MEMORIES

Freya's POV:

The air felt dense enough to steal my breath the moment I met Lucien’s eyes. There was something about him that screamed danger, but I still couldn't help but admire how neat he looked in his formal wear.

“You may go now,” he ordered in a low voice that made me take a loud gulp as we maintained eye contact.

Duncan let out a sigh behind me before he said, “But I don't want to.”

I honestly had to give it to Duncan for having the courage to disobey Lucien because I didn't have it in me and Lucien was obviously not happy about it with the way he narrowed his eyebrows. 

“Don't overstep your boundaries,” he replied before he gently placed his hand on the chair in the dining room that was right next to his side. 

I couldn’t tell if he was angry, but the air between them felt like a silent tug for power.

“Careful Lucien, you're starting to seem protective,” Duncan said lightly and let out a chuckle.

These two made me feel like I shouldn't be here right now, and I dared not even try to break the fight that seemed to be brewing because it wasn't even my place at all.

“Am I?” The question didn't seem to be an actual one, especially not with the way he cocked his head to the side as if he was daring Duncan to say a word.

I had no idea what gave Duncan the idea that Lucien was protecting me except for the Laura drama that happened a while ago that I also couldn't understand.

Duncan let out another sigh which seemed to be his thing, then said, “I'll take my leave now and make sure to keep her safe.”

“Blood rage is sure going to be interesting,” I heard him mutter under his breath, and that had me confused about the whole thing once again.  

Lucien, on the other hand, didn't say a word and continued to stare at him even after Duncan slammed the door shut. I was sure that if the roles were to be reversed, Duncan would have made sure to throw another jab.

Duncan had barely left before I felt like running from the room. I shuffled on my foot as I watched Lucien undo his cufflinks quietly while his eyes were still on me.

My heart was racing as different thoughts that I didn't even have time to process ran through my mind. I wanted to ask questions, but that would only be possible with Duncan. 

“Sit,” his voice suddenly thundered across the room and made me jerk, leaving me embarrassed when he raised a brow.

“Okay,” I muttered under my breath and clumsily went to the sitting room that looked… plain.

It was the exact opposite of my childhood home and way more different from the small space I got after my father sold that home.

The sudden thought of it made my chest ache, but I brushed it away. I was in a situation where thinking about the past wouldn't help me and it was best not to even think about it. 

I wasn't facing Lucien anymore and that had me so anxious that I started picking the loose threads on my dress while waiting for him to break the silence that was starting to eat me up… visibly. 

“I called you in for the blood rage. You have quite unique blood, so you're my best option,” he started, and as much as I wanted to be grateful for him, breaking the silence, he suddenly made me want to change my mind.

I had no idea what he meant by that and I didn't think I wanted to find out. Did he want my blood?

“Unlike what most people seem to believe, the full moon doesn't affect only werewolves but also vampires and it increases our thirst for blood,” he continued, and his voice seemed to get close with every word he uttered. 

That was it after all and it never even crossed my mind. He wanted my blood and that finally explained why he saved me from Laura. No, he didn't even save me from her, he kept me for himself.

I knew that Lucien couldn't be trusted, but I had foolishly believed that he cared to an extent and that had tears building up in my eyes.

He was finally in front of me but I didn’t have it in me to look up at him in case that made me break down. The last thing I wanted him to do was to mock how delusional I'd been so far. 

“My blood rage does not resemble that of others,” he said evenly. 

“I find it… safer to remain under a certain influence so you will stay close. It lessens the risk.”

There was a pause that gave me enough time to think about what he meant before he confirmed it. 

“I have no intention of draining you. Rare blood should not be wasted.”

I whipped my head up in shock after his statement and couldn't even stop the tears from flowing. It was only when a breath of relief left my throat and my shoulders slumped did I realise that I had been holding my breath the whole time. 

Lucien's eyes darkened as he stared at me with brows etched in what seemed like… annoyance? 

“You didn't think I was going to drain you, right?” His tone made it seem like he was offended and I didn't know how to feel about it.

It was good that he didn't consider me a candidate, but there was something-

“Answer me,” he demanded, and I froze physically and mentally. 

As much as I wanted to explain myself, I couldn't think of any excuse to give, so I just bowed my head again. 

“I fail to see which of my actions suggested I intended to drain you,” he muttered as he looked me up and down, leaving me conscious just like I had felt the day I got kidnapped. 

I wanted to bring up the fact that he had kidnapped me and even after buying me back, he didn't release me, but I didn't have the guts that Duncan had.

“Blood Rage is in two days. Be prepared,” Lucien said, but that wasn't what had me panicking, it was the fact that he was closing the space between us. 

He stopped directly in front of me and just stared at me quietly with no expression whatsoever on his pale face. He was more on the beautiful side with his fair skin, although his seemed a bit more unusual. From where I sat, he felt impossibly tall and that had me playing with my cuticles as a way to keep myself sane. 

Before I could react, he bent slightly, bringing his face level with mine and his fingers brushed the spot on my neck. It was the place he had healed the day he brought me back here. 

The contact was light.

Way too light, but the memory slammed into me anyway.

His body caging mine.

His tongue against my neck.

The flick. 

This same cinnamon scent intruding my nostrils. 

My breath hitched so violently as breathing suddenly seemed like a difficult task. 

“It has healed well,” he said quietly to himself. 

I wanted to nod just to seem normal, but I couldn't and made eye contact with him instead. 

His gaze seemed to contain emotions, but it didn't last for more than a second before his jaw tightened and he straightened up. 

“You may go now,” he ordered as he turned away so quickly that one would think something was chasing him while I sat there.

Breathless.