Romans & histoires The Nine Eyes Of Lucien

His eyes went straight to me, pinned against the glass, dripping and exposed. His jaw creaked as he ground his teeth. He turned on his guards, his hand flying to the throat of the nearest man, slamming him against the wall. "TURN AROUND!" Lucian snarled, the sound vibrating in my very marrow. "EYES ON THE FLOOR OR I’LL GOUGE THEM OUT MYSELF! OUT! ALL OF YOU!" The guards scrambled, tripping over each other to exit. Wells stood in the doorway, his face the color of ash, his finger still hovering over the tablet.

Moonlight caught the edges of his hair; his eyes were shadowed, unreadable. Evelyn froze. For a heartbeat neither of them spoke. Then he said, quietly, “You shouldn’t move yet.” She laughed—soft, bitter. “You mean I shouldn’t see it.” His jaw tightened. “It’ll fade.” “It didn’t fade last time.” She met his gaze. “Tell me what you did.” Lucien’s eyes flickered—not guilt, not fear, something colder. “I kept you alive.” The silence stretched. Beyond the walls, the Valehart estate was waking—distant footsteps, murmured orders, the muted howl of a wolf carried by the morning wind. But here, in this narrow space, the world was suspended between truth and denial.

An obsidian knife, a silver-threaded scalpel, pair of bone pliers, branding iron, a glass vial of wolfsbane extract, and hammer. The door bursted open. Lupercus strolled in, dragging nine whimpering bodies like broken dolls behind him. They were soaked in their own filth, smeared with sweat and blood. Flies buzzed lazily around them, and maggots squirmed in open sores. "Alright, fuckers," he called out. "Take your seats. You..." he kicked Joe forward "get the middle one. Our guest of honor." They obeyed, trembling, whimpering, and stumbling over each other as they sank into their chairs.

“Lucien always comes when there’s an opportunity to ruin his brother.” As if summoned by the words, footsteps echoed through the alley. A tall man emerged from the darkness wearing a long black coat. His silver eyes glowed faintly beneath the hood covering his face. Lucien. Unlike Hevian’s regal appearance, Lucien carried himself like a blade hidden beneath silk… quiet, sharp, dangerous. Eshnu grinned. “There he is.” Lucien stopped several feet away. “You said you had information worth my time,” he said flatly.

His eyes flicked to Selena, specifically to the faint glowing yellow sigil blooming on her chest. Not visible to mortals, of course. Only to divine eyes. “She really is the successor,” he mused, grinning with just enough mischief to hint he knew way too much. Selena, still unaware she was being observed like the subject of a celestial scavenger hunt, finally succeeded in brewing what looked like suspiciously oily coffee. She took one sip and gagged. “This tastes like betrayal,” she muttered. Yin watched her with faint amusement, already reaching for his phone. “Gotta tell the wind god. The land god messed up big time.”

He mumbled softly, not giving himself the benefit of doubt at all but Lucien didn’t expect what came next. Her face shot up again, and she locked gazes with him, her eyes diverting quickly from him while he staggered back in shock. Striking him like lightning, Lucien cursed out loud, “No way!” The hair, the eyes… That bluish green orbs, shining ever so brightly in the chandelier lit room and again Lucien felt a slight punch to his chest, as he staggered back again. He didn’t want to believe it, no he wouldn’t believe it… But the truth was right in front of him, and he didn’t need any more atom of convincing.

I realised it came from Lucien, who was standing in front of me. I could no longer see the woman but the sound of her heel stopped. She walked past Lucien to stand in front of us. Her eyes fell on me first, she looked at me from head to toe before looking at Lucien. "Interesting," her voice was silky, almost in a whisper, but still clearly audible. I felt something strange. Lucien was silent but his eyes were speaking. His eyes were no longer the same shade of black, the iris glowed with the silver-blue underneath.

Lucien's bloodthirsty eyes tighten. He walks up to Nina with a sneer. Nina is frightened by his ghostly eyes. She tries desperately to push his hand away. "What are you doing!" Lucien sneers, "do what men and women do!" His low voice is like the devil from hell. "Nina, you said I am lewd. Today I'll let you know what's real lewdness!" "Don't touch me! You devil!" Nina responds. Lucien's bloodthirsty eyes make her tremble, and she knows that she is a lamb to be slaughtered!

The lower sanctum of Sulvenis was suffused with a low, uneasy glow. Candles lined the stone walls, their flames trembling as if the shadows themselves had a heartbeat. Lucien lay upon a dais of ancient oak, his chest rising and falling shallowly beneath the effects of the venom that had coursed through his veins. His golden eyes, usually so bright and unyielding, were shuttered behind a veil of unconsciousness.

The relic pulsed brightly again before fading as though satisfied with its work. And then… A slow clap from behind her. The scent of burning pine filled her nostrils, and her heart nearly stopped. Lucien. She whirled, claws extended, and there, before her, stood Lucien, his eyes were wrong, empty, and cold. No longer wearing Marcus’s stolen face, no longer hiding in shadows. Just Lucien, golden-eyed and smiling like a serpent. “Did you really think you could take it and leave?” he said, voice silky, taunting. “You of all people should know… nothing stays buried.”