Lucian's Regret Chapter 6 Novels & Stories

Scarlett’s POV The silence that followed his words was deafening. His vulnerability, his brokenness, and his determination all hung in the air, leaving me to decide if this man—flawed and remorseful, but deeply committed—was someone I could risk my heart for again. Lucian’s voice was sincere, each word laced with raw emotion and heavy with self-doubt. I could feel the weight he carried, the way he had internalized every failure, every moment he thought he’d let me down. His remorse wasn’t performative; it was tangible, bleeding into the space between us. Lucian wasn’t just apologizing—he was laying himself bare, stripped of pride, offering himself wholly, ready to rebuild the pieces of what

She opened her mouth to reply, but he was already gone, leaving behind a silence heavier than before. >>>>>>>>>>>> AT IRON-CLAWS PACK~~~~~~~~~~~ Lucian paced across his chamber, boots clicking against the cold marble floor. His breath came in uneven waves, the taste of guilt bitter on his tongue. He dragged a hand through his hair, unable to scrub away the image of Selera’s flushed face, the sound of her soft breaths echoing in his ears. “She’s not supposed to matter, he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenching. It was just a distraction… nothing more.”

her light hazel eyes stared at him widely, make him feel guilt, pain and regret at the same. "Khloe," He whispered her name. Lucian started shifting back into his full human formed and he was not only feeling guilty, he was embarrassed to stare at this lady in front of him, "But why?" He had no answer to it. "Are you mad at me?" she asked with a tear filled eyes. How can she think that I am mad at her? Lucian thought cupping her face. He shook his head, "No" Lucia whispered to her. "Why are you upset and why..."

Chapter 130 Author's POV Lucian sat in front of his mirror, his eyes bloodshot red. He was trying to think about what could be wrong. He knew something wasn't right. He couldn't just ask his father and neither could he ask Cassian - not again. At that very moment, he needed Dorian.

“If Nathan had brought anyone else—slave, pauper, noble—I think you would have supported them wholeheartedly. I am so disappointed in you.” He whispered those last words, then left. Sarang’s last words struck Lucian like a blade. The alpha sank into his chair in silence, eyes laden with fear and a silver of regret in his chest. He clenched a nearby cup in his hand and shattered it. The sting of the glass cutting into his skin gave him some relief, sharp enough to stop the heartwrenching pain in his chest from swallowing him whole. Blood dripped down his knuckles. He clenched his fist tighter.

“What the fuck did you just say?!” Lucian looked at his friend. Yes! He had all the right to talk to him like that, Lucian was crazy, completely crazy now. ******* At Acosta's house, with his tie, shirt and hair a mess, Adel drank and drank until he wanted to lose himself in the person he was before he had to see the vivid memory of that woman who was next to Lucian and who looked like April. No, she couldn’t be the same woman. Tears kept flowing from his eyes. He was sorry, regret had come into his life, into his heart and this time it was coming not to leave until the regret was satiated like a revenge that has been exacted.

What the fuck was wrong with him? “Sir, I feel better now,” Clara mumbled sounding a little husky. Wait, was she feeling this too? “Oh, sorry.” Lucian rushed to his feet and away from her as though touching her burned him. Clara rose to her full height, wobbling a little and Lucian rushed to her side in less than a second. Lucian let out a painful laugh, frustrated at himself for being in the same position twice in less than a minute. He hated this, whatever it was, he held no control over his actions anymore and that never meant anything good for him and those around him.

The heavy mechanical click of the eighty-floor executive elevator doors closing cut off the last trace of vanilla and winter roses from the room. Alexander remained on his knees on the cold marble floor of the deserted boardroom. The silence that rushed in to fill the space was absolute, punctuated only by the rhythmic, wet dripping of his own Lycan blood falling from his torn gray sleeve onto the dark stone. His chest heaved, each breath a localized explosion of white-hot agony that vibrated against his fractured ribs. The silver poison from Logan's blade and the enforcers' rounds had officially breached his secondary immune walls, spreading a spiderweb of thick, black necrotic veins all th

Lucien’s expression became unreadable. “Because once, someone taught me that lesson.” For the first time, Elara saw something behind his anger. Regret. Pain. Then it disappeared. “You should be careful, Elara.” “Of what?” Lucien looked toward the darkness beyond the valley. “Of believing that love alone is enough to defeat the things coming for you.” Before she could respond, he vanished into the night. ⸻ Elara looked back at the moon. At Riven. At the future waiting for her.

A new secret I hadn’t yet shared with Lucian. The timing couldn’t be worse. But hope was growing again—fragile and fierce—right in the middle of war. **End of Chapter 61** --- (Word count: 2,805) --- Ready for **Chapter 62: The Enemy’s Son** at ~2800 words? Let me know if you'd like any adjustments before we continue! 🔥 **Chapter 61: Old Friend, New Doubts**