Hate and Hurt

Elena’s POV

I woke before Lucian did. For a few minutes, I stared at the ceiling, thinking back to what happened last night. I gave myself away to him, willingly, and enjoyed it. I fucking enjoyed it. I moved with him and gripped him, trailing my fingers all over his skin, marking and biting him.

I was a traitor, a traitor to my family and myself.

I turned my head and looked at him.

Lucian was sleeping peacefully beside me, his breathing slow and even. Even unconscious, there was something intimidating about him. He was beautifully masculine, which made it difficult to look away. A faint stubble darkened his sharply defined jaw, making him look rougher somehow. 

He looked like ... like a god. A very handsome dangerous god.

The sight of him made my insides burn but the thoughts lasted only a few seconds when I remebered all he did

How could he sleep so peacefully after ruining my life?

I slipped out of bed, and grabbed  the dagger I kept in my bag, and returned to his side. Slowly, and carefully straddling his hard stomach. 

My fingers tightened around the handle, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. This was my chance. He was right there, completely vulnerable, and for once, I had the power to decide whether he lived or died.

I pressed the blade against his throat, and instantly his eyes opened. Lucian’s gaze dropped to the dagger before slowly returning to my face, and, to my disbelief, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

“What are you doing, wife?”

“Give me Julian,” I ordered. 

“Good morning to you too.”

My grip tightened around the dagger.

“Where is my brother?” I asked, gritting my teeth. 

Lucian’s eyes flicked toward the blade again, and I watched his throat move beneath it as he swallowed. He didn’t look frightened. He looked as though waking up with a dagger against his throat was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Elena-”

“Where is Julian, you bastard?" My voice cracked a little, but I didn’t care. I pushed the dagger harder against his skin until a bead of blood appeared beneath the blade.

“Give him back to me.” my eyes filled with tears now.

Lucian studied me for a long moment, there was pain and sadness in his gaze but soon the infuriating amusement returned to his eyes.

“And if I don’t?” He raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely curious. 

“Then I’ll kill you." My breathing became uneven. He lifted his hand and wrapped his fingers around mine. 

“Then do it, baby.” He drawled, his hips jerking upwards a little, his cock alive and strong. I stared at him, dumbfounded, he was hard? This sick bastard!

Lucian closed his hand around the blade until blood began slipping between his fingers, but he didn’t even flinch. He simply kept looking into my eyes, his expression daring me to follow through. 

“You want to kill me,” he said quietly. “You’ve wanted to kill me since the day I took your family from you. So why are you hesitating ma chère?”

“Stop.” My voice shook and my hand holding the dagger began to tremble badly. 

“Do it, Elena.”

“Stop!” I yelled.

“Kill me!" he taunted. I couldn’t, tears spilled down my cheeks.

The dagger slipped from my fingers once his grip loosened and landed on the mattress. Suddenly, I couldn’t hold myself together anymore. A sob tore from my throat as I collapsed against his chest, hitting him with both fists.

“I’ll kill you for what you did to my family.” I threatened but it was lost in my sobs. 

Lucian didn’t stop me or defend himself. He didn't tell me to calm down either. He just let me hit him until my strength disappeared, and when my fists finally became weak against his chest, his arms circled me.

That only made me cry harder, hyperventilating. I buried my face against him, my whole body shaking as tears soaked his skin.

“I let you touch me,” I whispered between sobs.

Lucian's body went rigid. He didn't utter a word, but his arms tightened around me.

“I hate you,” I whispered again, but this time it sounded less like a threat and more like grief. I felt something warm against my thigh.

Lucian sniffed, and he must have felt it too because he pulled back slightly and looked down, his expression changing when he saw the blood.

“You’re hurt.”

I glanced down. In the struggle, I must have cut myself with the dagger without realizing it. Before I could say anything, he slipped one arm beneath my knees and the other around my back, lifting me effortlessly from the bed. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

Lucian carried me to the bathroom and lowered me into a warm bath before kneeling beside the tub. 

When his fingers moved through my tangled hair, I almost flinched, but he was surprisingly gentle.

He washed my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp as he rinsed the shampoo away, and for some reason that small act made my throat tighten all over again. 

“Your hair is beautiful,” he murmured. I stared blankly at the water, yet I was aware of his hand on me, bathing me.

When he finished, he wrapped me in a towel and carried me back to the bedroom. I expected him to leave me alone, but instead, he helped me dress, pulling a dress over my limp body and fastening the buttons when my fingers refused to cooperate. 

"You look nice in dresses. Wear them often," he grumbled as he led me out of the closet. 

There was food waiting on the table. I shook my head the moment I saw it. I didn't want to eat, I had no appetite.

“You’re eating,” he said firmly. My eyes narrowed slightly, and he repeated what he said sternly this time, no argument.

He pulled me onto his lap, picked up a piece of food, and held it against my lips.

“Open.” I glared at him through swollen eyes.

“Elena,” he growled, warning me to cooperate. I finally opened my mouth, and he fed me.

It continued like that for the next two days. I refused to leave the room, and Lucian seemed to accept that without question.

He would disappear for hours to deal with whatever responsibilities came with being Emperor Alpha, but he always returned, sometimes carrying food, other times coming to check on me. 

He washed my hair, helped me bathe, made sure I ate, and even when I didn't speak, he stayed beside me. 

He never asked me to forgive him, nor did he try to justify what he had done to my family. He simply took care of me, and somehow that was almost harder to understand than his cruelty.

On the third morning, I finally woke feeling like I could breathe again.  My body was still heavy, and my eyes were swollen from crying, but the terrible emptiness inside me had loosened its grip. 

I showered on my own, pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a plain white shirt, and left my hair loose around my shoulders. 

I left the bedroom. I hadn’t made it very far when I noticed a woman standing near the staircase. I slowed to a stop, my eyes moving over her. She was tall, probably in her mid-thirties, with honey-brown skin, long light-brown hair falling in soft waves down her back, and warm brown eyes that immediately settled on me.

She was wearing a fitted, elegant dress that hugged her curves perfectly, emphasizing her narrow waist and hips, and the deep red lipstick on her lips made her look even more striking. She was feminine in a way that felt effortless.

I suddenly became conscious of my body and outfit. There was nothing wrong with me, I knew that. I had a decent figure I had always been comfortable with, I think, but standing in front of her made me feel younger and much less sophisticated. She looked like a woman who had power over herself..

Her gaze moved over me slowly. Her eyes were void of emotion.

“He finally got you,” she laughed, it was soft but unsettling, almost surprised.

"Who are you?" My brows pulled together.

She studied me for another moment before giving me a look that made my insides churn. Her lips curved into a faint smile.

“I’m Sera.” She said, eyeing me up and down again, 

“Lucian's wife.”