CHAPTER TWENTY
When I opened my eyes, Lucien’s arms were wrapped around my waist tightly.
The study was warm, alight with soft orange glow from the fireplace.
He stared down at me, dark eyes searching mine.
I swallowed down the disoriented feeling that always muddled my mind when he transported us before giving him a short, brisk nod and stepping out of his arms.
He watched me a moment longer before crossing the room to stand by the hearth.
“You knew. You knew your grandmother had something to do with this.” He snapped, voice seething with anger.
“I didn’t know anything!” I retorted, my own voice rising. “I still don’t. I saw her in a vision placing the curse, but I know she had a good reason. So yes, I found her book, and yes, she was involved. But I didn’t curse you. ”
He scoffed and looked away, jaw flexing. “So you lied.”
“You’re one to talk!” I stepped closer, trembling. “You didn’t tell me you got your memories back.”
He turned back, anger flashing. “Because I haven’t. Not all of them. I don’t know where my body is, Mia. I don’t remember being cursed. All I have are fragments. Faces. Feelings. And Serena… she’s in them. Smiling. Always smiling.”
My breath caught. “But you remember your life before.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think that was worth telling me?”
“What was I supposed to say?” he shot back. “That I remembered the woman who cursed me? That I remember how horrible she was?”
“You made love to her, Lucien and then refused to marry her,” I retorted, feeling tears prick the back of my eyes.
“No I didn’t,” Lucien said firmly, his jaw clenching so tight that I thought his teeth would shatter. “She lied. I never touched her. I never even kissed her. Our marriage was arranged by our parents. I never felt anything for her. She was… obsessive and cruel.”
Silence stretched between us, taut and shaking.
My voice dropped to a whisper. “What about me, Lucien? Seducing me so that I would break your curse? Did last night mean nothing to you? Was any of it real?”
His expression faltered, cracked, and something raw bled through. Only for a moment though before he recovered.
He stepped back, putting more space between us. “You need to leave.”
“No.”
“You need to leave this castle, Mia.” His voice cracked. “I no longer trust you to help me.”
“No, I’m so close to finding your body—”
“It doesn’t matter!” he roared, and the flames in the hearth flared. “It’s over. It’s too late!”
“No,” I whispered firmly. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
In two strides, he closed the distance between us, his grip clutching my upper arm, not hurting, but enough to shake me lightly.
“Nothing? He snapped, his jaw clenching, dark eyes filled with what should be rage, but it was something else—pain perhaps, sadness, regret—as he hesitated.
I stared up at him, my eyes widening as I gave him another short nod. He let out a long silent breath.
“How about the truth? I used you. I knew exactly who I was and what I’d done to deserve being cursed. I knew exactly who you were. I wanted to make you suffer in this castle. I wanted to hurt you like your grandmother hurt me.”
Tears formed in my eyes despite knowing it wasn’t true. The words still hurt. Lucien’s hand moved from my arm, inching closer to wipe the tears away, that pained look in his eyes. But, I wretched my arm free and took a step back before he could.
“You’re lying,” I choked out on a sob.
“Am I?” Was all he said back, his tone suddenly cold, hard.
“Yes, you care about me. You’ve saved me, come for me when I needed you.” I said, my voice wavering with uncertainty now, but I held my ground.
He was silent for a long moment, then he shrugged, his expression unreadable now as if he’d slipped a mask over his features.
“You mistake my kindness.” He leaned in closer to my ear then.
“I think the heartbreak you will feel for the rest of your life is a greater torture than death could ever bring.”
I stared at him, my heart breaking, my soul screaming. It wasn’t true… it wasn’t true, I kept reminding myself. I wanted to reach for him, bury myself in his arms until he admitted that it was all a lie.
But he was already fading.