10. Lucian

10

LUCIAN

T here’s a disturbance in the air, a shift in the shadows that feels unnatural, as if something dark and ancient is stirring beneath the surface. I can feel it creeping through the keep, subtle but persistent, like a whisper on the edge of hearing. It’s unsettling, and I know without a doubt that it has something to do with her.

Elara’s power has become a beacon in this realm, a flicker of light in a place that was never meant to know warmth. She’s drawing attention—attention I’d rather avoid. But the Underworld is as ruthless as it is vast, and any display of power is bound to attract predators. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already marked, and it’s only a matter of time before something finds her.

I move through the dim corridors, seeking out Kieran. His presence is often more shadow than substance, but if there’s one who knows the whispers of this realm, it’s him. He’s always had an ear to the ground, gathering secrets like dust in the corners of his mind.

I find him lurking by the edge of the keep, his form flickering in and out like a faint shadow. He looks up as I approach, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, irritating amusement. “Lucian,” he says, his voice low and mocking. “I wondered when you’d come.”

I narrow my eyes, not in the mood for his games. “There’s something stirring,” I say, cutting to the point. “Something dangerous, and it’s drawn to her.”

He chuckles, clearly entertained by my concern. “Ah, yes. The little mortal with a spark of power she barely understands. Quite the beacon, isn’t she?”

“This isn’t a game, Kieran,” I growl, frustration slipping into my tone. “If she draws the wrong kind of attention, it could destabilize the entire realm.”

He shrugs, leaning casually against the stone wall. “And whose fault is that, Lucian? You brought her here, didn’t you? You chose to bind her to yourself, curse or not.”

I grit my teeth, refusing to let him bait me. “Do you know what this power is?” I ask, keeping my voice steady. “Or who it might attract?”

Kieran’s smile fades slightly, his gaze growing thoughtful. “There are forces in the Underworld older than you, Lucian. Older than all of us. And power like hers… it doesn’t just appear. It’s drawn from something primal, something beyond magic.” He pauses, studying me with an unsettling intensity. “Perhaps it’s connected to the Underworld itself, or perhaps it’s something else entirely. Either way, it won’t go unnoticed.”

A chill runs through me, though I keep my expression impassive. “So you’re saying her presence could be a threat to more than just herself.”

Kieran’s smile returns, sharp and knowing. “Precisely. And you, of all people, should be wary of attachment. It clouds judgment, makes one… vulnerable.”

I clench my fists, anger flaring. “I am not attached. She’s a responsibility, nothing more. Her survival matters only because it impacts my realm.”

He chuckles, the sound grating. “Keep telling yourself that, Lucian. But if you truly believe it, why seek me out? Why not let her fend for herself?”

His words hit closer than I’d care to admit. The truth is, I don’t know why I’m here, why I feel this gnawing need to protect her. She’s nothing more than a mortal, a fleeting spark in a world of shadows. And yet… there’s something about her, something that stirs memories I’ve long buried, emotions I thought I’d snuffed out.

“Enough,” I snap, dismissing his words. “If there’s a threat, I need to know what it is. I won’t let this realm fall into chaos because of one foolish mortal.”

Kieran’s gaze sharpens, a hint of something darker flickering in his expression. “Then keep her close, Lucian. Watch her, protect her if you must. But be warned—this path you’re on leads to dangerous places. The Underworld doesn’t tolerate sentiment, and neither should you.”

I glare at him, unwilling to admit the truth in his words. “I don’t need advice on how to rule my own realm, Kieran.”

He shrugs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Suit yourself. But remember, even the greatest flames can be snuffed out by a well-placed shadow.”

With that, he disappears, leaving me alone in the silence. I stand there for a moment, his words echoing in my mind, stirring something that feels dangerously close to doubt. Attachment. The very idea is absurd, and yet… there’s no denying the instinct that’s driven me here, the strange, reluctant pull I feel every time I’m near her.

I curse under my breath, turning back toward the keep. If there’s a threat, then I’ll handle it, as I always do. And if that means keeping her close, then so be it. She doesn’t need to know the dangers she’s attracted—better she remains unaware, unprepared. The last thing I need is for her to start thinking she can handle this world on her own.

As I enter the keep, I find her lingering in one of the corridors, her gaze distant, lost in thought. She doesn’t notice me, her expression softened, almost vulnerable. For a moment, I hesitate, an unfamiliar pang stirring in my chest. She’s nothing like Symara, yet there’s something about her spirit, her defiance, that reminds me of the person I once was.

letting my presence fill the space between us. She glances up, surprise flickering in her eyes, but she quickly masks it with that familiar defiance.

“Don’t wander too far,” I say, my voice cold, authoritative. “There are things in this realm that would relish the chance to tear you apart.”

She smirks, though I see a hint of caution beneath her bravado. “I can take care of myself.”

I scoff, though the hint of a smile tugs at my lips. “We’ll see. But remember, Elara—this realm doesn’t forgive weakness. Stay close, or you may find yourself lost in shadows you can’t escape.”

I'm about to turn away when she steps closer, her scent—a mix of ancient tomes and something uniquely her—filling my senses.

"You know, for someone who claims to want me to stay close, you sure spend a lot of time avoiding me," she says, tilting her head. The motion exposes the curve of her neck, and my mouth goes dry.

"I have duties to attend to." The words come out rougher than intended.

"Really?" She traces a finger along the stone wall, but her eyes never leave mine. "Because it seems like you're just afraid."

Heat flares in my chest. "Afraid? Of what?"

"Of admitting you might actually enjoy my company." She steps closer, and the air between us crackles with tension. "I've seen how you watch me when you think I'm not looking."

My jaw clenches. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Her lips curve into a knowing smile. "Then why are you still here?"

