Elian was standing by the side of Lucien’s washroom, hands shaking as the weight of the blade guiltily weighed on him.
He had picked the blade from one of Lucien’s drawers in a fit of heartbreak and rage.
He felt discarded.
He could swear that Lucien did not love Rowena, so why was he going ahead with that sham of an engagement? Why was he throwing away what they’d found?
He knew he was being irrational, but he could not pretend anymore; he wanted Lucien for himself. No matter how shameful it was to admit, that was what he wanted.
However, he understood that Lucien would never look at him like he wanted Lucien to look at him, so he had no other choice than to do as his mother had asked.
He was going to kill Lucien, right there, right then. And nothing was going to change his mind.
After all, he was avenging his father... and himself.
He did not care what happened to him; from the looks of it, he was already dying. There was no need to think ahead for the future. It all ended tonight.
His breathing was getting labored with every ticking second, his legs weakening and trembling both from anger and exhaustion. But he stayed put, waiting for the Duke to come out of his washroom.
The door suddenly opened and Lucien walked out of the washroom, a silk, black robe adorning his masculine body, his toned chest exposed.
He had only taken a step when he saw the flash of the blade in front of his face.
Lucien paused, not looking one bit fazed by the threat in front of him.
Elian’s hands were shaking as he held the blade out, his eyes blinking away his tears to clear his blurring vision. He moved the blade closer, pointing it right at Lucien’s exposed chest, his blue eyes locking intently on Lucien’s calm, green eyes.
"What are you doing?" Lucien asked flatly, but his eyes were starting to darken in a clear warning.
Elian sniffled, biting his lower lip for a moment, "I’m going to kill you... I should have done it a long time ago," he murmured shakily, his chest heaving.
Lucien blinked slowly, taking in the way Elian looked like he was about to pass out at any moment. He wanted to ask Elian to stop this madness and go lie down, but then, he recalled his father, and his resolve hardened.
Only a fool would show kindness to a man who had clearly stated their intent on killing them. And he was no fool.
"I was right..." Lucien chuckled darkly, "A traitor’s son is also a traitor..." he said in a deep, cold tone.
Elian gulped, his arms starting to ache due to the prolonged stretching, but he could not give up now... there was no going back from here. Lucien would have him sent back to the dungeon the moment he dropped the blade; he was doomed either way.
"Do it," Lucien stepped forward, pressing his chest onto the pointy, sharp tip of the blade.
Elian’s eyes widened as he gasped, taking in the tiny trail of blood that had trailed down Lucien’s smooth chest from his blade.
He staggered backward, hands lowering beside him, "What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly, staring at the fresh blood on Lucien’s chest.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t harm Lucien; seeing him bleed was like watching himself bleed. He couldn’t do it!
"You’re not only pathetic, but a coward, too," Lucien murmured, stepping toward Elian.
"Kill me now, or return to the dungeon with your pathetic mother—"
"My mother is not pathetic!" Elian snapped, holding out the blade once more, his eyes determined.
Lucien smirked, covering the space between them and slowly reaching for Elian’s wrist. "She is... and so are you." He easily plucked the knife from Elian’s hand.
Elian inhaled deeply, looking away in defeat. He had failed.
"Give me one reason why I should not end your life right now," Lucien placed the flat side of the cold blade on Elian’s chin, tilting his head up.
Elian froze, his pulse racing as he felt the blade under his chin. He might not have the heart to kill Lucien, but Lucien would do it in the blink of an eye, and that realization broke him even further.
"Answer me, Elian. You dared to hold a blade to my face... you forget your place so easily," he murmured, pressing the blade harder on Elian’s skin.
Elian gasped, feeling the sharp edge bite into his skin.
"What... what did I do wrong, Lucien?" he whispered, tears slowly running down his cheeks, "Why are you acting this way—"
"Answer my question!" Lucien growled, yanking Elian’s arm closer until he was leaning toward him, the sharp blade now pressing on Elian’s throat.
"Lucien, please...." Elian sobbed.
Lucien was angry; he hated the way Elian’s annoying words reached right inside him no matter how hard he tried to block them out. He needed to put an end to this.
"You have five minutes to speak for your life, Elian... I am serious," he whispered.
Elian shuddered, nodding slowly, "Fine," he sniffled, lifting his hands to clutch Lucien’s silk robe.
Lucien’s eyes flashed in warning, but he made no move to push Elian away. He had given him five minutes to live; he would honor his words.
"I hate you... I hate you so much," Elian chuckled dryly, locking his teary gaze with Lucien’s, "I want to kill you every second... to watch the life drain out of your eyes." He licked his dry, pale lips, blinking to steady his gaze.
