Chapter Thirty-Seven
I FOUND HIM DRINKING TEA OUTSIDE in his courtyard.
Unlike other people in my life who drank hot beverages just for the caffeine-hit, Lucien didn’t throw back a mug of whatever. Instead—either thanks to sheer boredom or his heritage—he made it a ritual.
The white china teapot was painted with blue oriental dragons. The teacup covered in matching periwinkle clouds. Steam rose from the teapot spout, hinting he’d only just sat down after doing whatever it was that he did in the mornings.
Did he exercise?
Did he swim?
I’d found an indoor swimming pool last week while cleaning—okay, snooping. The west side of the palace had been transformed from an impressive greenhouse into a long glass-covered indoor swimming pool, complete with a steam room, ice plunge, and spa.
It didn’t make sense why—if he was a prisoner—they delivered such incredible food and spared no expense on health and wellness equipment.
Why wasn’t he trapped in a prison cell or a small cabin in the middle of nowhere?
But...if I looked at it in the way of keeping their investment as healthy and robust as possible, it gave a morbid twist to his luxurious cage.
They needed him alive for as long as his body would hold out—even with the regular torture.
“So you do remember the way, after all,” he muttered, sipping his cup and glowering at the single tree in the centre of the courtyard. “I was beginning to wonder when you didn’t show up yesterday.”
Here we go...
Verbal admonishment coming up.
I would take whatever he wanted to dish out, so I could come out the other side and do my best to make him see me. See my good intentions. See that I wasn’t like the others. See that I was ready to be his friend.
Bracing myself, I moved to stand in front of him. “Go on then, scold me.” I froze as my gaze darted over him. “Wait...”
He really didn’t look good.
His usual predator-like stillness couldn’t hide the barest of tremors.
His dark eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep while dark crescents bruised the skin beneath.
His cheekbones cut sharply, and all the colour had leeched from his mouth.
Even the hand holding the teacup trembled before he steadied it against his knee.
“I knew it!” I rushed to touch him but stopped myself. “That’s why you didn’t come to fetch me. You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
I scowled. “You look like death chewed you up and spat you out.”
“Good morning to you, too.” He stiffened as his gaze danced over my face, drinking me in like I’d drank him. “You seem concerned about my welfare yet...what happened to you?”
I stood taller and arched my chin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You had another episode, didn’t you?”
I crossed my arms, unnerved that he could read me so well. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”
“You truly are one of the worst they’ve thrown in here,” he murmured, sipping his tea like an emperor. “Completely hopeless.”
My temper sparked, but I held my tongue.
I won’t argue. I’ll be nice...
“Why didn’t you use what I gave you?” Throwing back the last mouthful of tea, he placed the delicate cup back on the shell-inlaid side table and stood.
“At least one of us wouldn’t have been in pain last night.
” His jaw clenched, causing the tendons in his throat to appear.
His signature black shirt and trousers were covered with his floor-length black coat, the front buttons done up as if he felt a chill even in the morning sun.
The urge to go to him and offer support, even if he didn’t accept it, made my legs itchy to move.
“So you did suffer last night,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”
He utterly ignored me. “Why didn’t you drink the vial?”
The desperation to ask for another dose of his strange painkilling blood stung my tongue. Just being around him made my system misfire and all that intensity scraped at my bones, promising another rough night of emotional whiplash.
But I couldn’t just come out and say I needed another dose.
It would make me like them.
He’d hate me even more than he already did.
“I...” I smiled the best I could. “I—”
“Had it stolen from you, didn’t you?” He smirked and brushed past me, heading toward the palace.
“How did you—?”
“Wait.” He spun around so fast, his coat flared around his legs. “They actually stole it?”
I blushed and ducked my chin. How did he do that? How did he ferret out the truth when I had absolutely no intention of admitting it? “It’s fine. I hadn’t really had any intention of drinking—”
“Why?” he snapped, cutting me off with a snarl. “How are you the only person in this world who looks as if I’m trying to poison you, when everyone else would happily bleed me dry? Would you rather hurt that much than take something that I gave you?”
Moving toward him, overwhelming gratitude filled me as Whisper came to join us, slinking lazily through the door and weaving first around Lucien and then around me, almost as if encouraging us not to fight.
