Lucian Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Lucian stepped back inside the ballroom with the taste of cold air still in his mouth. The locket had bought him a night. He meant to spend the rest of it out of sight. He cut along the wall toward a servant's door and never reached it. A hand closed on his elbow. White hair, purple eyes, a smile he had learned to hate months ago. "Lucian," said Kieran Thornfall. "You walked past me twice. Rude." Lucian tried to pull free. The fae prince tightened his grip and leaned close enough for the guests nearby to notice. "I've been drinking," Kieran said, pleasant. "Ask me what I've been telling people. Ask me which girl in the red gown I stopped on the stairs. The one with the locket. I told her a story about you. She listened." Lucian's stomach dropped. "You didn't." "Not yet. But I will. Unless we talk." Lucian smiled for the room. He steered Kieran through the side arch and out across the lawn, one hand locked on the back of his neck. He aimed for the pavilion at the end of the garden path. Lanterns hung from its arches. Vines climbed the posts. It was far enough from the music. He did not see Elena at the tall window as he passed. She saw him. She watched him drag a beautiful stranger by the collar into the dark, and her hand rose to the locket at her throat. She did not know what she felt. Disappointment, first. Then something sharper. She followed as far as the terrace and stopped there, hidden behind a column, watching. Inside the pavilion, Lucian shoved Kieran against a post. "Say what you want." "An apology," Kieran said. "On your knees. In writing. I want the last year of my life back, Lucian. You took it for sport." "I can't give you that." "Then I'll take the girl instead." Lucian moved fast. He pressed his palm flat against Kieran's forehead. He had done this to Elena once. He knew the shape of it. He pushed, and felt the fae's memory soften like wet paper under his hand. Names first. Then the ball. Then Lucian's face. Kieran's purple eyes went glassy. His mouth opened around a word he no longer owned. Lucian let go. Kieran slid down the post and sat on the pavilion floor, blinking at his own hands. "Go home," Lucian said. "You came to the wrong ball." He turned and saw Xavier at the pavilion steps. His brother's jaw was set. He had watched all of it. He did not look shocked. He looked sick of him. "That's twice this month," Xavier said. "You said you'd stop." "He was going to tell her." "So you keep her by breaking someone else's head open." Behind Xavier, on the terrace, a red gown moved back into the light. Elena had seen enough. She turned and went inside without looking back.