Lucie Herondale Novels & Stories

Squeaky groans and squeaks so much that Luc feared it will fall from the ceiling and slice her in her sleep but Squeaky did not get her, the Atlantic ocean beat Squeaky to it. There was a time that Lucinda was not Luc but Lucie. That was before she got admitted into the University, before she started wearing crop tops, mini skirts, lots of jewellery and nude makeup. It was before she started buying and hiding bottles of expensive alcoholic drinks in her wardrobe, before she started ignoring me and treated me like there was not a mere one year gap between our ages. It was before she met her soulmate, Joseph.

While Lucien was having his dinner, the young man felt that someone stopped in front of his table. He slowly raised his head to see who the person was. A young lady, who he thinks is still in her twenties, was looking at him straight in the eyes. “Yes, how may I help you, young lady?” He politely questioned while placing his spoon down. “Monsieur, may I know if you are Lucien Heroux, the fiance of the famous model, Mademoiselle Oceane Delisle?” The woman directly asked him.

His silhouette was etched into her bones, and yet his face remained hidden behind a fog she couldn’t lift. She remembered the way his voice wrapped around her name like a lullaby—Selene, he’d call her. Never Selena. Just Selene. Like she was someone worth guarding. And then something shifted. Her ghost self trembled, flickered—and in a matter of a blink, she already found herself being her younger self. No longer floating. No longer just watching buy now there beside him. That same man. She turned to him—not out of will, but memory—and her mouth moved on its own.

So I have to be on time for the meeting. —Okay, go, I love you, take care of yourself. "I love you too, see you," Luciana said before hanging up and immediately leaving for the company. She had arrived a few minutes before the meeting, and when she was in the hallway that went to the meeting room she heard crying, which was He was surprised, he followed the sound and found a small girl, beautiful, with black hair and waves, her eyes were brown and she had a beautiful mole near her nose on the left side of her face that was under her secretary's desk.

Claim her. But he couldn't. So he walked. And that’s when he caught it. The scent. Faint. Sweet. Her. It was like someone struck a match inside his chest. Lucien turned sharply, following the trail like a predator locked onto its prey. Through the back corridors, down the eastern stairs, into the lower courtyard— There she was. Alone, again. Aria stood by the garden well, pouring water into a basin, her hair tied back, moonlight gleaming off her pale skin.

“Yes, Meredith will need me to leave soon. And, honestly, it is time for me to go. I have given you all of the information that I can. There is just one more thing to do.” Selene turns to Lucille. The woman seems to look even frailer than she did at the beginning of the ceremony. Her once vibrant and plump features have become sunken and papery thin. Her hair seems to lost some of it’s luster and she is obviously having trouble catching her breath, though she hasn’t done anything but sit since we’ve walked into the room. Lucille nods her head. “I am ready, Mother. I want to see my mate again.”

Just that same impassive expression that felt like a blade to my chest. "We will hurt Agatha?" His voice finally came, firm and dark, carrying a weight of pain he didn't bother to mask. "Even though she doesn’t remember, we all know she still loves Lucien. No matter how many lifetimes she’s lived, no matter how many times she’s lost herself, she always finds her way back to him." Always him. Always Lucien.

Lucy-Anne had legs that stretched for miles and her long, brown wavy hair accentuated her oval face and brown eyes. Id give it to her, she was pretty. I hated to believe my eyes stuck on her like glue, But then her eyes met mine. Quickly i shifted my gaze from her, but i still caught the smirk that drew across her lips. “Yh right.” Lucas, despite Lucy-Annes long legs, he easily towered over her, So when his hand wrapped around her neck, and veins pulsating at the back of his palms, I felt a lump form in my throat.

She was across the room and her arms were around him before he could move toward her, and Lucien stepped back and turned to the fireplace and pressed one hand flat against its cold stone and stood there with his back to everyone and his head bowed, and Aurora was almost certain that he was crying for the first time in a very long time and had decided that the fireplace was the most appropriate witness available. She turned away. She walked to the far side of the room near the broken window and looked out into the dark and listened to the night and gave the room the time it needed. After a while, footsteps. Seraphine came to stand beside her. She was shorter than Aurora had expected — slight,

How had he kept this hidden from me for so long? “And the mother?” I asked, my voice low, the intrigue now burning hotter. “She was a maid, Felicity Lambert. She worked for Lucien’s parents. He fell in love with her, but she died during childbirth.” Felicity? I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Lucien, the almighty Giordano, falls for his maid. The girl was no doubt a beauty but there's no way I did have that idea that he would fall for her kind. The man who preached control and power, brought low by a woman far below his station. How fitting.