19. Lucien

Chapter 19

Lucien

L una sleeps peacefully beside me, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. I watch her, unable to look away, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

I replay the events of the night in my head. The way she arched beneath me, her soft gasps of pleasure, the feel of her skin against mine. And then, that moment — her climax building, her body tensing, and suddenly the shadows in the room coming alive. They danced and swirled, responding to her in a way I've only read about in ancient texts.

She is powerful. More powerful than I initially believed. And I've just fed her my blood.

Stupid. Reckless. Dangerous.

I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. What was I thinking? I don't fully understand what she is, what latent abilities might be inside her. And now I've introduced vampire blood to the equation. The potential consequences are unpredictable at best, catastrophic at worst.

My gaze falls on her sleeping form again. She looks so peaceful now, free from the pain that had been etched into her features earlier. Part of me wants to believe that's why I did it — to ease her suffering, to give her a reprieve from the constant agony.

But I can't lie to myself. Not completely. The desire I felt for her was overwhelming, all-consuming. I wanted her so badly, wanted to lose myself in her without worrying about causing her more pain. Was that the real reason? Did I prioritize my own selfish desires over her safety?

I clench my fist, anger at myself rising. I'm supposed to be protecting her, not potentially putting her in more danger. What if my blood awakens something in her that she's not ready to control? What if it draws even more attention from those who might wish to exploit her power?

And yet... I can't bring myself to regret it entirely. The connection I felt with her, the way she responded to me — it was unlike anything I've experienced in my long existence.

I gently brush a strand of hair from her face, marveling at how young and vulnerable she looks in sleep. The urge to protect her, to keep her safe from all harm, wells up inside me with surprising intensity.

But what if I am the one Luna needs protection from?

I rise from the bed, careful not to disturb her, and begin pacing the room. My feelings for her are far more complex than I ever anticipated. What started as an obsession, a need to protect and possess, has evolved into something more. Something I can barely comprehend let alone name.

And instead of dealing with more pressing matters – the vampires that are running riot in the city, and whoever the fuck is controlling them, and whether that person knows what she is – I'm here, losing myself in her.

I sit down in the armchair and watch her sleeping. How many times have I dreamed of watching her like this? Of being close to her? Of seeing her come while I'm inside her? Feeling her clench around me, and hearing her scream my name?

Now, here she is.

But I do not deserve the pleasure she makes me feel.

After everything I've done, after all these centuries of guarding my heart, how can I allow myself to be this vulnerable again?

I close my eyes. Memories rise from the basement of my soul, sharp and painful. And I let them come for me.

England, 1521

I stand in the shadows of our bedchamber, watching Elizabeth sleep.

For weeks, I've managed to hide my new nature from her. I have fed in secret, convincing myself that I could find a way to return to my life. That I could still be the man she married.

"Lucien?" Her voice, soft with sleep, pulls me from my thoughts. "You're home late again."

I move to her side, taking her hand in mine. Even in the dim candlelight, I can see the concern in her eyes. "I'm sorry, my love. There was business to attend to."

She sits up, her brow furrowing. "You're so cold. Are you ill?"

"No, I'm fine," I assure her, fighting the urge to recoil as her warm hand touches my cheek. Trying to ignore the throbbing vein in her neck, visible beneath her pale skin.

The scent of her blood is intoxicating, and I hate myself for noticing it.

A growl rises in my throat, and I try to bite down on it.

I kiss her neck and pull her closer. But I'm too rough. She jerks away from me and studies my face.

"Your eyes... Lucien, what's happened to you?"

I try to explain, to make her understand. I tell her everything — the ambush, the vampire who turned me, stories that sound as though they're something from a gruesome fairy tale instead of from our reality. Through it all, she listens in horrified silence.

When I finish, I reach for her hand. "But my love for you hasn't changed. We can still be together, Elizabeth. I'll find a way. I will fight what they made me. I swear to you?—"

The sting of holy water hits my face before I can react. Elizabeth stands at the edge of the bed, clutching a small vial.

"Demon," she hisses. "You're not my husband."

She scrambles from the bed, trips and falls into the dresser. Her head is bleeding. She raises her hand to touch the wound. Blood coats her fingers.

Her eyes widen. She looks at me and shakes her head. "Please, Lucien. No."

