Lucians Regret Novels & Stories

That her sacrifice was in vain. Lucian has become obsessed with coming up with a battle plan to go after Malachai and the rest of the hunters. He trains the remaining warriors to the point of collapse, and then he pushes them harder still. But not as hard as he pushes himself - like he'll be able to outrun what he's feeling inside if he just keeps running long enough.

But those who knew him well would know that this version of him was scarier than when he was angry. Calista kept her eyes closed and remained silent. She seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. Lucian grabbed her chin, forcing her to stay awake. "Calista, who were you calling for just now?" Calista woke up in a daze. She looked at Lucian with teary eyes. Her voice was hoarse as she said, "Paul. I should have listened to you and not married Lucian. I regret it. I regret it so much ..." Lucian's gaze fell upon her, his expression unfathomable. "Regret?"

Lucian was indifferent to his words, seated in his usual armchair, facing the window of his room, which opened to the enchanting night view of the rest of the territory, as the words of his complaining soldier went on and on about his rage-driven act of decapitating the spies. He felt a bit bad for letting his rage gain the upper hand in the heat of the moment. But at the same time, he chose to feel no regrets. It felt like he had literally turned his back on the world. "If they're really after us, they'll strike again." He finally spoke after absorbing all Horace said about his wrongdoings. "We'll be better prepared by then." Lucian struggled to make sense of his own words. But he knew they

he said gently, "this isn't the time to carry the world on your shoulders." Lucian bowed his head. "Mr. Winslow… Mrs. Winslow… I—" Agatha raised a hand, stopping him. Her tone was calm, motherly but firm. "We know what happened. And we know you loved her, despite everything." Lucian's throat tightened. "Then you know I failed her." Gregory stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Son, life has a way of teaching us through pain. Sometimes, things fall apart so we can see what truly matters. Don't spend your days drowning in regret — make this pain mean something."

He walked closer to Brutus, their eyes locked as the air crackled with tension. Brutus nose flared, but he stood tall. He hated it when he was looked upon. Taking advice from people made him feel worthless—more like those more worthy than him. Lucian's eyes narrowed. "I thought about it, and I wondered, why would I come back to a place that rejected me? Why does my brother suddenly demand my return? What will he do to me this time around?" He paused and sipped from his glass as he gestured his finger at Brutus. "All of those are what you should have thought about before you made that choice... You should have gone there yourself."

Watching them from my window brought back memories of my own past with Henrì; we were once just as enamoured. Lucian cares deeply for my daughter; that much is evident. I also know he suffered when she left him, not to mention the pain of losing his mother not long after. He’s consumed by a thirst for revenge, fueled by his seething wrath, and undoubtedly, he’s broken. Yet, he’s not beyond repair. I hold onto the hope that there’s still a chance for redemption in him. He wouldn’t have made an effort to cure me if he were as heartless as they say. In fact, I find myself grateful that he saved me from Russo’s clutches.

She was irritated that she cared; she was irritated that she could become so hurt by him, but most of all she was irritated that Lucius even had the guts to utter those words to her. What Laila understood was that Lucius did not regret what he did to her and could have done it to someone else if given the chance; it was what he said, so she wasn’t in the wrong to conclude it. The nerve he had to say he could have chosen better was the part of the statement that cemented itself in Laila’s mind; it wasn’t only a regret that he turned her into a wolf; it was also a regret that he ever met her, and for some strange reason, that hurt Laila.

“Tell me, Lucian, why should I believe you this time?” Aurora inhaled sharply. She knew this was coming, but it still made her chest tighten. Lucian met Carmela’s gaze without hesitation. “Because I love your daughter.” Carmela scoffed. “You loved her before too, didn’t you?” Lucian didn’t flinch. “I did.” His voice was steady. “And I made the worst mistake of my life by letting her go.” Carmela leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “And now you think you deserve another chance?”

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.

Not because it frightened me — though it did — but because I knew it was working. The Architect didn’t need to strike us with steel. They only needed to make us doubt one another. And already, cracks were showing. ELRIC'S POV We required clarification. I then returned to the ruins. Alone . I knew it was stupid. Risky. Perhaps there was more hidden beneath those stones, though, if the shard revealed visions of what lay ahead. Something that might clarify the extent of the Architect's actual influence. When I got there, the ruins were silent. Too silent. Not even the night-birds' usual chatter.