Braelyn's POV
The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Mikhail and Lucien were locked in one of those silent stare-downs that made everyone else shift uncomfortably, as any second one of them might snap.
I kept my face as neutral as I could, but my stomach was twisting. I really didn't want Lucien to get into a psycho mood. It was going to be embarrassing for sure.
I grabbed Lucien's arm. No word was said but he understood. His jaw rolled, and he muttered something under his breath. But he was still clearly angry
"Don't," I whispered. His arm stiffened for a moment in my grasp.
Then Lucien just laughed in a low carefree tone, like he'd flipped a switch. "You guys can't take a joke. I'm not the type to start swinging, not in front of Braelyn anyway. Her eyes don't need that kind of mess."
The way he said it casually with a possessive hint, made something flicker in me even though I wanted to roll my eyes because he was making this about me again
