CHAPTER 12 - The Offer

I don’t feel safe.

The thought is clear. Calm. Heavy.

Lucian watches me closely. Not like a guard. Not like a predator. Like a man waiting for a verdict.

“You brought me here for answers,” I say. “Start talking.”

He nods once. “You don’t waste time.”

“I lost enough of it,” I reply.

He places a folder in front of me. Thick. Old. Marked with symbols I recognize from my mother’s journals.

My chest tightens. “You said you had proof.”

“I do.”

I haven't touched the folder yet.

“Before I open that,” I say, “tell me why I should trust you.”

Lucian leans back. His voice is steady. “Because I gain nothing from lying to you now.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“No,” he admits. “But it’s honest.”

I opened the folder.

The first page hits like a slap.

Names. Dates. Agreements.

My father’s name is there.

Signed.

My fingers tremble. “He never agreed to this.”

Lucian watches my face carefully. “I know.”

I flip the page. Another document. Another signature.

“That’s his writing,” I whisper. “But it’s wrong.”

“Yes.”

I look up sharply. “Wrong how?”

Lucian points to a small detail. “Your father never crossed his T’s like that.”

My breath catches.

“You’re saying it’s forged.”

“I’m saying he was framed,” Lucian replies. “And erased.”

My throat burns. “By who?”

Lucian doesn’t hesitate. “Damon’s family.”

The words sink in deep.

“They signed a treaty using your father’s name,” Lucian continues. “Then accused him of betrayal when the deal collapsed.”

“That’s why we went into hiding,” I whisper. “That’s why my mother was terrified.”

Lucian nods. “She knew they would come for you next.”

Anger rises. Slow. Controlled.

“All these years,” I say quietly. “They looked me in the eyes.”

Lucian’s voice hardens. “They built their power on your family’s fall.”

I close the folder. My hands shake.

“So this is your offer?” I ask. “Revenge?”

“No,” he says. “Truth.”

“And what happens after the truth?” I press.

Lucian leans forward. “You take back what was stolen.”

I scoff. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

He meets my gaze. “You’re the last Vale.”

The words hit harder than any blow.

“I never wanted a throne,” I whisper.

“None of the strongest ever do,” he replies.

A sharp knock interrupts us.

Lucian stiffens.

Before he can speak, a voice cuts through the air.

“Aria!”

My heart drops.

Damon.

I stand slowly. “He followed us.”

Lucian’s jaw tightens. “I expected that.”

The doors open.

Damon steps in, eyes wild. “Thank God. You’re safe.”

I laugh. Once. Bitter.

“Safe?” I repeat. “From who?”

He rushes toward me. “From him.”

Lucian doesn’t move. “Careful.”

Damon ignores him. “Come home, Aria. You don’t belong here.”

I hold up the folder. “Do you recognize these?”

His eyes flicker.

“Aria”

“Do you recognize my father’s name?” I demand.

Silence.

“That silence,” I say softly, “tells me everything.”

Damon swallows. “My family did what they had to do.”

“For power?” I snap.

“For survival,” he insists.

“My family survived too,” I say. “Until you erased us.”

He steps closer. “I was trying to protect you.”

“By lying?” I ask. “By sending wolves after me?”

His voice breaks. “I never ordered that.”

“Your crest was on their necks,” I say coldly.

Lucian speaks calmly. “You lost control of your house.”

Damon turns on him. “This is between me and my wife.”

I straighten. “No. This is between me and the truth.”

Damon reaches for me. “Come back. Please.”

I step away.

“I won’t be rescued,” I say firmly. “I won’t be silenced.”

His eyes fill with panic. “You don’t know what you’re stepping into.”

“I know exactly what I’m stepping out of,” I reply.

Lucian watches quietly. Waiting.

Damon’s guards flood in behind him.

Lucian’s voice is calm. “Choose your next words carefully.”

Damon looks torn. “Aria, tell him to stand down.”

I lift my chin. My voice is steady.

“Leave,” I say.

The room goes still.

Damon stares at me. “What?”

“You heard me,” I continued. “Leave. Now.”

His face crumples. “You’re choosing him?”

I shake my head. “I’m choosing myself.”

Lucian’s eyes soften.

Damon takes a step back. Pain burns in his gaze.

“This isn’t over,” he says hoarsely.

“No,” I agree. “It’s just beginning.”

He turns and leaves.

The doors close.

Silence settles.

Lucian studies me. “You crossed a line tonight.”

I exhale slowly. “Good.”

He steps closer. “They won’t forgive this.”

“I don’t want forgiveness,” I say. “I want answers.”

Lucian nods. “Then we prepare.”

“For what?” I ask.

He looks at me with something like respect.

“War,” he says.

My pulse quickens.

“And Lucian?” I add quietly.

“Yes?”

“If my father didn’t sign that treaty…”

His voice is low. “Then someone else did.”

A chill runs through me.

“Who?” I whisper.

Lucian’s gaze darkens.

“That,” he says, “is the next secret you’re not ready for.”

The question hangs between us, heavy and dangerous.