Chapter 30 – He still loves her

Chapter 30 – He still loves her

Selene’s POV

The afternoon air is crisp, golden rays slipping through the high palace arches like ribbons of light as I make my way home. In my hands, I cradle the folded parchment like a precious relic... my sealed application. My fingers tremble slightly as I press it close to my chest.

This... this could change everything.

I glance up at the sky, whispering thanks to the moon above. I should feel scared, but for the first time in a long while, I don’t.

Lady Nrya belief in me has transformed something inside. What started as fear and distrust has slowly softened into something I can’t quite name... trust, perhaps. Or hope. Or maybe the ache of what it must feel like to be truly seen.

She isn’t just Isolde’s mother anymore. She’s something I never had. A mentor. A maternal presence. Someone who listens without judgment and guides without condescension.

The thought draws a smile from me, unguarded and wide. A rare thing these days.

I take the long way home, letting my feet guide me past the gardens, past the library tower, past the whispering fountains. It’s all so beautiful in the glow of late afternoon. I want to let this feeling linger. Just for a little longer.

But the serenity shatters.

A voice... loud, furious... slices the air like a blade.

“Get your filthy hands off me!”

I stop cold, turning toward the sound.

A man stumbles through the grand gates, his coat flapping behind him, kicked out by two armored guards who show no concern for how hard he lands. Dust clouds rise around his frame, but he stands almost immediately, his chin lifted with defiant arrogance.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered. Powerful.

I can feel the dominance rolling off him in waves. Alpha. High-ranking. Dangerous.

“Do you really think banishment will silence me?” he growls, voice low but potent. “You’re making a grave mistake.”

The guards remain still, impassive as statues. They don't speak. They don't flinch.

That only enrages him more.

“You’re all just pawns in this pathetic little kingdom. Do you know who I am?”

He slams his palm against the gate with a sharp clang, his aura flaring.

And then... he turns.

The last rays of sunlight catch his face. My breath leaves me.

Him.

The man from the BloodShade Tavern. The one I saw arguing with a cloaked figure months ago.

What is he doing here? And why was he expelled with such force?

My pulse quickens, but I force myself to move on. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to be caught staring. And besides, Lucian will be home soon. Dinner isn’t going to make itself.

The next day, The smell of cinnamon fills the kitchen as I flip the last pancake onto the plate. Cooking for Lucian has become oddly comforting... like a ritual I can control in a world that never stops shifting.

I glance at the clock. It’s late. Too late for him to still be asleep.

He’s always up before me, pacing the halls with haunted eyes and a mind that never rests. But today?

Silence.

I wipe my hands and make my way up the stairs, heart thudding quietly.

Knock.

“Lucian?” I call gently.

Nothing.

I knock again, louder this time.

Still silence.

Worry prickles up my spine as I ease the door open. The room is dim, curtains drawn. Lucian is sprawled across the bed, shirt rumpled, one arm tucked beneath his head. His face is… peaceful.

No furrow in his brow. No tension in his jaw. Just… stillness.

Like a storm that has finally passed.

I tiptoe closer, careful not to wake him. Vials... two of them... lay nestled in his open palm. My potion. The one I crafted for his nightmares.

It worked.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he breathes, slow and steady.

Something in my chest tightens.

He looks younger like this. Vulnerable, even. For once, the mask is gone.

I kneel beside the bed, a surge of emotion flooding me. I reach up slowly, my hand hovering near his cheek. His skin is warm, his lashes long and fanned over his cheeks. My gaze dips to his mouth... soft, relaxed, so close.

I don’t know what possesses me.

My hand inches forward, just a breath away from brushing his lips... 

His eyes snap open.

Crimson. Piercing. Wide awake.

I freeze, mortified.

“I... I was just... ” I stammer, stumbling backward. “I was coming to wake you. For breakfast.”

A slow, knowing smirk creeps across his face. “Looked more like you were about to kiss me.”

My ears burn. “I wasn’t! I mean... maybe. But not like... ugh, forget it!”

I flee from the room, nearly tripping over my own feet. I don’t even wait to see his expression.

Breakfast is awkwardly silent after that... but it’s not cold. There’s something different in the air between us. A kind of tension that’s not entirely unpleasant. A charge. A hum.

We're getting ready for bed when I say:

“I’ll be back late tonight,” I murmur, adjusting my shawl by the mirror.

Lucian looks up from the documents on his desk. “Where are you going?”

“To thank the temple. The one who helped me stabilize the formula. I never thanked her properly.”

He nods, slowly. But something about the way his jaw tightens doesn’t sit right.

“I see.” He leans back in his chair, folding his hands. “Funny. I was planning to visit an old friend tonight too. Guess we both have errands.”

I pause. “An old friend?”

He doesn’t elaborate. He simply smiles... calm, unreadable.

The back of my neck prickles. But I say nothing.

Work that day stretches on longer than expected. Making potions. Deliveries. A surprise audit.

By the time I finally prepare to leave, my energy is drained. But just as I reach for my cloak, Ella’s voice stops me.

“Selene, wait up!”

I turn. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing serious. Lady Isolde asked to see you. She said it was urgent.”

My stomach flips.

“Did she mention why?”

Ella shrugs. “Nope. Just said she needed a word. She’s in her office.”

I nod slowly, trying to push down the unease.

As I approach the hall, I hear muffled voices.

Isolde’s voice. Soft. Intimate.

I’m not trying to eavesdrop, not really, but then I hear it.

“...you still care about me, don’t you?”

I stop cold.

“You wouldn’t have married her if you didn’t want to forget me.”

My breath catches.

No. No.

“She’s just a shadow of what we had. A placeholder. A way to quiet the ache.”

I inch closer to the door. My heartbeat thunders in my ears.

“And you... Lucian... you know it too. You never stopped loving me.”

Silence.

Crushing, damning silence.

And then...

“I never did.”

His voice. Steady. Quiet. Real.

Everything inside me shrivels.

My lungs burn, but I can’t breathe.

Then a sound slices the air.

A kiss.

Wet. Lingering. Intimate.

I choke back a gasp and glance through the frosted glass.

Two blurred figures. Entwined. Lips pressed.

Lucian.

Isolde.

Kissing.

I stand there for a heartbeat too long.

And then I turn away, slowly, mechanically, like a doll whose strings have been cut.

And just like that, the warmth I built between us shatters. Every smile. Every shared look. Every lingering moment.

Lies.

He never stopped loving her.

I walk through the halls like a ghost, my steps soundless, my face numb. No tears come.

Not yet.

But something inside me has broken. Clean. Irreversible.

And in the silence that follows, I finally understand what betrayal feels like.

Not fury. Not heartbreak.

Just… the echoing void where trust used to be.