Lucien's thoughts
I've been waiting for this moment, knowing it was coming. It always has been. The pulse. The crack in time that echoes through the marrow of my bones, through the space between seconds. She has always been there, just out of sight, just beyond reach. But never fully seen. I never saw her face, only the echo of her presence, the broken threads of the future that revolved around her.
I never wanted to understand why, but now I do. I see her now, between them, her small form tucked between Ashar and Riven. I've watched her before. Not in this form. Not like this. But it's her. I knew it from the second I laid eyes on her at the auction, from the second she stood there, trapped, her collar a heavy chain that didn't belong on her. Her aura, that hum, that unbearable pulse, it was her.
The girl I had always seen. The girl who shattered everything she touched. The one who would change everything. She's more than just here. She's the answer. The fracture. I don't sleep. I never have. Not since the dreams started, since the pulse began to reverberate in me. I stay awake. I listen to the world around me, to the pieces of the universe shifting, breaking, stretching toward her.
The others sleep soundly around her, Ashar's even breaths, Riven's steady warmth, Kaine's sharp exhale from time to time. They are at peace. But I can't be. I never am. Not anymore. Because I know what this pulse is. I know what it means. It is the beginning. The storm, the rising tension before the chaos that follows. This moment, this fragile peace, will end soon. And when it does, we will be at the center of it.
Her. It will always be about her. Lucien's gaze stayed fixed on Mae, her delicate form nestled between Ashar and Riven. There was something celestial about her, even when she slept. A softness that didn't belong in this world. But the pulse was unmistakable now. He had felt it for days, but tonight it was more present than ever. The walls of the broken atrium seemed to hum, as if they too could sense it, could feel the change in the air. The pulse, the hum, he knew it too well. It was not just the wind, not just the familiar ebb and flow of their fractured universe. This was different. This was the force she carried with her.
They're coming. Lucien's eyes shifted to the other Fallen. Kaine was sprawled out, his arms crossed, every muscle taut even in sleep. Riven was more relaxed, but his energy was still coiled, the faint crackling of his plasma wings just beneath the surface. Ashar's breathing was deeper, slower, but Lucien knew better than to trust it. The man, if he could even be called that, was always aware, always calculating.
And then there was Mae, the center of it all. The one who would either pull them all apart or put them back together.
But the question gnawed at him: Why her? She was the fracture, the break in the universe's order. She was the walking chaos, the herald of whatever was to come. And still, still, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was his, in some twisted, unreachable way. Not in the way Ashar claimed her, not in the way Riven watched her, but still, there was something there. Something he couldn't dismiss, no matter how much he wanted to.
I have always been the observer. The watcher, the manipulator, the one who keeps his distance. But she is different. I've never seen anything like her. I've never wanted anything like I want her. Not since, since when? I cannot recall the last time something so, impossible made its way into my thoughts and rooted itself there.
I should not feel this. I should not want this. She is tangled between them, Ashar, Riven, they're hers. They claim her, bind her with invisible chains I cannot break. She is theirs to choose. Always. And yet, the pulse. The pulse calls to me. Not just the force that vibrates through the walls of this broken world, not just the pull of her presence that twists space itself, but something deeper, something darker, something that connects us. Her and me. I feel it. The touch of her essence against my skin, even when she's not near. A dark current that runs between us.
I don't know what it is. I should not want to. It is not her body I crave. No, I know better than that. It is her mind. Her soul. I want to own it. I want to possess every piece of her. The way she thinks, the way she feels, the way she shatters reality when she loses control. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? To take it all. To bend her to my will.
But I won't. No. Not because I am weak. Not because I fear the consequences. But because she is above us all. Above me. She is the Fracture. She is chaos, untamed, unknowable. She doesn't belong to anyone. Not to Ashar, not to Riven, not to me.
I can feel it, the weight of it, pressing against me. The desire to claim her is a fire I can never extinguish. But I know my place. I know what I am. I am the Lord of Chains. The master of manipulation, of mental warfare, of control. I wield fear like others wield weapons. I own minds, break them, twist them until they are nothing more than pliable clay. I have done it before. But her, she is different.
She is the one thing I cannot-will not control. And it infuriates me. It terrifies me. I should not feel this way. I should not want her to choose me. I should step back, allow Ashar and Riven-to have her. They are hers. And yet, here I sit. Watching. Waiting.
Her scent lingers in the air, her presence filling the room even when she is asleep. She is a beacon, a pull I cannot resist, and I cannot, will not, deny that I want her in ways I cannot even comprehend. She could break me. And still, I wait. I wait for her to choose. I won't push her. Not like this. Not while she is tangled between them. Not while she is still uncertain. But the ache, it grows. It gnaws at me.
Lucien's gloved hands flexed at his sides, the sharp tips of his fingers itching beneath the fabric. He stood, silent and unmoving, his gaze fixed on Mae's slumbering form. She was so close. Her breaths shallow, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep, yet there was a quiet energy around her that never dulled. A tension in the air that hummed with the weight of what she was, and what she could be. A noise broke through the silence. A harsh scraping sound from outside the room. Lucien's sharp gaze flicked toward the door. The pulse, the hum, shifted.
Something was coming.