The heavy, Iron doors creaked open as Celeste stepped into Lucian’s private chamber. The air was cool and carried the scent of old parchment and incense, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood. Shadows danced along the walls, cast by the soft glow of the large, wrought-iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling, its dim lightbulbs flickering slightly, casting eerie patterns across the room. At the far end of the chamber, seated on a large, ornate chair that resembled a throne, was Lucian looking regal as ever.
He didn’t rise when he saw her enter. He didn’t need to. His presence alone filled the space, making her pulse quicken, even as a part of her recoiled. After spending a week in the dungeons at his command, she had no choice but to swallow the tremor that ran through her body as she approached.
"Celeste," he purred, his voice smooth, dark, and dangerously inviting. "I hope you’ve brought me good news."
Celeste lowered her eyes briefly, trying to steady her racing heart. She had been careful, meticulous in her gathering of information. She had done what he asked, and more. This time, she wouldn’t fail him.
"I have," she said softly, her voice steady despite the way her body ached with the memory of his last punishment. "I’ve learned something... useful."
Lucian’s gaze remained fixed on her, cold and predatory, as if he were already calculating the worth of her words before she even spoke them. It sent a shiver down her spine.
"Elena," Celeste began, "has bonded with the artifact. Strongly. There may be a way to manipulate the bond... to use it to make her activate some of its powers."
Lucian’s expression didn’t shift, but a gleam of interest sparked in his dark eyes. "Go on."
Celeste nodded, taking a breath. "The bond is deepening. It’s still unstable, but with the help of our new allies, we can push her toward activating it—perhaps without her even knowing."
"Interesting," Lucian mused, his lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. "What else?"
"There’s more," Celeste continued, her throat tightening as she prepared to reveal the next piece of information. "Elena... she has a brother. His name is David. He’s part of the Watchers."
Lucian’s eyes darkened at the mention of the Watchers, but Celeste pressed on. "They’ve been working together. David knows about the bond, though I don’t believe he fully understands its significance yet."
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Lucian leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest of his throne. "David. A brother." His voice was almost contemplative, like a predator considering its prey. "And where are they now?"
"Elena is hiding at Arthur’s estate," Celeste said quickly. "She’s with Theo."
At the mention of Arthur, Lucian’s expression flickered with disdain. "Arthur. Still playing the noble guardian." He scoffed softly, "We’ll have to find a way to separate them."
“I already have a plan.” She said unable to contain the small smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Lucian raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “And what of the artifact? Are they aware of its full power?”
"No," Celeste assured him. "They know nothing. They’re focused on trying to break the bond."
Lucian smiled a slow, cruel smile that made Celeste’s pulse race. "Good. Very good."
He stood then, unfolding himself from the throne-like chair with a fluid grace that sent a wave of apprehension through her. He stepped towards her, his eyes never leaving hers as he approached. Each step he took made the air between them feel heavier, thicker, until it seemed to press against her skin like the weight of chains. For a moment, fear flicked across her features, the memory of the torment from the dungeon still fresh in her mind.
"We will make our move soon," Lucian murmured, his voice a low, almost sensual hum. "The time is coming. But for now..." He stopped in front of her, his tall frame towering over her smaller one. His gaze locked onto hers, pinning her in place. "You’ve done well, Celeste. I am pleased."
Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t help the way her pulse quickened under his intense scrutiny. He stood so close now that she could feel the coolness of his skin, could smell the faint scent of blood on him. Memories from long ago flooded her mind—the first time she had laid eyes on him. He had been a lord then, powerful and seductive, and she had fallen for him so completely.
For a fleeting moment, Celeste saw that man again—the one who had turned her, who had whispered promises of eternity into her ear. But that man, if he had ever existed, had long since vanished, replaced by the monster who stood before her now. And yet, some part of her, some small, fractured part, still longed for his approval, still craved the touch of the man she had once loved.
Lucian’s eyes darkened as he seemed to read her thoughts, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. He reached out, tracing a single, cold finger along the side of her neck. She shivered.
"If you want me to touch you," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "you’ll have to beg."
Celeste swallowed hard, shame and anger warred inside her. She had been royalty once. But now... now she was here, standing before him, powerless, preparing to beg for whatever shred of affection he might be willing to give. He knew it too—he always knew.
Celeste closed her eyes, trying to steel herself against the humiliation that clawed at her insides. She might have been strong and proud once but she was his now, and no amount of time, no amount of torture, could ever sever that twisted bond between them. She hated him, but a part of her still yearned for his presence, still sought out the love she knew he would never really give her.
Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling as it escaped her lips. "Please."