The question catches me off guard. Why am I still here? I could walk away, maintain the distance I've tried so hard to keep. But something about her pulls at me, like gravity itself has shifted.

"This is dangerous ground you're treading," I warn, but my voice lacks its usual edge.

She reaches out, her fingers hovering just above my arm. "Maybe I like dangerous ground."

The touch, when it comes, sends electricity through my skin. Her hand is warm, soft, everything I've tried to forget I wanted. I should push her away, but instead, I find myself leaning into her touch.

"Elara..." Her name comes out as a growl.

"Yes?" She looks up at me through her lashes, and something inside me snaps.

I grab her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to make her gasp. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Who says I can't finish it?" She presses closer, and my body responds traitorously to her proximity.

Elara's eyes widen as I pull her close, my hands gripping her hips tightly. Our lips meet in a frenzied kiss, our tongues dueling as we explore each other's mouths. The heat between us is palpable, and I can feel her heart racing against my chest.

I break the kiss, panting heavily. "Elara..." I growl, my voice low and husky.

She looks up at me, her eyes filled with desire. "Yes?" she whispers, her breath hot against my neck.

Without another word, I pull her closer and begin to undo the buttons on her blouse. She gasps as I reveal her lacy bra, the fabric barely containing her full breasts. My fingers trace the outline of her nipples through the material, sending shivers down her spine.

"Lucian..." she moans softly, arching into my touch.

I can't resist any longer. I lower my head and take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking gently as I run my tongue over the sensitive skin. Elara's hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as she moans loudly.

As I continue to tease and torment her nipples with my mouth and hands, Elara begins to squirm beneath me. Her breathing becomes ragged and uneven as she reaches for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head in a frenzy.

I stand up suddenly, pulling Elara with me until she's standing on her tiptoes to reach me. Our eyes lock as I reach down and unbutton her pants, pushing them down along with her underwear until they pool at her feet. She steps out of them nervously, looking up at me with a mixture of fear and anticipation in her eyes.

Without another word, I drop to my knees in front of Elara and bury my face between her legs. She gasps loudly as my tongue slides between her folds, flicking against her clit with expert precision. Her hands grip the back of my head tightly as she moans softly, arching into my touch with each stroke of my tongue.

I continue to pleasure Elara relentlessly until she's on the brink of orgasm - then I stop suddenly, leaving her panting and desperate for release. "Lucian..." she whimpers plaintively, gripping the back of the couch for support as she tries to steady herself after the sudden halt in pleasure.

I can feel the urgency in Elara’s touch, the raw need that courses through her veins like wildfire. Her breath hitches as I slide my hands down her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the softness of her thighs. It's intoxicating, the way she responds to me—abandoning all inhibition, all pretense of resistance.

"Lucian, please..." she breathes, her voice a tremulous whisper that fans the flames of my own desire.

I smirk against her skin, my lips trailing a path of heat up the inside of her thigh. "Patience, love," I murmur, my voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through her very core.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging with a sweet, desperate urgency. It's a silent plea, one I'm all too eager to answer. I bury my face between her legs once more, my tongue delving into her wetness with a renewed fervor. She tastes like sin and salvation, a heady combination that has me aching for more.

Elara's moans fill the room, echoing off the stone walls as I work her higher and higher. Her body trembles beneath my touch, her legs quivering as she nears the edge. I can feel the moment she breaks, her orgasm crashing over her in waves as she cries out my name.

But I'm not done with her yet.

As she lies there, panting and flushed with the afterglow of release, I withdraw slightly, allowing her a moment to catch her breath. Her eyes flutter open, confusion and curiosity warring in their green depths as she watches me rise to my full height.

"Lucian... what are you?—"

Before she can finish her question, I reach down and release the illusion that has hidden my true form from her. My tail, a sinuous extension of my demonic nature, uncurls from where it has been carefully concealed. It's a part of me that I've kept hidden from her, a symbol of the power I wield—and the pleasure I can provide.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight, a mixture of trepidation and intrigue flickering across her face. "Is that...?"

"Yes," I confirm, my tone husky with anticipation. "And if you trust me, it will bring you pleasure beyond anything you've ever known."

Elara swallows hard, her gaze locked onto my tail as it sways gently before her. "I trust you," she whispers, the words a vow between us.

I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. "Good girl."

With deliberate slowness, I lower my tail, the tip gliding over her sensitive flesh with a featherlight touch. She gasps at the contact, her body arching as if seeking more. I oblige, increasing the pressure, my tail moving with practiced precision as I tease and torment her swollen clit.

"Oh gods!" she cries out, her hands gripping the edge of the bed as her body is wracked with pleasure.

I watch her, a study in rapture, as I bring her to the brink once more. Her eyes are closed, her lips parted in a silent scream as she surrenders herself to the sensation. And when she finally shatters, the sight of her unraveling sends a jolt of pure, unadulterated desire coursing through my veins.

Her body goes limp, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she rides out the aftershocks of her release. I withdraw my tail, the appendage disappearing once more as I carefully conceal it from view.

Elara looks up at me, her eyes hazy with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on her lips. "That was... incredible."

I chuckle, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And this is only the beginning, my dear Elara."

For a moment, we simply lie there, basking in the warmth of each other's company. It's a rare moment of vulnerability for me, one that I find myself surprisingly unwilling to end. But as the euphoria of the moment begins to fade, I can feel the familiar wall of caution rising within me.

I pull away slightly, putting a respectful distance between us. "You should rest," I say, my voice gruffer than intended.

She looks at me, a question in her eyes, but she simply nods, curling up on the bed with a contented sigh. As I watch her drift off to sleep, I can't help but wonder if I've made a terrible mistake. Because despite my better judgment, despite the walls I've built around myself, I can feel the bonds of attachment tightening around my heart.

And in the Underworld, attachment is a luxury no one can afford.