Lucien's POV
The moonlight filtered through the high arched windows of his bed chambers, cool silver brushing the warm amber glow of the fireplace. His shirt lay open, discarded carelessly across a velvet armchair. He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed, as the silence echoed like a second heartbeat.
His jaw clenched.
He could still smell Seraphina on the training grounds. The violet sparks in her eyes. The raw energy in her blood. The way she didn't even realize how much she stirred inside him.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
He didn't look up. "Enter."
The door creaked open, and the scent hit him first—jasmine and wine.
Not her.
Still, he didn't speak.
"Lucien," the voice was silky, low—Calista, the daughter of one of the high lords. Dressed in something sheer, something intentional.
He finally raised his eyes. She stood boldly, her silhouette backlit by the hearth. "I couldn't sleep," she said, stepping closer. "And I thought… perhaps neither could you."
He said nothing. His silence didn't stop her.
"I saw you watching her," Calista whispered. "The girl with the sparks. You never looked at anyone like that before." She let her robe slide halfway off her shoulder. "But she's still figuring herself out. Still untamed."
She reached him, placed a hand on his chest. His skin tensed.
"You need a woman who already knows what to do with power. With you."
He caught her wrist.
"I don't need anything from you," Lucien said quietly, but his voice carried steel. "Not tonight. Not ever."
Her eyes flickered. "You're really choosing her over me?"
He stood, towering, his voice now low and cold. "I already chose. The moment I saw her."
For a heartbeat, her expression cracked—something between hurt and fury—before she stepped back, tugging her robe tighter around her.
"You'll regret it," she hissed, and the door shut behind her seconds later.
Lucien stood alone again, the silence heavier now. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to the window, the moonlight bathing his bare skin.
He could've had Calista.
But his soul, his blood, everything in him burned for one girl alone.
And until she came to him by choice, he would wait.
Even if it killed him.
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