“Believe me,” I said quietly, my heart skipping a beat as I lost myself in Lucien’s fathomless stare. “I learned my lesson last night.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I would’ve happily drunk every droplet, despite my aversion.” I shrugged. “Last night was...rough.”
“So that’s why you’re here?” He sniffed. “You had the first bottle stolen and now expect me to give you another?”
“No!” I blurted, a knee-jerk reaction before I slouched with a wince. “I mean...maybe?”
He laughed icily. “I wondered when you would finally stop lying to me.” He pointed a finger in my face. “So you are just like them. You’re just after my blood and—”
“No!” I cut in, my own temper clashing with his. “I still find it abhorrent what they do to you and if I had any other option, there is no way I would ask you to help me—especially like that. But...next time...if I get that bad, perhaps I could come to you, and you could—”
“Let you drink straight from my vein?”
“What?” My cheeks burned in horror. “No, I—”
“Get to work,” he cut me off yet again, stepping through the door into the huge living room. “The more chores you do, the more salary I’ll owe you. Isn’t that how our little arrangement works?”
Following him, my mind raced on how to respond.
How had this happened?
I’d come here needing to be kind to him.
I’d arrived with my heart full of guilt for what Laura did to Whisper and gratitude that he’d tried to prevent me from suffering.
Yet...how was I supposed to break this animosity between us?
How could I bridge the gap from boss and employee, captive and villain when he only saw me as one of them?
We both didn’t want to be here. We were both lonely. Both suffering. Instead of keeping our guard up around one another, wouldn’t it make sense to be on each other’s side?
Before I could stop myself, I dashed in front of him and spread my arms.
He wasn’t expecting a roadblock and slammed into me.
Our bodies collided and instantly ignited. I gasped as his force shoved me back, making me trip—
His arm snapped tight around my waist, jerking me against him, stopping me from falling by making me fall into him instead. My hands landed on his chest; our eyes locked.
He was so tall, he made me feel fragile and tiny, even as his arm snared tighter, pinning me against his lean, powerful body.
I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move.
His gaze fell to my mouth and a heavy exhale escaped him as if touching me affected him in the same way. The shadows in his stare faded. His churning hatred and hollow misery broke apart like clouds the longer we—
“What are you doing?” Shoving me back, he stepped away, his hands curling into fists.
“I’m...” I literally had no idea what I was doing. “I’m...” My heart thundered, and if I didn’t do something to break the spell, I might very well try to touch him again. Kiss him again. Throw myself into the chaos that always swirled around us the moment we were in the same room together.
Glancing around his home—seeking a distraction from the crackling chemistry, I locked onto the only thing that made sense.
I’d mopped, dusted, polished, and tidied every inch of this place. Instead of trying to convince him I could be trusted as a friend, I latched onto a ridiculous notion of proving my reliability by directing his attention to the only thing I’d done for him. Even if it had been done under duress.
Pointing at the closest side table—a gorgeous piece carved like a miniature weeping willow—the branches and leaves an absolute nightmare to dust—I said, “Do you see how clean that table is?” Rushing toward the library shelves, I waved left and right.
“Do you see how each book is dust-free? How the shelves sparkle?”
He crossed his arms. “Your point?”
“My point?” I swallowed hard as Whisper yawned and padded past. “My point is...I’ve done what you asked. I’ve obeyed you—”
“And in return, you want more of my blood. I get it.”
My heart sank.
“Don’t worry.” His lips tipped into a mocking smile. “I’m used to it. You don’t have to pretend you care for me just because you’ve finally figured out how I can benefit you.”
“That’s not what this is,” I whispered. “That’s not—”
“I’ll still pay you what you’re owed.” His chuckle was laced with frost, even as something broke inside him. “As long as you do what I say, I’ll keep you alive and compensate you accordingly.”
My cheeks turned red, blaring my shame before I could lie.
Revealing the truth that somewhere along the line, I had learned how he could benefit me and it wasn’t what he thought.
I hadn’t expected it. Didn’t really want it.
And definitely didn’t know how to survive it.