Lucien listened, his chest tightening with each hateful word Elian spat, but it was good. What else was he expecting the man to say when he treated him like shit and was practically holding a blade to his throat?
"That’s what I used to believe..." Elian muttered, his hand reaching up to caress the side of Lucien’s face.
"Get your hands off me—"
"Five minutes, Lucien. Let me live my last moments like a dream... please..." he said quietly, his thumb stroking Lucien’s chin.
Lucien gritted his teeth.
Last moments?
That hit harder than a brick to the nose.
And to crown his ache, he was the one with the adequate power, title... he was the judge of Elian’s life, and he had chosen to end it...
Who was really the pathetic coward between them?
"This is not who you are, Lucien... you’re hurting, just like I am—"
"Get out," Lucien commanded, shoving Elian away and turning away.
Elian staggered, almost falling.
He coughed, tiny blood spurts escaping his lips. He touched his fingers to his lips and smiled... he was really dying; what was there to hold back?
Lucien heard Elian’s footsteps getting closer and closer and his walls started to crumble. He was in so much pain that he felt his heart would explode, and he knew that Elian might just be the only person to soothe that ache.
"You never tell me anything about you," Elian whispered behind Lucien, trailing his fingers from Lucien’s broad shoulder and down his arm.
"Can you let me in... can you let me see you? We can fight our demons together—"
"Enough!" Lucien pulled his hand away just as Elian was about to touch his palm.
He turned, glaring at Elian. The moment he saw the blood on Elian’s lips, his heart skipped and the blade fell from his hands, clattering onto the floor.
"Are you crazy?" he asked, balling his fists.
Elian chuckled, "Perhaps, I am... if not..." He covered the space between them but never touched Lucien, their breaths just mixed heavily, eyes darkening with lust and anger, "If not... tell me why I fell for you," he whispered.
Lucien stilled, his heart instantly pausing for longer than three seconds before it rocketed in his chest; a warm flush of tingles traveled with speed down his spine, his head almost spinning with dizziness.
He was losing his breath, his chest heaving faster and faster.
He could not believe it... he didn’t want to believe it.
"Don’t be stupid, Elian," he said huskily.
Elian shook his head, "It’s too late... I can’t stop now. I lo—"
"Shut up!" Lucien was frantic, scared, even.
He picked the blade up, holding it out to Elian, "If you utter something stupid, I’ll kill you and I mean it," he threatened, his voice shaking.
Elian smiled softly, tilting his throat for the blade, "I’m dying already... have mercy and end it faster," he replied hoarsely.
"What is wrong with you?!" Lucien snapped, catching Elian’s collar in anger, "Answer me!" he breathed harshly.
Elian gulped, "I need the man from the cabin—"
"He’s gone. Dead," Lucien’s voice trembled.
Elian shook his head, "No. He’s right here..." He placed his hand flat on Lucien’s beating chest, "Please, I want the man with no titles... just Lucien... my Lucien—"
"I am not yours," he murmured in Elian’s face, breathing hard.
"I want to be yours, Lucien... I want you to be mine. Don’t marry Rowena; she can’t make you happy... she’s not fit for you—"
Lucien chuckled, "And you are?" he mocked.
Elian sighed, pressing his forehead against Lucien’s chest, "I love you, Lucien... I shouldn’t, but I do."
Lucien was about to refute that disarming proclamation when Elian suddenly went limp in his arms.
His eyes widened in horror as he realized Elian had collapsed. His chest was still racing with Elian’s last words, but he pushed them away at that moment.
Without screaming or shouting, he lifted Elian into his arms and carried him out of his chamber.
He could not let him die... he never wanted him dead.
He was the pathetic coward; he was the loser. A man who cannot own his own feelings and hides behind a cold mask. He wasn’t even deserving of Elian.
Rowena was his Karma... a loveless marriage filled with plots and secrets.
He would never be selfish enough to lock Elian with him; Elian deserved better, and it wasn’t him.
"Your Grace!" Finn gasped as he saw Elian being carried away by Lucien.
Without permission, he followed Lucien, worried and scared for his friend.
Lucien kicked open the infirmary door and barged inside, heading straight to Elian’s bed.
"What the fuck have you done to him?!" Soren asked, standing behind Lucien, who was laying an unconscious Elian down.
Slowly, Lucien turned, eyes blazing with hurt and fury at himself. He clutched Soren’s shirt, glaring at him.
"Make sure he lives... or you die." With that, he stormed out of the infirmary, heading toward the orchard.
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