The Nine Eyes Of Lucien Novels & Stories

Those cold, piercing eyes always had a way of making me nervous, and just as I was about to look away, Dravena’s voice slid through my mind again. “Don’t look away,” she purred softly. “Keep your eyes on him. Be submissive… but don’t let him think you’re afraid.” Without hesitation, I obeyed, forcing myself to lock my gaze on Lucien. My bottom lip caught between my teeth as I slid my hands over his pants, unzipping them slowly and letting them fall. My fingers brushed against his briefs, fumbling slightly before I pulled them down, his hard, throbbing dick sprang free, smacking lightly against my face, grazing my lips and the bridge of my nose.

In a swift and brutal motion, he scooped out one of Josiah's eyes from its socket using his index and middle finger. Josiah crashed to the floor, his hand pressing against his bleeding eye socket, unleashing a piercing shriek that echoed through the air. Lucian casually tossed Josiah's eyeball onto his lap, casting a disdainful glance at the crumpled figure before him. "I hope you'll remember this as a lesson to keep your eyes to yourself," Lucian scorned. "Now, I suggest you use your remaining eye to find someone capable of tending to that wound, unless you wish to bleed to your demise."

Chapter 11 – Red Eyes in the Dark Aria’s breath snagged in her throat. Lucien filled the doorway like a shadow made flesh, his crimson eyes gleaming with a hunger that set her insides quaking. The lamplight flickered against him, casting his sharp features into alternating planes of gold and shadow. He didn’t rush toward her—he didn’t need to. His presence alone suffocated the air, heavy, inescapable, pressing down until every shallow breath felt stolen.

And from the center of the army— He rose. Lucien. Clad in ash-black armor, his eyes burned red with eldritch power. His face, once handsome, was twisted now—still Celeste’s kin, but changed by darkness. His mouth curled into a cruel grin as he spotted the flame. “Lyra,” he called out across the void, his voice both echoing and growling. “You’ve come to die again.” She stepped forward. “No,” she called back. “I’ve come to finish what your sister couldn’t.”

He spoke into my ears. I closed my eyes and tried to fight him off in my head but couldn’t. He didn’t wait for my permission. He sat down close to me. My guards noticed and I mind-linked them to stay put. I turned to see the most beautiful hazel eyes I had ever seen. They reminded me of Alora. Not that I would ever admit to her that she had beautiful eyes. “Lucien” he purred, stretching out his hands for a handshake. “I’ll pass”

"And what a lovely Luna she is." Neal moved to stand beside Noah. "Get out, Lucien. This is a sacred ceremony." "But I come bearing gifts!" Lucien said, spreading his hands wide. He looked around the room, his gaze moving over the nervous pack members. "I merely wanted to see the woman who has both Whitemore brothers wrapped around her little finger." His eyes narrowed on the marks on my neck. "Two mating marks? How... unusual." The pack members began to murmur nervously. I could feel their fear.

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.

A loud gasp escaped my throat as my head collided against the plaster. My eyes snapped up at him. Lucien. He looked like a man possessed. His charcoal-grey suit was rumpled, his tie was gone, and his hair usually so perfectly styled was a mess. But it was his eyes that terrified me. His eyes weren’t just red with anger, they were blazing with humiliation. His jaw was locked so tightly a muscle ticked near his temple. I could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. He caged me in between his arms, looking down at me as if he wanted to kill me right here and now. His eyes moved down my body as his hot breath fanned my face.

“An invitation.” She didn’t ask what it meant. She already knew. Lucien finally met her gaze. “Before we go in… there’s something you should know.” Nine Years Ago Lucien had been away. A rare thing. A summit in Montenegro. Negotiations that only the heir could broker. He was still learning then—how to smile without showing teeth, how to weigh trust without tipping into paranoia. Back then, he thought monsters had faces. He didn’t understand yet that the most dangerous ones wore perfume and whispered love like it was a weapon.