But desire kept creeping through me the longer we were together and if he didn’t somehow ease the aching, throbbing—
“Forget it,” I whispered, my eyes burning with tears. “Is that everything? Do you have any requests on what you want me to clean today?”
An unreadable mask slipped back over his face.
Any fleck of connection we’d cultivated in the past month snuffed out.
“Do whatever you want.” He sighed as if he was as exhausted as I was. “Just...stay where I can see you.”
A dagger lanced my chest as he marched toward the window seat. To hide in a book. To pretend I didn’t exist, all while somehow using my presence to ease some of his pain.
I trembled.
If I let him shut down, everything would be ruined.
If I stood any chance of making him accept me, I had to push, to fight, to prove that I wasn’t like them. That he could trust me. Like me...
Running after him, I—
“Oh, and another thing.” He spun around, his face black with anger. “Was it you who, ooof—”
I collided with him as violently as he’d slammed into me.
My face smashed into his chest, my speed tripping him up.
We both cried out as he fell backward, tumbling over the back of the couch and landing on the soft cushions below.
I landed on top of him.
His arm shot out on instinct, caging me, keeping me from rolling off. My palms ended up planted on his chest again, feeling the wild hammer of his heart.
Heat.
Everywhere.
His body burned under my hands like lightning. His coat sleeves draped down his forearms as he locked me on top of him, the silver cuffs on his wrists glinting in the sunlight.
“Sorry,” I whispered, breathless and terribly afraid of being accused of planning this. “I didn’t mean...” I pressed my lips together, refusing to say anything else.
He stared at me. Really stared. His dark eyes weren’t arctic anymore—his pupils blown wide and hungry, something raw and unguarded swimming in the bottom of his soul. Without a word, his arm slid tighter around my waist, pulling me flush against him as if he’d forgotten himself.
For a heartbeat, I saw nothing else, felt nothing else.
Just him.
Just his body beneath mine, his palm splayed over my lower back, his breath skimming my lips. Sparks danced in every place we touched, a static charge building stronger and stronger, until one wrong move could set us alight.
His gaze dipped to my mouth, his fingers flexed against my spine, and I completely forgot how to breathe.
He shivered as if my proximity unravelled him, but then, with a guttural groan, he shoved off the couch, taking me with him. He supported me until I stood on two feet, then shoved me away. The loss of contact made my skin burn with snow after burning with his unnatural fire.
Breathing hard, he clenched his fists by his sides. “Stop playing whatever games you’re playing.”
“I’m not—”
“I’ll pay you in blood but not in that.”
How did he break my heart by offering to pay me with the very thing trapping him here, yet constantly denied himself any form of companionship?
It only made me more determined.
More sure that I was doing the right thing trying to be his friend.
“Lucien, I—”
“Don’t.”
“But—”
“Was it you who hurt Whisper?” He cut me off deliberately. “Did you use the knife I gave you to harm the only thing I care about?”
Every piece of me smarted as if he’d slapped me.
This was going from spectacularly bad to horrifically horrible.
I didn’t want to name Laura because I couldn’t be responsible if he killed her. But if I said it was me...
“Did you hurt him to hurt me?” he breathed, pain aching behind his fury.
Whisper came to my side, headbutting my hand until I stroked him without thinking, the solid bulk of him pressing hot against my thigh.
I still couldn’t reply.
I stared at death and went absolutely speechless.
Lucien glowered at his panther.
Silence echoed between us as he studied the way Whisper purred—almost obnoxiously loud as if defending me. I opened my mouth to speak—to try to deflect blame from Laura and save myself, but Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
“Forget it.” His tone turned heavy and tired. “It wasn’t you.”
I stiffened. “Are you...will you make whoever did it pay?”
His hand fell and his head tipped up, his gaze locking wearily on mine.
He studied me long enough to make me lightheaded, before he finally sighed. “I told Whisper he has to fight his own battles. He can deal with whoever hurt him.” Turning in a whirl of black, he prowled toward his bedroom. “I’ve changed my mind. Leave me alone.”
Every part of me ached as Lucien vanished into his quarters and slammed the door with a resounding bang.
I sagged against the purring panther. “Well...” I forced a smile. “That went well.”
Whisper huffed as if I was the most ridiculous woman in the world.
He had a point.