CHAPTER FOUR: WAR

LUCIAN

"I'll put them in water."

The voice cut through the air right after I took a step back, ready to walk off and aura farm somewhere else where no one could get on my nerves.

He talked back?

He actually talked back at me!?

The words hit me wrong. My whole body went still for half a second before my foot came back down and I turned on him. I didn’t even realize I had taken that step back until I was already doing it, just to see his face again.

And there it was. That same ocean calmness. That infuriating stillness, like nothing I said could ever touch him.

My fingers flew up into my hair and I dragged them through it, hard. Agony crawled up my spine. I wanted to grab the front of his shirt and shake him until his teeth rattled, until that calm cracked and something real came out.

"What the fuck did you just say?" I asked, and I tried to keep my voice even. I really did. But the way his lips twitched up into that short, little grin ruined it. It was everything that triggered me.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kept holding the flowers like they were something sacred, like they mattered more than me standing here furious. And the sight of it twisted something in my chest because there were already too many things wrong with this whole day.

"Can I show you to your quarters, sir?" he asked instead, shifting his body out of the way and lifting a hand to gesture down the hall.

I sucked my teeth in disgust. The sound was loud in the quiet. I bit down on my lip until it hurt, still staring at this fucking slave boy like I could burn him with my eyes.

My hand twitched toward my pocket. I could feel the cold weight of the dagger there. One move and I could have it out. One move and I could press it to his throat and watch him gag and choke until the light left his eyes. The thought was so clear it scared me.

But I couldn’t. Definitely not now, it's not nice to cause trouble on my first day of arrival.

So I dragged in a deep breath instead, but still, It did nothing to calm me. I knocked his hand away when he tried to guide me and I stormed forward into the house, anger rolling off me in waves.

Jordan had been quiet the whole time. He followed behind me now, silent as a shadow.

"Where the fuck is my dad?" I asked, and I wasn’t even aiming it at anyone in particular. I was just demanding an answer from the air.

I turned in a slow circle, trying to place myself. This was supposed to be the old seating room. The one I grew up in. But it wasn’t, anymore..The layout was different. The furniture was different. Everything had changed and I didn’t even remember half of it, and that made me feel like a stranger in my own home.

I stood there in the middle of a large lounge, lost, when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

It's him, still walking. Slow and deliberate. Still holding those damn flowers.

"Follow me, please," he said, and he didn’t even look back to see if I would.

And I did. God help me, I followed. Even though every step made my jaw clench harder. Even though it was getting more irritating by the second.

He made a few turns, then more turns. The halls stretched longer than I remembered. I started wondering why my father wasn’t out here to greet me. Why wasn’t he in the front to welcome me home after so many years away.

Maybe he had gotten himself a concubine. Maybe that’s why everything felt different.

We passed through heavy curtains, the fabric brushing cold against my arms. He stopped abruptly on the other side and I stopped too, a beat too late.

"Master is in here," he said. "So you'll wait here wh—"

I didn’t let him finish, before I shoved past him, using my shoulder to knock him out of the way, and went straight for the door.

No way was a slave going to tell me to wait to see my own father.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" I growled, my hand already closing around the door handle, about to twist it.

And then I felt it. Very cold, and firm. His hand came down over mine and stopped me.

My blood boiled instantly. I jerked my head up to look at him, seething.

"What the fuck is this supposed to mean?" I spat.

"Unfortunately, you can't just barge into this room," he said. His voice didn’t shake. Not even a little. "You can only come in with an invitation."

An invitation?

To see my own father?

In my own house?

Something snapped, inside of me, that just lost it. My hand shot out for his face, fast, aiming to wipe that calm right off him. But he was faster. His hand snapped up and caught my wrist before I could land the hit.

For the first time, that ocean calm broke.

His face flushed red. I could see it, the color rising up his neck. And his eyes, his eyes went dark. The red showed in them, bright and furious, like something inside him was ready to come undone.

"Don't make me lose it, Lucian."