Elian was standing by the side of Lucien's washroom, hands shaking as the weight of the blade guiltily weighed on him.
He had picked the blade from one of Lucien's drawers in a fit of heartbreak and rage.
He felt discarded.
He could swear that Lucien did not love Rowena, so why was he going ahead with that sham of an engagement? Why was he throwing away what they'd found?
He knew he was being irrational, but he could not pretend anymore; he wanted Lucien for himself. No matter how shameful it was to admit, that was what he wanted.
However, he understood that Lucien would never look at him like he wanted Lucien to look at him, so he had no other choice than to do as his mother had asked.
He was going to kill Lucien, right there, right then. And nothing was going to change his mind.
After all, he was avenging his father... and himself.
