Novel & Cerita Lucien Grey

Lucifer sighed again. "I can't unlock it because I do not have the key". He said plainly. "Well we take the key from whoever has it. Kill them if we have to even". Gadreel said out of zeal. He would not fail Lucifer again. "That's the problem. I do not know who has the key". ***

I exclaim. “You don’t know?” he’s even more confused than I am. “Oh god, Percy. If you didn’t do this then whoever did is about to fuck up your entire life.” “Zion, for god’s sake. Just tell me. You’re killing me.” “Lucian was sent to the hospital with severe damages to his legs, arms, and fucking face!! he was viciously attacked last night, injected with wolfsbane that prevented him from shifting. The photos are bad. He’s unconscious. Fighting for his fucking life. If he dies you’re going down for murder.”

Not angry. Just calm. Too calm. Rain hits the tall glass windows behind Adrian’s desk. The city looks blurred tonight. Gray and silver and sharp edges. The office lights are low, casting shadows across Lucien’s face. He looks younger in this light. Softer. But Adrian knows better. Lucien Moreau has never been soft. Adrian leans back in his chair slowly. “You didn’t read it.” “I did,” Lucien replies. “You skimmed it.” Lucien lifts one shoulder. “I trust you.”

Lucius is going to get hurt by the fact that he isn't as strong as Stephen is. My face turned pale as I stared at those who were seated close to the ring, and my eyes landed on that of Alpha Aiden, who has a smirk on his face. He stared at me with a smile, which I found creepy. His eyes pierced through mine, and he looked at me like he could read through me. I could feel goosebumps form on my body. He pointed his hand at Lucius and made a gesture with his hands, which he made like he wanted to cut his head off.

The room went deathly silent. Lucien, who had been “playing” with a toy car, froze. For a split second, his steel-gray eyes locked onto mine sharp, assessing, and completely lucid. Not the childish gaze. The real one. The wolf. Then the mask snapped back into place so fast it made my head spin. “Pretty Mummy is smart!” he chirped, voice high and sweet, but his fingers brushed mine under the table with deliberate pressure warm, steady, approving. “Lucien likes to be smart.”

Lucia felt a pang of embarrassment. "I just… being ‘Mrs. Grayson’ feels like too much. Everyone knows you’ve never had a wife—suddenly announcing you’re married will raise so many questions." "That’s my problem, not yours—don’t worry about it. But if you have ideas for how to get back at Lucas and his mistress, it’s up to you. Just remember this, Lucia: the best way to get revenge on my worthless nephew is to stand by me as my wife. Lucas is only after my company and everything I own. I have the money, power, and influence to turn his life upside down and teach him a lesson he’ll never forget."

I push her playfully toward Fallon and mutter, “You need to get a handle on my sister, Fallon.” Fallon wraps his arm around her shoulder and grins, “I try, but she’s quite a handful.” Lana lightly punches his tight stomach while giving me a feigned glare, “Fallon knows better than to say anything, sis.” Lucifer stops beside us and waves his mobile. “I texted Michael and asked him if he would join us. Fate’s can be cruel creatures when crossed.” Bree’s brow furrows. “Why is that? Aren’t they like Oracles or seers?”

The third one yelled at his brother's experiment. "Fuck! Someone's coming!" Lucien's sharp gasp flowed through the air and Panic as he cursed. "Who the hell is that?" Gray gritted his teeth and tried to have a peek but his brother's body flew and landed before him. "Damn!! Sebastian!" He growled and my heart leaped in confusion and excitement. My body was in excruciating pain but I couldn't miss the fear and dread in Gray's eyes. Well, Lucien disappeared as I couldn't find a trace of him and his other brother suffered blows and injuries from someone who bent low to assault him.

My throat dries. Lucien moves between the desks now, eyes shifting, taking stock. “You’ll notice the powerless often see the clearest. They learn how to read the room. How to survive. Sometimes they bend power without anyone noticing—until it’s too late.” He passes my row. Doesn’t stop. Doesn’t look. Returns to the board. “This,” he continues, tapping the board once, “is a list of lovers.” He writes four names in quick succession: Damon Salvatore. Edward Cullen.