18: What She Does To Me

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18: What She Does To Me

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LUCIEN

“You let it happen.”

My father’s voice cut through the study sharply.

I stood across from his desk, hands clenched at my sides, jaw tight. He didn’t raise his voice. He never did. He didn’t need to. His anger was always perpetual, sitting on his head like a fucking crown.

“You allowed our name to be dragged through the dirt,” he continued. “You allowed weakness to be perceived. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to this family?”

I laughed—a sharp, humorless sound.

“Funny,” I said. “You say allowed like I somehow leaked it myself.”

“It got leaked because you were not careful enough!” He snapped back. I didn’t flinch. “Stop trying to absolve yourself of the blame, Lucien. You are responsible for everything attached to you. Including your… condition.”

There it was.

That word.

Condition.

I stepped closer to the desk. 

“You don’t get to say that like you ever gave a damn.”

His expression didn’t change.

“You never acted like a father,” I went on, my voice rising despite myself. “You never looked for a cure. Not once. You didn’t even try.”

He scoffed lightly.

“All you did was tell me I was weak,” I snapped. “That I was flawed. You dragged me into the sun like it was discipline, like the pain would scare the vampire out of me. You burned me and called it training.”

His jaw tightened, just slightly.

“You locked me up,” I said. “Kept me in that house like I was an embarrassment. Nineteen years. Nineteen fucking years, father, all because you were too scared of what I was to deal with it properly.”

“Enough,” he said flatly.

“No,” I shot back. “You don’t get to ‘enough’ me now. You threatened me. You punished me for something I didn’t choose. And now you want to talk about reputation?”

He stood up slowly, palms resting on the desk.

“Stop whining like a fucking child,” he said. “You survived. That is all that matters.”

I stared at him, chest heaving.

“You created this mess,” he continued. “And you will fix it. I don’t care how. The council will be watching your every move. Do not stain the Thorne name any further.”

I shook my head, a bitter smile tugging at my mouth. 

“You really are unbelievable.”

“Get out,” he said.

I didn’t hesitate. I turned and stormed out of the study, the door slamming behind me hard enough to rattle the walls.

But I barely made it down the hall before I saw her.

Maeve.

She froze when she noticed me, then immediately looked away as she hurried past me like I was something radioactive, more like she was terrified after the threat I gave her. 

Good.

That was good.

I should have kept walking, but then she turned her head slightly, just enough for me to see the curve of her neck and the faint pulse at her carotid artery as it moved with blood. 

My breath stuttered.

My fangs slid out before I could stop them.

Fuck.

Of course, she did that.

Curved her neck like that, like she didn’t know precisely what it did to me. Like she hasn’t learned by now that I could just grab her and take my fill. Like she wasn’t aware of the way my eyes consistently tracked her throat.

Maybe she did it on purpose because she knew I wouldn’t suck her blood while my father was home, let alone in front of his study.

Yeah, that had to be it. 

Fucking Slut.

Maeve was such a fucking tease, and she knew that. Walking around with blood that smelt and tasted like that, knowing what she was. Knowing what she did to me.

Blood whore.

My hands curled into fists as my body leaned forward on its own, instincts screaming louder than reason. To grab. To feed. To remind her of what she existed for.

To quench my hunger.

Anger twisted with that same hunger, and I hated myself for it. Because even as I blamed her, even as I spat those words in my mind, I knew the truth.

This wasn’t her fault.

I forced myself to turn away, jaw aching as I forced my fangs back in, every step a conscious act of restraint as I walked in the opposite direction, fury burning through my veins.

I was angry but not at her, never really at her.

But at myself.

At the monster I was, because no matter how much I was falling apart, one truth remained cruelly intact.

I still needed her blood.

****

I didn’t plan to go to Hera.

My feet just took me there because I was freaking desperate.

Her place looked the same as always, run-down, flickering sign, cracked concrete, the kind of motel people drove past and pretended didn’t exist. 

Nothing about it screamed power. Nothing about it warned you that something ancient and vicious lived inside.

I knocked anyway, and the door opened slowly. It was one of her girls. She recognized me immediately and allowed me in, leading me to Hera’s chamber. I waited for a bit before Hera came out. 

She leaned against the frame, dressed like she didn’t give a fuck that the world might just be ending tomorrow. Barefoot. Smiling sardonically. 

“Well,” she drawled. “Look what the council dragged in.”

“You’re going to help me,” I said.

She laughed. It didn’t sound like she was surprised or offended. Just amused.

“Help you?” she repeated, closing the door behind me. “Oh, Lucien. You really are desperate.”

“I’m sure you have heard that they are calling for a trial,” I recounted. “Sun at peak intensity. You know what that means.”

“I do.” She shrugged. 

“I need you,” I begged. “You have to help me, Hera. You know I won’t be able to survive that trial without you.” I pleaded.

She tilted her head, studying me like a bug pinned to glass under a microscope. 

“And what makes you think I’d help you now?”

“Because if I fail,” I said, teeth clenched, “they’ll tear everything down. The pack. The company. The throne.”

She stepped closer, eyes twinkling viciously. “And?”

My hands curled at my sides. “And I’ll die.”

That made her grin wider.

“Oh, say it again,” she teased. “I like hearing you admit it.”

Overwhelmed by anger and her taunting, I lunged.

My hand wrapped around her throat before I even realized I had moved, slamming her back against the wall hard enough to crack the cheap plaster.

Her smile didn’t fade.

“Careful,” she said lightly. “If you kill me now, you won’t stand a chance during the trial.”

My grip tightened. It didn’t faze her. 

“I might still change my mind,” she continued calmly. “Might decide to help you when you’re standing under that sun. Or I might not.” 

Her eyes gleamed. 

“Depends on my mood.”

I snarled and shoved her away, disgust burning through me.

“You’re a sick bitch,” I spat, and she just laughed, straightening her clothes like nothing had happened. 

“You can think whatever you want about me.” She stepped closer again, not scared one bit because she knew she held all the cards. “But you still need me.”

I glared at her, chest heaving, hate and helplessness tangling together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

She was right.

And she knew it.

Hera smiled like she’d already won.

“Run along, Alpha Prince,” she said softly, dismissing me with a flimsy wave of her hand. “Try not to burn.”