Chapter 16 #2
Lucien pulled against the chains, feeling the iron bite into his flesh. The manacles held firm, the locks secure. He could feel the familiar resistance, the weight of metal designed to restrain something far stronger than a man.
“They hold,” he said.
Max nodded, but he did not move toward the door. He stood there, watching Lucien with an expression that seemed almost … sorrowful … before checking over the locks one last time.
“Max.” Lucien’s voice was rough. “There is something I need to say to you. Something I should have said long ago.”
The other man tilted his head, waiting.
“You have been my friend for as long as I can remember.” The words came slowly, dredged up from somewhere deep within his chest. “When I was a boy, alone in this great empty house with only my mother and the servants for company, you were my only friend. We learned to fish. To track deer through the forest.” He paused, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.
“I was so lonely. So desperately lonely. But you were always there.”
Max’s face was unreadable in the flickering lantern light.
“I remember the night I first understood what the curse would truly cost me,” Lucien continued.
“I had no one to explain to me what would happen when the moon rose full. I was terrified. Furious. I wanted to flee Blackfen and never return, as though I could somehow outrun the beast that lived in my own blood.”
He drew a shaky breath.
“You found me in the stables, saddling a horse in the dead of night. You did not try to stop me. You simply sat down on a hay bale and waited until I was ready to talk.”
“I remember,” Max said softly. “Ye were so angry. So lost.”
“I told you that I envied you.” Lucien’s voice grew thick.
“Do you remember? I said I would give anything to be like you, free to walk through the village without hiding what I am. Free to court a woman without fearing what I might become beneath the full moon. Free to live an ordinary life, unburdened by secrets and silver chains.”
Max was silent for a long moment.
“You told me that every man carries a burden of some kind. That some burdens are visible and others hidden, but none of us walks through life unbowed.” Lucien swallowed hard.
“Those words kept me sane, Max. When the despair grew too heavy to bear, I thought of what you said and found the strength to endure one more night. One more moon. One more transformation.”
“Ye needed to hear it.” Max’s voice cracked. “Ye deserved to live.”
“When the curse came upon me, you did not abandon me.” Lucien pressed on, needing to say the words while he still could.
“You helped me prepare this cellar, forge these chains. You have spent four years of your life managing my affliction, keeping my secret, protecting the people of Blackfen from the monster I become.” His voice cracked.
“I do not know how to thank you for that. I do not know if there are words sufficient to express what your friendship has meant to me.”
“Lucien—”
“No, let me finish.” He drew a shaky breath.
“You are the only true friend I have ever possessed. Save for Ephraim, you are the only person outside my family who knows what I am. Whatever happens tonight … whatever happens in the days to come … I need you to know that. I need you to know how much you have meant to me.”
Max stood frozen for a long moment. Then, slowly, he crossed to where Lucien sat chained upon the floor and lowered himself to his knees. Without a word, he pulled Lucien into an embrace, his arms strong and steady around Lucien’s shoulders.
“Ye fool,” Max murmured against his hair. “Ye have always been more than a duty to me. Ye have been the brother I never had.”
Lucien held on, his arms wrapped around Max’s solid frame, holding on a fraction longer than he should.
Tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to spill over.
He thought of Verity, waiting for him somewhere in the darkness.
He thought of his mother, of the village, of everyone who depended on him.
Whatever it took, he would protect them.
Whatever the cost, he would keep them safe.
His stablemaster pulled back, his hands gripping Lucien’s shoulders. His eyes were bright with unshed tears, his face etched with grief.
“Whatever happens,” Max said roughly, “know that I am proud of the man ye have become. Yer father would be proud too.”
Lucien nodded, not trusting his voice. Max rose to his feet, brushing off his knees, and turned toward the stairs.
“I will return at dawn,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion that had passed between them. “Try to rest, if ye can. The quickening will be upon ye soon.”
He had taken three steps toward the door when Lucien spoke.
“Max.”
His friend stopped, his back still turned.
“There is one more thing.”
Slowly, Max turned. And as he did, Lucien rose to his feet.
The chains fell away from his wrists and ankles, clattering to the stone floor with a sound like thunder in the confined space. The manacles lay open, empty, their locks disengaged. Lucien stood before Max, the woolen blanket draped around his shoulders, calm and still.
“I seem to have broken free,” Lucien said quietly. “Would you happen to know how that occurred?”
The color drained from Max’s face. His skin went gray, then white, his eyes widening with something that looked very much like terror. He took a stumbling step backward, his hand reaching for the wall to steady himself.
“Lucien …” His voice emerged as a croak. “I can explain?—”
“Can you?” Lucien’s voice was soft, dangerous.
“Can you explain why the locks that have held me secure for four years suddenly fail to engage? Can you explain why I have been waking in the woods with no memory of how I escaped?” He took a step forward, and Max flinched as though struck.
“Can you explain why an old man lies dead in the village, killed by a wolf, when I was nowhere near him?”
“Ye do not understand?—”
“Then help me understand.” Lucien’s voice cracked like a whip. “Help me understand how my oldest friend, the man I trusted with my life, has been setting me loose to kill.”
But Max did not answer. Instead, he turned and fled, scrambling up the stone steps with Lucien close behind.