Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Lucifer
The wedding was finally over.
In chaos.
Liam was still crying when the guards carried him away, shouting something about "bad woman" and even "I'll kill you"—who the hell taught him that?
Guests whispered to each other. Liam disappeared around the corner, yelled "Mommy Lina," and then Lina's voice came, low and gentle, finally soothing him.
I stood there, rubbing my temples. A spot of mud Liam threw still clung to my black suit sleeve—his aim was off.
Most of it hit the bride, just a little splashed on me.
The bride. The Gray family's second daughter.
Liam's tantrum shifted everyone's attention from "His Majesty's wedding" to "bastard crashes ceremony.
" When he cried on the platform, I bent down to grab him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bride standing there, her chest soaked, white dress covered in mud and scratches.
She didn't cry. Didn't speak. Just stood there like a silent cow.
I didn't laugh, but apparently, some kid in the audience made the connection—he laughed and said "cow" before his parents covered his mouth.
My temples pulsed. I grabbed the bride's hand and motioned for the ceremony to continue.
Nobody was watching anymore. The rest rushed by.
The bride was led to the bridal chamber to await my favor.
I glanced at the mud on my sleeve, pinched the bridge of my nose, then turned toward the study.
The corridor stretched long, wall lamps dragging shadows behind me.
I walked fast, leaving the whispers in my wake.
I heard people saying "bastard," "farce," "that Gray girl sure got unlucky. " Not loud, but I heard them.
Unlucky. I was pretty unlucky too. This marriage was a joke. Guests came for the spectacle, but I already knew what the Elder Council would say. My wolf was restless too. She has no scent, it howled. She's not our mate!
I pushed open the study door and exhaled heavily. Absolute disaster.
And Mrs. Gray didn't seem to care what humiliation her daughter suffered—she'd already left when Liam threw the mud.
After all, our trade would increase after the alliance.
I sneered. Classic Gray. Only cared about appearances and profit.
Then I thought of the bride's face—what was her name again?
Oh, Elena—numb, lips trembling slightly.
She was pretty pathetic too.
The thought flickered past.
The study lights were off. I didn't bother with the switch.
Just walked in and sank into the chair, leaning back and closing my eyes.
Moonlight leaked through the blinds, cutting gray-white shadows across the floor.
The room was so quiet all I could hear was my own breathing.
The tie choked me. I loosened it, tossed it on the desk, and leaned back.
Knock knock.
Two soft raps.
"Come in."
The door cracked open. Light from the corridor spilled in, outlining a figure—Lina. She stood in the doorway, not entering, clutching a handkerchief, tear tracks still on her face.
"Lucifer." Her voice was hoarse. "Can I come in?"
I didn't move. "Come in."
She entered and gently closed the door. Without turning on the light, she walked over and sat in the chair across from the desk.
Moonlight hit her profile. Her eyes were still red.
"I came to apologize," she said. "Liam...
I didn't watch him closely enough. He was painting in the garden today.
I don't know how he got out... By the time I noticed, he'd already charged into the chapel. I'm sorry."
I looked at her face. She was crying, tears soaking a small dark patch on the handkerchief, but she wasn't sobbing or wailing—just quietly, properly shedding tears in that way well-bred she-wolves did.
I knew how hard she'd worked to calm Liam in the corridor, knew she'd waited until he was asleep to come here, knew her apology was sincere.
But I was still irritated.
At everything that happened today. At this marriage. At the Elder Council for forcing this. At standing on that platform saying "I do" while thinking not of the Gray family's second daughter but of lily and bay leaf, and that damned mud.
"Not your fault," I said. "When that kid wants to run, nobody can stop him."
Lina looked up at me, more tears welling. "But... but today was your wedding day. I should've watched him. I shouldn't have let him—" She shifted. "Lucifer, I'm so scared. Now that you have a wife, I'm afraid she'll make me leave—"
"Lina."
She stopped.
"I've already decided." My voice leveled, pace measured. "This alliance is to shut up the Elder Council. Nothing else. You'll continue taking care of Liam. You don't need to be afraid of anything."
She looked at me for a long time. In the moonlight, her eyes glistened.
Her lips moved like she wanted to say something, then swallowed it.
Then she stood, walked around the desk, knelt in front of me, and rested her face near my knee, voice soft.
"Lucifer... I really want this family. Liam, you, and... "
Her palm landed on my knee.
