slowly, then turned to me with a faint, unreadable expression. "You can call me Violet."

My hand shot out for hers, unable to ignore the awkwardness any longer. "Violet. Have I wronged you?"

She slowly peeled her arm away and began to ascend the steps. "Dear, wait for me in the living room?" She said without answering my question.

"Of course." I didn't question her. Just obeyed.

She climbed the stairs, and I headed toward the living room, sinking into the plush sofa as I took everything in.

I barely had time to let my muscles relax when the doorbell rang.

I frowned and stood, stepping over to the entrance, expecting to see Fenrick.

When I opened it, a woman practically collapsed into my arms.

"Please," she whispered, clutching my shirt. "Please reconsider, Lulu. Just... at least visit her. Visit your daughter. She wants to see you."

My brain almost short-circuited.

"I know you're mad, but I love you so much," she said, voice trembling. "You can't really want her to grow up without a father. You know what that's like. You wouldn't do that to her. To us."

I froze, staring blankly while trying to breathe through my nose.

Daughter?

What daughter?

My eyes widened. I looked down at her—this woman with vibrant red curls, makeup running in the corners of her eyes, and her entire body was trembling. And I had no idea who the hell she was.

"I—who are you?" I rasped. "What are you talking about?"

She blinked. "Lucien... what? It's me. Marielle." She laughed nervously. "Are you feeling okay?" Her hand lifted toward my neck.

I caught it mid-air, reflexively.

Her brows furrowed, but then her expression shifted—melting into something seductive. She stepped closer, arms looping through mine. The swell of her chest pressed against me.

"I miss you," she purred. "So much."

I stepped back quickly, untangling her arms from mine.

"Marielle, was it?" My voice was tight. Controlled. "You need to leave."

"What—but Lulu, please don't do this—"

Lulu?! What the f**k was a Lulu?

I pushed her past the doorway and shut the door with a heavy slam, locking it immediately.

Then I slumped back against the wood, chest heaving.

My mind was racing and I shut my eyes, running frustrated fingers through my hair. 'What the hell is happening?'

The house felt too quiet again.

"She misses me? And worst of all... a daughter?"

A damn daughter with a woman that wasn't my wife?

And she said it like I had chosen to walk away.

My mind spun. Was that why Violet kept her distance? Why she barely ever met my eyes, even when I held her? Had I... betrayed her? Slept with another woman, had a child, and maybe left them both behind?

Had my wife run away because of me?

And if I was capable of that kind of cruelty, what else had I done?

My gaze hardened and I feared that things might only get worse from now on.

And somehow, I was afraid of the man I might have been.