Lucien clicked his tongue and tore his gaze away, picking up speed. The more Edmund saw through him, the more it burned. Being read like an open book felt like standing naked in the cold.
"This has nothing to do with you, and no, it’s not about him."
He sped up again, but Edmund stayed right behind him, closing the distance until he finally managed to catch Lucien’s wrist. Lucien slapped his hand away, fury sparking in his eyes.
"I told you. The five-ter rule."
"Stop being stubborn and just admit you’re heartbroken. Why is it so hard to say it out loud?" Edmund’s grip tightened, almost hauling him closer when Lucien tried to pull back.
"NO, I’m not! You don’t know anything about , and I want to be alone!"
"I can’t leave you alone with thoughts that chew you alive. Not everything in your world has to break. Not your feelings."
Edmund’s voice softened, and sohow that made Lucien even angrier.
"Oh, so you’re a psychology professor now? I can feel whatever I damn want. And I don’t care about Vincent. He can go fuck himself."
"Then tell this, Lucien. In that alley... could you kill him?"
The question hit him like a slap. His hand twitched, trembling for a breath before he caught himself and bit down on his lip.
"So the Twinster ran their mouths about Bianca? Those little snatchers..."
"They had to," Edmund replied. "They dragged you there without my permission."
He leaned in, his breath stirring Lucien’s hair. "You’re my prisoner. Did you forget that?"
Lucien clenched his teeth, then let out a rough laugh. "Funny. Look who’s actually captive in the end. Isn’t that you?"
He slipped free of Edmund’s grip this ti, brushing past his hand with deliberate disrespect.
"We don’t have that kind of relationship, Edmund. You said it yourself. I’m the captive. You’re the captor."
"How hard is it to show your vulnerability even once to ?!" Edmund burst out, then dragged a hand down his face with a groan. "Forget it."
He exhaled hard and pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing the frustration down.
Pushing Lucien now would only make him retreat deeper, like a turtle pulling back into its shell the mont it sensed danger.
He had to be patient. Especially with an oga as hot-headed, as sharp-tongued, and as stubborn as his own.
Lucien knew Edmund was right. And knowing it stung like saltwater on a fresh cut.
"Again," Edmund said, quieter this ti, "this isn’t about us. This is about your ex–right-hand man. If you need anything—anything at all—tell . I’ll ease it."
Lucien took a slow breath.
He wanted to shove him away. He wanted to throw another blade-edged remark just to make Edmund flinch. But the worry on the alpha’s face stopped him.
If he aid cruelty at that expression, it would only ricochet and hit him back twice as hard.
"Nothing," he murmured. "It’ll pass. Feelings always do. You don’t need to worry. People leave. That’s just how my world works."
"I am indeed furious. But I know I’m not pathetic enough to drown in my own feelings especially for soone that stabs in the back." he sighed. "I just want this pain to be over."
Edmund stepped in, gentler now, and caught his hand again.
"I won’t leave you. Not in any circumstances if you allow to."
Lucien let out a short, bitter laugh that scraped his throat raw. "That’s what you said nine years ago. That’s what Vincent said fifteen years ago. Yet look at us now."
"I’m not—"
"Don’t say things you can’t keep," Lucien cut in, voice flat but steady.
His athyst eyes glowed like a silent warning layered over a quiet plea.
"If you do... you’ll lose forever."
But Edmund only smiled and leaned in until their breaths tangled and their shadows fused on the sand.
"I won’t lose you," he whispered. "Not this ti. There’s nothing between us except you."
Lucien almost snapped back with sothing snarky, but bit down on the impulse. He was too tired and emotionally scraped raw from the final severing of whatever he and Vincent once were.
He ca to the beach to breathe, to curse Vincent creatively, and maybe—just maybe—consider dabbling in black magic if the universe allowed a tasteful ’accident.’
But with Edmund here, the ache eased. The sting dulled. Maybe it was also because he let out a prickle of his feelings or maybe his pheromone, that whisky and earl grey scent that made him calm down.
And for a mont, Vincent’s absence didn’t feel like a wound, just... space.
"It’s ti to let go," he said quietly.
The opposite of love wasn’t hate. It was indifference.
If Vincent could walk away from their bond, then Lucien would learn to do the sa. Petty revenge would only bleed him dry. It wasn’t worth it anymore.
"Are you feeling better now?" Edmund asked softly, his voice slipping into Lucien’s thoughts like another wave hitting the shore.
Lucien rolled his eyes. "Ugh. I told you to leave alone. I felt great when you were gone for three days."
Edmund frowned. "Really? You didn’t miss having sex with ?"
He stepped behind Lucien and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into the heat of his chest. Lucien’s skin prickled at the touch, but he didn’t fight.
Edmund took that as victory and rested his jaw against Lucien’s hair, warmth spreading over him like a blanket.
"Nah, the Twinster kept thoroughly satisfied," Lucien said with a smirk, intentionally aiming for Edmund’s nerves.
And it worked—Edmund’s aura rippled—but he kept his voice steady.
"Oh really?" he murmured into Lucien’s ear. "I don’t believe for a second they’re better than ."
His tone dropped, deeper, darker. "Why don’t we show them how we play?"
Lucien shivered. That aura behind him sharpened, predatory and heavy. The Leopard was hunting again.
And Lucien knew—instantly—that he was going to regret poking this particular beast.
Reviews
All reviews (0)