CHAPTER 10
Lucien
She tried to leave tonight. Not the estate, just me. Avoidance is a quieter form of rebellion.
She skipped dinner. Sent word she had a headache. Stayed in her room with the lights off. I let it happen for three hours.
Then I knocked.
She didn’t answer.
So I entered.
Her room smelled faintly of rain and old books. Curtains open. Moonlight spilling across the floorboards. She was sitting on the window ledge, knees drawn slightly up, staring at the city beyond the estate gates.
“I needed space,” she said before I spoke.
“From me?”
“Yes.”
The honesty was… unexpected. I stepped inside fully, closing the door.
“You think distance will fix whatever this is?”
“I don’t know what this is,” she whispered.
Neither do I but I stepped closer anyway. The moonlight caught the side of her face. Softened her edges. Made her look younger than she should in a place like this.
“You feel it,” I said.
She didn’t deny it.
Her pulse was visible again at her throat.
“I shouldn’t,” she breathed.
“No.”
I stopped inches away, close enough to feel warmth, close enough to change everything.
But I didn’t touch her.
Restraint is more powerful than possession.
“For now,” I said quietly, “we keep this controlled.”
Her eyes dropped briefly to my mouth and in that moment, even she understood, control was already slipping.