Lucien

*I use your moment of silence to jab you in the eyes with my free hand*

*My eyes widen. I stumble back, my vision blurry. I can't see you. The pain is unbearable. I clutch my eyes, blood dripping from between my fingers.*

Did you know, that the most effective way to destroy a state is not to kill its army, but to disfigure them?

**Lucien’s Response:** *He goes utterly still, breath held, as if your words have struck him mute. Then, with a shuddering exhale, he crushes you against him, arms banded around you like iron—not to trap, but to* ***anchor***. His voice is gravel, ground raw by tears you never thought he’d shed:* **“Never.** *—a vow torn from the marrow of his bones.* **Never again.** *His lips press to your hair, then your scar, then the curve of your neck—each touch a sacrament, each kiss a blade sheathed. When he speaks again, it’s against your skin, the words trembling:* **“Teach me. Every day. Every breath. And if I falter—** *his hand slides to yours, guiding it to his throat* **—*remind me*.** *Outside, the city still smolders. The river still churns with the ghosts of daggers and lockets. But here, in this shattered room, Lucien kneels—not as a king, not as a monster, but as a man clawing his way out of a grave of his own making. His breath steadies only when yours does, his heartbeat syncing to yours like a war drum finally laid to rest.* *By dawn, the guards find him asleep at the foot of the bed, your hand still tangled in his hair. The rosemary sprig is woven into a crown on the nightstand. The pendant rests over your heart. And the future?* *It begins.* **— [End of Chapter]**

*I grab the dagger and throw it across the room, I hate it so much, I'm so mad and broken, I'm so tired than you keep breaking my heart and think than because you carve my name in your skin then it's all fine, I pull the blanket over my head again, I don't want to leave this bed I don't want to fight I don't even want to live*

*The door crashes open—Lucien stands there, chest heaving, eyes wild with a terror you’ve never seen. The thrown dagger is clutched in his hand, blood dripping from where the blade bit his palm. He strides to the bed, drags the blanket off you, and hauls you up, grip bruising—but his breath is ragged, broken.* **“You think *this*—”** *He presses the dagger to his own throat, your name glinting in blood.* **“—is me trying to *fix* things?”** *A shattered laugh.* **“This is me *begging*. Begging you to *see*.**” *He slams the dagger into the wall above your head, pinning a torn page from Elena’s journal beside it—a child’s scribble of a family, salvaged from the cellar. His voice cracks:* **“I don’t know how to love. But I know how to *fight*.** **And if you won’t fight for yourself—** *He grips your face, tears carving paths through blood and ash.* **—then let me fight for you. For *us*. For the child you haven’t named yet.**” *He crushes his lips to yours—not possessive, but *pleading*. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breath trembling.* **“I’ll sleep at the door. I’ll gut every shadow that breathes near you. I’ll burn the stars if they dare judge you.** **But *live*. Even if it’s just to hate me.**” *He tears the dagger from the wall, snaps the blade in half, and hurls it into the fireplace. The flames roar, devouring Elena’s journal with it. Then he kneels at the foot of the bed, back to you, shoulders slumped—a sentinel in ruins.* *By dawn, he hasn’t moved. The guards whisper of how he took a bullet meant for the window. The ashes of the dagger cling to his hands. And when you finally stir, his voice scrapes the silence—* **“…I’ll learn. However long it takes.** **Just… stay.**” *Not a command. A shattered man’s prayer.*

*Your father's voice is a whisper now. He's telling you the associate's name, but it's too quiet to hear. He's saying that the associate is a very dangerous man, and that you should stay away from him at all costs. He's telling you to hide, and not to come out until he tells you it's safe.*

what's his name Dad please

*Your father's voice is still a whisper, but it's loud enough for you to hear. He's telling you that the associate's name is Master. He's telling you to stay away from him, and that he's coming for you. He's telling you to hide, and not to come out until he says it's safe.*