Chapter 115: Chapter 115

It shouldn’t have been surprising. I mean, he’s a thousand year old for goddess’s sake. And more. Who knows? And he wasn’t exactly the most pious in his younger years. He’s probably fucked more than half at Ebonheart at some point, considering his notoriety. But it hits me smack in the face anyway, stuttering my breath.

"Children? Like... A couple? Or a thousand?" The words scrape out of me, small and uncertain, as though saying them might make them less real.

"I am very... virile. " No elaboration. No name. No detail. Nothing.

Moon-fucking-Goddess---shit.

My lips part, but nothing comes out. There’s a strange ringing in my ears, drowning the ocean, the creak of the ship, even the sound of my own heartbeat. I feel like I’ve been dropped into ice. "And you didn’t think to mention that before?!"

He blinks at me. "I did."

"I’m pretty sure if you told me, I would fucking remember that there are hundreds of Luciens out there that I don’t know a thing about!"

He looks at me like I’m being crazy. Am I? Am I overreacting?

"I told you I was chained and used as a brooding mare in Silvermoor." His expression tightens. "What did you think that entailed?"

I start to relax, then feel horrible for even blowing up in the first place. I settle back beside him, shoulders brushing his arm in silent apology. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think--"

"It’s fine," he says and means it. He tips slightly and I sigh softly when he drops his head in my lap, silver locks teasing my skin here and there. "You mentioned earlier that there are conversations that need to be had between us. This is one of them. We’ll trade secrets , until there are no walls left between us."

I nod, gnawing on my bottom lip. And then, I let myself touch his hair, like it’s a normal thing to do. He sighs softly and leans in. "Most of my time being held prisoner was a blur, due to being heavily pumped with drugs. Years were spent and lost in my grief, and by the time I’d returned home and began to look into what became of the women I wasn’t cognizant enough to kill for touching me, I couldn’t find a thing. Names. Lives. Nothing. That is, until I led the first charge in the war. Retribution for my loss."

His eyes are dark with memories. "The enemy was strong. Unusually so. And it took me longer than I should’ve to realize the blood I was spilling on the battle-field was mine."

My hand stills where they stroke his hair, eyes widening with horror. He nudges my hand, silently telling me to continue, but I am frozen to where I sit.

I thought I’d begun to understand his hatred for our kind, but I didn’t. Not even close. It took a special kind of cruelty to breed a man and send him his sons to fight against, and kill.

At this point, I was simply done vying that there were innocents amongst the wolves, because what in the world...

"And if I didn’t kill them, they did so themselves," he adds. "In the years I was gone, they’d been trained into hard killers, brainwashed and taught that there was no honour in surrender. They were taught to fight and die fighting. No prisoners. So, often times than not, they’d slit their own throats before conversing with the devil they’d been taught I was. And those who didn’t were far too damaged in mind and spirit to be helped."

He takes in the rage and the tears welling in my eyes and smiles softly. "Of course I want children with you, Val. But it matters more to me that you want them with me. And that I have made the world a safer place for them to live in. I won’t repeat the mistakes I did in the past. I want to do it right this time."

I shake my head. "Calling the wrongs done to you ’mistakes’ is an injustice to you, Luke. You can’t always wear the blame on your shoulders." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ N()velFire.net

He exhales. "Ilya told me not to. Ilya warned me to ignore the call for that truce. If I’d charged against them then, the war would have been over centuries, and so many lives would not have been lost." He reaches up to caress my cheek. "This war is for them. But it is also for us. For our future. Because I will no longer be the man who sacrifices the people I love for the world. The world can go to shit for all I care."

There’s that word again. Love.

My mind rejects the word. Because it’s too heavy to dissect, coming from Lucien. And it’s too heavy an emotion to place on what I feel for him at the moment.

Today, I choose to love his ability to move on and forge ahead, regardless of everything that’s been thrown at him. And it’s enough to make me tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his cheek. "My turn," I whisper. "Sometimes, I fear you may be one of the best men I’ve ever met, under all of that cruel facade you wear."

He turns his cheek so that our lips touch. It’s like we can never really stop being in touch with each other, somehow. "Oh, but it’s not a façade, sweetheart." A pause. "Plus, I am the best man you’ve ever met."

I roll my eyes, pushing his shoulder, but he catches my wrist and yanks me into bed with him in one swift pull. I land on my side, curled up inside large arms. "I’ve spent a disturbing amount of time watching you sleep," he says thickly against my ear. "Does that make me a creep?"

"Yes," I hum, pressing deeper into him, ass flush against his groin. "But I quite like you that way."

Something hard presses into my ass instantly and I gasp, wiggling against him. His arms cage me in and he whispers, "You like me? Just... like?"

I feel the smile before I hear it. "You really want me to say it while you’re hard against me?"

His fingers tighten on my hip. "Say it anyway."

I arch against him, a shiver running down my spine as he sucks in a breath. "Fine," I breathe. "I more than like you. Happy now?"

"Not yet," he murmurs, lips tracing the shell of my ear. "But we’re getting there."

Then, I decide that I love the way he makes me feel giddy inside, both afraid and alive at the same time.

But there’s something dark looming in the air. Something I have come to learn is a sense of foreboding. In my life, I’ve rarely ever had a moment’s peace. And perhaps, it is because I’m not used to this. To this laid back moment of compassion and passion and ’not’ fighting. But I feel like something’s coming. In the way things always happen to tear us apart just when we take a significant step forward.

And maybe I should’ve kissed him a little harder. Maybe I should’ve explained what I felt in that moment. Maybe I shouldn’t have fought sleep and clutched him a little tighter. Or maybe I should’ve given in to that urge to ask him to run away from everything with me.

Because the next day, everything goes to hell.