Lucien's control was fraying.

He watched Elian's shoulders shake, watched fat tears roll down those flushed cheeks as the younger man tried—and failed—to hold back broken sobs. The sight should have disgusted him. Instead, it ignited something feral in his chest.

"Be quiet, Elian," Lucien warned, voice low and strained.

Elian's head snapped up, eyes blazing through the tears. "No! I will not be quiet!" His voice cracked, raw and defiant. "I demand you let me go. Set me—ah!"

Lucien moved before he could think.

In one brutal motion, he slammed Elian against the nearest wall, the impact knocking the breath from both of them. Elian's back hit stone with a dull thud, his wrists pinned above his head by one of Lucien's large hands.

"Be quiet," Lucien hissed again, forehead pressed against Elian's, their breaths mingling hot and desperate.

Elian whimpered, twisting uselessly in his grip. "You monster… you—"

Lucien's mouth crashed down on his.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't a kiss—it was a claim. Hard, punishing, devouring. Elian gasped into it, the sound swallowed instantly as Lucien pressed closer, body caging him completely against the cold wall. The taste of salt from Elian's tears mixed with something sweeter, something that made Lucien's blood roar.

Elian struggled for half a second… then his lips parted on a broken moan.

Lucien pulled back just enough to growl against his mouth, "I said be quiet."

But Elian—trembling, furious, aching—only whispered back, voice wrecked:

"Make me."

****
Some truths are worth killing for.

​Son of a traitor, Elian Morel was meant to burn in the Duke's dungeon.  

Instead, the ruthless Duke Lucien pulls him from the darkness and keeps him locked in his private wing—close enough to watch, to touch, to break.  

Elian hides a dangerous gift: with one touch, he can drag out the truth behind any lie.  

Lucien is cold precision and merciless control, a man bound by a royal betrothal and secrets of his own. But the more he tries to possess Elian, the more his iron restraint begins to crack.  

In a world of court intrigue and deadly politics, their charged proximity turns into something darker—something hungry. Every defiance, every forced confession, every lingering gaze pushes them closer to the edge.  

Between captor and captive, hatred and desire, a forbidden bond begins to form.  

One that could destroy them both.  

Power, obsession, and a love that defies the throne.

Lucien sat in the dining hall, staring at Rowena and Lysandra sitting at opposite sides of the table.


​Lysandra hadn't said anything since morning, and the afternoon was coming to an end. Lucien needed to know why she was there; was it to warn him about something, or was she simply visiting as she said?


​He was getting into something he could not control. Before he went to Elian's room, he was with Rowena in his study, and when she tried to make conversation about their impending union, he suddenly needed an escape... his escape... Elian.


​He didn't mean to leave his fiancée behind and go to a man. He didn't mean to leave Elian so suddenly that he felt like he was going crazy. He didn't mean to let his body be consoled only by Elian's touch. But he did all those things anyway.


Chapter 80 - 80 Haunting