The choker glinted against Lucien’s pale skin, snug around his throat as if daring any alpha to tear it off.
It made him look sinful, every detail of his beauty sharpened.
The dark band drew the eye to the soft hollow of his collarbone, to the red curve of his lips, and the slow movent of his fingers tracing the small star charm.
It was an invitation in the shape of jewelry, an unspoken challenge that dripped with seduction.
His athyst eyes turned toward the Twinster, glimring with mischief as he tilted his head.
"Do you guys get hard seeing in this?" he asked with a lazy grin.
The apple slipped from Adrian’s hand, hitting the floor as he drowned in the oga’s allure.
Silas, on the other hand, stepped closer, his fingers brushing the star charm at Lucien’s throat before murmuring, "Indeed, we could fuck you right now, but you need rest. At least, that’s what Edmund said."
Lucien frowned. "You guys are boring."
Adrian snapped back from his daze, forcing a laugh.
"Not everyone moves with their dick, Lucien. So of us can actually hold it together around your slutty allure."
"Is that a challenge?" the oga drawled, narrowing his eyes. "If I spread my legs on the table, I bet you’d crumble first."
Silas smiled faintly and set a hand on his shoulder. "We would. But relationships are built on knowing each other. So maybe, let’s start with a conversation?"
Adrian added with a shrug, "Also, you fainted in the bath. The doctor said your body’s overworked."
"Adrian!" Silas hissed, rubbing his temple before guiding Lucien gently back to his chair.
The oga looked offended, crossing his arms. "Why the hell did Edmund bring a doctor here over a little accident?"
"Does he think I’m so fragile flower that wilts the mont the weather changes?"
The coffee suddenly tasted bitter, the fruit bland on his tongue. Silas sighed and shot Adrian a glare that clearly said, :I told you not to tell him!’
"Why do you hate Edmund so much?"
Adrian began, but Silas covered his mouth mid-sentence, shutting it before saying too much.
"Never mind. Let’s talk about sothing else, since we apparently have all the ti in the world."
Lucien groaned. "Small talk is worse than silence. But... doesn’t Edmund usually drag you everywhere with him? I thought he was paranoid."
"Paranoid is a strong word," Silas replied smoothly. "He just trusts us more than most."
"Yeah," Adrian said proudly, puffing his chest. "We’re like his elite army. You should feel honored we’re protecting you."
Lucien’s hand flashed—quick, sharp—and he snatched the last grape from Adrian’s grasp. The alpha gasped in mock betrayal.
The oga turned to the maids. "Bring more grapes. And figs. And while you’re at it, wine, cheese, and prosciutto."
The maids bowed and hurried away.
Adrian shook his head, grinning. "Wine in the morning? No wonder Edmund sent a doctor."
"Shut up. You wanted a conversation, didn’t you?" Lucien leaned forward, eyes glittering.
"Then tell the story behind you three. Because it feels like your bond with him runs much deeper than mine ever will."
"Oh my, are you jealous, Lucien?"
Now it was Silas’s turn to tease him, a fact that instantly soured the oga’s mood. Lucien rolled his eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
"Why would I be? Not everything revolves around love or hate, right?"
Adrian’s smile grew wider, his eyes flicking to Silas in a silent exchange that Lucien couldn’t quite decode.
The longer he looked at them, the more unsettling it beca, they moved like mirrors of each other, a twisted pair sharing one mind.
"Just say that we’re loyal," Silas began, his tone smooth.
"We do what he says, efficiently, perfectly, without expecting anything in return."
Adrian picked up the thread seamlessly. "We’d never betray him. We only want one thing and he gives it, because he owes us."
Lucien stilled. His fingers tapped against the table. Owes them? That word didn’t fit Edmund at all.
The man was untouchable: cold, controlled, a figure carved from iron and restraint.
Lucien had never once seen him lose composure—except when it involved him—not even when Lunox teetered on collapse after his father’s death.
Edmund never asked for help, never relied on anyone based on Obscura intel.
So what could make him owe the Twinster?
Before he could probe further, the maids returned, replacing the empty plates with fresh fruit, cheese, and wine.
Lucien waved them away, dismissing their presence until only the three of them remained on the balcony, the sound of pelicans echoing faintly from the sea below.
"The thing you both want, it’s , isn’t it?" he asked at last, pouring wine into his glass.
"Why?"
The twins exchanged another wordless look, and for a mont, Lucien thought they wouldn’t answer. Then Silas spoke softly.
"Just say... we’re in love with you."
Lucien blinked. Then he laughed, loudly enough that the wine nearly sloshed from his glass.
"Oh, co on. You’re kidding, right? How? Why? This is, what, our third real conversation? Two of which are in this damned manor!"
But they didn’t laugh. Both of them just watched him in silence. Their faces were unreadable, but their eyes held a sincerity that unsettled him.
Silas’s voice lowered. "We’re serious, Lucien. You really don’t rember us?"
Lucien froze. "Rember... you?"
He searched their faces for a clue, but nothing ca. Their features were distinct, striking even, and it was impossible to forget them.
Unless... sothing had made him forget.
"Sorry," he said finally, voice quieter. "I don’t."
Silas smiled faintly, though disappointnt flickered beneath it. "We guessed as much."
Adrian sighed, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. "You’re right, talking is boring. Why don’t we do sothing more fun? Like hunting."
Lucien arched a brow. "Hunting? On this tiny island? What are you planning to hunt, pelicans? Seashells?"
Adrian grinned, sharp and feral. "What if we hunt you instead? Wouldn’t that be fun?"
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