Chapter Twenty Five

Breaking Point

Lucien

Irene screamed.

“What is wrong with you?” she cried, her voice sharp and afraid. “Lucien, stop. Please stop.”

Her words reached my ears, but they felt far away. Everything felt far away.

My head was full. Too full. My father’s voice filled it first, cold and cutting.

You are useless.

Then my brother’s laughter followed, loud and cruel.

Look at him. He thinks he can rule.

The sounds mixed together until I could no longer tell one from the other. My chest burned. My heart beat hard, fast, like it was trying to break free.

Irene struggled beneath me, her hands pushing against my chest. “Lucien,” she said again, her voice shaking. “What is happening to you?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

My wolf was too close. I could feel it pushing against my skin, angry and wild. Everything inside me wanted to lash out. To hurt something. To make the noise stop.

My hands shook as I held her down. Not tight. Not gentle. Just there.

“Stop,” she said again. “You’re scaring me.”

Her voice faded, replaced by my father’s again.

This is your last chance.

My brother’s voice followed.

Even a broken leg can’t hide a broken man.

I clenched my teeth. My breathing grew rough. I leaned forward, my head dropping near her shoulder as if the weight of everything had finally crushed me.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure if I said it out loud. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Irene froze.

“Lucien?” she whispered. “Talk to me.”

For a moment, there was silence in my head. Just a moment.

Then another voice cut through it all.

“What are you doing?”

I froze.

That voice was real. Clear. Not in my head.

I turned my head sharply.

Erwin stood in the doorway.

His eyes were wide, his chest rising fast as he took in the scene. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Get away from her,” he said.

The command hit me hard.

I straightened slowly, still over Irene, my body tense and shaking. My wolf snarled inside me, angry at being challenged.

“This is not your place,” I said, my voice rough.

Erwin stepped forward. “It became my place the moment you lost control.”

Irene gasped beneath me. “Erwin,” she said quickly. “Help me.”

Something inside me snapped.

I moved before I thought, rising and turning toward him. My wolf surged, filling my limbs with heat and strength.

“You don’t understand,” I growled.

Erwin shoved me.

Hard.

I stumbled back a step, my leg screaming in pain. Rage flared. I lunged at him, grabbing his tunic and slamming him into the wall.

“You should not be here,” I said. “You should not see this.”

Erwin didn’t back down. He pushed back, his shoulder digging into my chest.

“Then stop being this,” he shot back. “This is not you.”

I laughed, sharp and broken. “You don’t know who I am.”

We struggled, hands gripping, feet sliding across the floor. My strength was greater, but my control was gone. I shoved him again, harder this time.

He didn’t fight it.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around me.

The move caught me off guard.

My body froze. My breath hitched.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

Erwin held on tighter. “Enough,” he said quietly. “Just stop.”

The fight drained out of me all at once.

My hands fell from his clothes. My shoulders slumped. The anger cracked, and everything I had been holding back rushed out.

My chest tightened.

I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and broke.

A sound tore out of me, rough and ugly. I didn’t try to stop it. My arms wrapped around him without thinking, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping me upright.

“I can’t do this,” I choked. “I can’t breathe in that place. I can’t win. I can’t even fail the right way.”

Erwin stayed silent. He didn’t push me away. He didn’t speak.

That made it worse.

Tears burned my eyes. I hadn’t cried like this since I was a boy. Since before the accident. Since before everything went wrong.

“They hate me,” I said. “They look at me and see a mistake.”

My grip tightened. “I try. I swear I try.”

My breathing slowed little by little, the storm inside me losing strength.

Behind us, Irene’s voice cut in, sharp and angry.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “Who gave you the right to come in here?”

I stiffened.

Reality rushed back.

I pulled away from Erwin slowly, my chest still aching. Irene sat up on the bed, her eyes flashing as she looked at him.

“This is between me and him,” she said. “You don’t belong here.”

“Enough,” I said, my voice sharp and low. “Keep quiet, Irene.”

She froze at my tone.

The room felt too small. The walls pressed in on me. My head spun, the anger draining fast and leaving something worse behind. Weakness. My knees felt unsteady, and I had to grip the bedpost to keep myself standing.

Irene opened her mouth again. “Lucien, you can’t just—”

“I said be quiet,” I snapped.

The words came out harsher than I meant, but I did not take them back. I could not handle her voice. Every sound felt loud. Every movement felt heavy.

Erwin was still standing in front of me.

Close.

Too close.

And yet, for some reason I could not explain, the spinning in my head slowed when I focused on him. My chest still hurt, but my breathing eased a little. My wolf, which had been clawing at me moments ago, grew quieter.

I took a shaky breath.

“Don’t,” Irene said suddenly, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t listen to him. He’s nothing. Just a servant boy who thinks he can touch what isn’t his.”

Erwin shifted, placing himself slightly in front of me.

That was when Irene lost her patience.

She lunged forward and grabbed Erwin’s arm. “Move,” she barked. “Get out of the way.”

Something ugly rose inside me.

“Let go of him,” I said.

She didn’t.

Instead, she tugged him hard, trying to pull him away from me. “You think he cares about you?” she hissed. “He’s using you. Just like I am supposed to.”

I stepped forward and shoved her.

Not hard enough to hurt her badly, but enough to send her stumbling back onto the bed.

“Don’t touch him,” I said again, slower this time.

Irene stared at me, shocked. Her mouth opened, then closed. Her face twisted with anger.

“You’re choosing him?” she asked. “After everything I agreed to?”

“I didn’t choose anyone,” I replied. “I’m done.”

I turned away from her and reached for Erwin’s sleeve. “Come on,” I said. “We’re leaving.”

Erwin hesitated only a second before nodding.

Irene screamed behind us. “You will regret this! Both of you!”

I ignored her.

The corridor outside felt cooler, quieter. My steps were unsteady, but I kept walking. Erwin stayed beside me, his shoulder close enough that I could feel his presence.

The dizziness came back in waves. My vision blurred for a moment, and I stopped, bracing my hand against the stone wall.

“You should sit,” Erwin said softly.

“I can’t,” I replied. “If I stop, I won’t move again.”

We walked until the doors opened to the night air. The moon hung high above the castle grounds. The sound of insects filled the silence.

I breathed in deeply.

The ache in my chest eased a little more.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said suddenly.

Erwin didn’t answer, but he didn’t leave either.

“I try to be calm,” I went on. “I try to think before I act. But everything keeps piling up. My father. My brother. This stupid marriage.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “They look at me and see failure. They don’t even hide it.”

I turned to face him. “And the worst part is that sometimes I believe them.”

Still no reply.

I rubbed my face with both hands. “I was never meant to be like this,” I said. “I wasn’t always angry. I wasn’t always broken.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“I’m tired, Erwin,” I admitted. “I’m so tired of fighting people who already decided I lost.”

I waited.

Silence.

I frowned and lowered my hands.

“Say something,” I said, trying to sound annoyed instead of uneasy. “You dragged me out here. At least argue with me.”

No answer.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

I turned fully toward him.

“Erwin?”

The space beside me was empty.

My breath caught.

I looked around quickly. The courtyard was quiet. The shadows stretched long across the ground. There was no sign of him near the doors. No footsteps fading away.

“He was just here,” I whispered.

My chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t rage.

It was fear.

I scanned the area, my eyes darting from corner to corner. “Erwin,” I called, louder now. “This isn’t funny.”

But u saw nothing.

The comfort I had felt moments ago vanished, leaving the night colder than before.

I stood there alone, with my heart pounding, and staring into the dark where he should have been, knowing with sudden certainty that something was very wrong.