I looked down at her. Her fingers tightened gently, like searching for a place to land. She lifted her head. The remaining tears made her face look especially tender in the darkness. "Tonight... could it be me?"
She spoke softly, but the meaning was clear. Her hand slid up from my knee. Her scent tonight seemed especially strong, something like laurel spreading around us. But my wolf roared when it caught the smell.
Fake! It snarled.
I reached out, gripped her wrist, and removed her hand from my knee. The movement wasn't rough, but it left no room for negotiation.
"Lina."
She froze.
"I've been very clear with you. You're my family." I released her hand. "Go rest," I said. "Liam needs you."
She stared at me for several seconds. Then she slowly stood and stepped back, the tear tracks on her face now dry, replaced by a kind of covered, restrained calm.
"Okay," she said. Her voice was even lighter than before, like a cloud falling to earth and blown away by the wind. "Then get some rest."
She turned and left, closing the door. The study went dark again, only moonlight remaining.
I sat in the chair, hand on the armrest. Just now, when her hand touched my knee, my body had no reaction—no racing heart, no heated glands, no sensation of something gripping my spine and dragging me deeper.
My wolf only recognized one scent. Only lily and bay leaf. Only the girl pulled to me by the bond that night.
I sat in the darkness, lower back against the chair, breathing gradually deepening.
Thinking of her, my body responded—heat spreading, blood surging from my heart downward like a tide, needing no external stimulus.
My hand dropped from the armrest to my knee, fingertips clenching and releasing, then clenching again.
Heat pooled in my most sensitive place.
I closed my eyes. Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale again. Images flooded my mind unbidden, senses stirred by memory. Her soft body, long hair brushing my face, tickling, accompanied by laurel and incense—
I gasped, palm pressing there as I inhaled deeply again, tilting my head back, skull against the chair, Adam's apple bobbing. Moonlight pooled on the floor, stretching my shadow into a vague line. Eyes closed, I began working myself.
I called for her in my mind. I shouted "where the fuck are you," but she didn't answer.
Only my own increasingly heavy breathing filled the study.
I undid my pants, and when my fingers closed, I bit my lower lip, forcing the groan down my throat.
My wolf thrashed inside like a caged beast locked up too long.
I wanted her. From that night five years ago, only her.
I'd searched for five years, three months, every street, every bar, but all I could do was here in my study, in the darkness, in nights nobody knew about, surviving on memories of her scent and the slightly trembling breath when she bit my ear.
Head tilted back, lips parted, when the final moment came, my entire back went rigid.
Several seconds passed before I slowly relaxed, breathing long and slow, like surfacing after being submerged too long.
Moonlight still lit the floor. The study air now carried a faint, damp smell.
I glanced at my hand, grabbed tissues from the desk, and wiped, then stood, loosened my collar, and walked into the study bathroom.
When hot water poured down, I stood in the stream with closed eyes, palm pressed against the cool tile wall, thoughts gradually returning. Elena had no scent.
I lifted my hand, washing water off my face.
A wolf with no scent. That wasn't right.
Wolves had pheromones from birth. Scent was part of identity, part of bloodline, the foundation of bonds.
What did a scentless wolf mean? It meant her bloodline was questionable, her origins wouldn't hold up to scrutiny, that this daughter the Gray family sent had problems.
The Gray family. A bunch of merchants who'd do anything for profit. Sending a scentless wolf to my side—why?
I laughed coldly, shut off the water, grabbed a towel and dried off, pulled on a robe, and walked out, hair still dripping. I went to the desk, picked up the internal phone, and dialed.
"Marcus."
He answered almost immediately. "Your Majesty."
"Investigate," I said. "The Gray family's second daughter. The one found five years ago. Find out where she was before, who she was with, what she did, and why she suddenly appeared. As detailed as possible."
"Understood."
"Also—" I paused. "Something's wrong with her scent. A wolf can't be completely without pheromones, even a half-blood. Find out what she really is."
"Yes."
I hung up and stood at the desk for a while.
Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on the open desk, the pen holder, the stationery, and a small rock Liam left last time he played here.
I picked up the rock, turned it over, and held it in my palm.
The stone was cold. I played with it quietly.
Elena. She kept her composure, losing face in front of guests without reacting.
But that look in her eyes—
I stared out the window. Streetlights glowed in the distance. Reserpine's night was quiet. That look reminded me of something, but I couldn't place it, like a melody circling in my head that I couldn't catch.
But I'd find out.