But in that moment, all my control, all my humanity, slips away. I move without thinking, my hand closing around her throat.

It's over in seconds.

I sink my teeth into her neck and drink until there is nothing left.

I don't try to turn her. I don't know how.

I let her slip away from me and stare at her lifeless body as it crumples onto the floor. And while I stare at her... I feel nothing.

Nothing except the need to feed again.

Luna stirs in her sleep. She murmurs something and the sound of her voice drags me back to the present.

She sits up in bed, stretching her arms out sideways as if she has had the most peaceful sleep of her life. When she sees me, she smiles, and my dark mood lifts.

I hate that it lifts from looking at her.

Being with her.

I hate that even though I know love leads to nothing but pain and betrayal, I can feel myself falling for her.

I should send her away from this place. But I can't because I need to keep her safe the way I need air to breathe and blood to feed on. It is an unquestionable part of my being now.

She is a part of my being.

"I'm suddenly absolutely starving," she says, reaching for her glasses. As she slips them onto the bridge of her nose, she yawns and holds one hand over her stomach. It grumbles loudly.

"Pasta." I gesture to the tray. "I brought it last night."

She nods and motions for me to bring it to her, sitting up and folding her legs beneath the bedsheets.

I set the tray down and watch as she levers a forkful of food into her mouth.

"Coffee?"

She tilts her head at me.

"I can have some coffee brought up. If you'd like some."

She frowns as if she's confused by my overly formal way of addressing her all of a sudden. "Coffee would be good. Do you have staff for that?"

I find my phone, in my pants pocket on the floor by the fireplace, and text Trent. If you're awake, bring coffee, milk, and sugar to Luna's room.

He was dubious about me bringing her here. But he's also curious, so I know he'll obey my request. Desperate to catch a glimpse of the woman who is so important she has to be locked inside my house for her own safety.

"Not staff, exactly."

Luna wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm guessing you don't eat?"

"I can if I want to, but it always feels a little pointless." I pull my pants on and sit down on the edge of the bed.

She bites her lower lip, then glances at my wrist. "It's healed already."

"It has." I am shirtless and notice her gaze moving to my chest. "How do you feel?"

Her nose wrinkles. She puts down the fork and moves the tray to one side. "Lighter," she says." As if I've taken a quadruple dose of my meds."

"I'm glad it helped you."

"You really are glad, aren't you?" she asks, reaching for my hand.

The gesture is intimate and soft and makes me feel like I should stand up and jerk away from her. But as her fingers slot between mine and she smiles at me, I can't ignore the desire to just be in her presence. Like this.

I'm about to kiss her again, pull the sheets away from her body and trail kisses down her throat, when there's a knock on the door. I open it to find Trent holding a cafetière in one hand and two mugs in the other. A carton of milk is tucked under his arm and a packet of sugar protrudes from him jeans pocket. He looks exhausted, and it occurs to me I have no idea what time it is.

"You'd make a terrible butler," I grumble, letting him inside so he can set down the cafetière on the coffee table.

"Sorry, boss. I didn't realize you were entertaining, or I'd have used the posh silverware." He casts a too-long glance in Luna's direction. I sense his muscles tense. He flicks his gaze over her face, her body, even though it's hidden beneath the sheets, and she draws her legs up to her chest uncomfortably.

Anger flares in my gut.

I slam my hand around his throat and have him pinned against the wall before he can whimper, "What did I do, boss?"

"You don't look at her like that. Ever." My face is inches from his. "In fact. You don't look at her. You don't think about her. She is under my protection and mine alone. If I catch you so much as breathing in her direction again, I'll personally ensure you never see another full moon. Do I make myself clear?"

Trent nods quickly. "Of course, boss. It won't happen again."

I lean in closer, my voice barely above a whisper. "See that it doesn't. Remember, I can smell your thoughts. Keep them pure or keep them nonexistent when it comes to her. Understood?"

"Yes, boss," Trent replies, visibly shaken.

I know I'm overreacting. But I also know that Luna's pulse has quickened and that she's watching me right now.

And I need her to see this.

I need her to know I meant it when I said I would protect her.

He made her uncomfortable.

He won't do it again.

"Good. Now get back to your post. And spread the word — Luna is off limits to everyone but me."