Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

AUTHOR’s POV

A short while after Elias left, Lucien sank into his couch, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping idly against the armrest.

He was waiting.

The scent had reached him long before its owner stepped foot in his domain. Familiar but unwelcome. And not someone he wanted Elias anywhere near for whatever reason he had.

At least, not yet.

His brows furrowed as he replayed how he had dismissed his boy. The sharpness in his tone, the way Elias had looked at him before leaving—stubborn, defiant. A lesser being would have cowered. But Elias?

He glared back.

Lucien exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.

How had it come to this?

He had never concerned himself with another’s feelings. He had no patience for the weak, no tolerance for the foolish. And yet, the moment he laid eyes on Elias, something in him had begun to unravel.

There was something about him.

His blood.

That intoxicating, floral scent wrapped around Lucien like a curse he would never break.

He had fucked countless lovers, men and women alike, and take pleasure in their blood offerings—but none had ever affected him like this. None had ever left him on edge, craving, spiraling into obsession.

And yet, he couldn't shake the one undeniable truth.

Elias was human.

A species he despised. A species he had sworn to break.

But he needed him.

That alone was enough to him furious.

A slow, deliberate knock echoed through the chamber.

“Enter.”

The door creaked open, revealing an old am with stark white hair and an unreadable expression. He stepped inside, his eye sweeping the room before they landed on Lucien.

The scent of incense and old magic clung to his robes.

Lucien watched in silence as the man sniffed the air, his lips twitching as if catching something distasteful. Without a word, he settled into the chair across from the king.

Lucien's gaze darkened. “Priest.”

Cain bowed his head slightly. “It reached my ears that you have found the blood.”

Lucien’s fingers stopped tapping. “I found the one who carries it.”

The correction was sharp and deliberate.

It was a warning.

Cain’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile, his fangs barely visible.

“I would have expected His Majesty to inform me the moment he secured the human.”

Silence.

Lucien leaned back, expression unreadable. Outside, the sky had darkened, and it came with an unsettling feeling—Elias was no longer within his walls.

He has sent three guards to escort him, but the thought of Elias slipping away, leaving his domain, stirred something dangerously possessive in him.

“Lucien.”

Cain’s voice cut through his thoughts. It was a mistake.

Lucien's gaze snapped back to him, ice-cold and piercing.

“Do I need to remind you how to address me?”

Cain stiffened before bowing low. “Forgive me, your Majesty. You seem…preoccupied.”

Lucien exhaled slowly, forcing the irritation from his tone.

“Now that you’ve heard of him, I assume you came here with something useful.”

Cain lifted his head, his voice dropping to something more cautious.

“I fear I have not been able to see anything. Are you certain about him?”

Lucien’s fingers curled against the armrest. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“You question my certainty?” his voice was quiet, dangerous. “I tasted his blood. It is unlike any other.”

Cain hesitated before speaking. “May I examine it?”

Lucien's eyes flashed crimson.

“No.”

The word was sharp. Final. It carried the weight of a threat.

Even though Lucien held Cain in high regard, the mere suggestion made his blood boil. Did the priest expect him to cut Elias just to satisfy his curiosity?

Unacceptable.

Lucien's voice dropped to something deadly. “You will not touch him.”

Cain took a measured breath. “Your Majesty, I must advise caution. His blood may be different, but that does not mean—”

Lucien's glare sharpened. “You told me I would find the blood among humans. That I would know him by his scent, by the way, his blood reacts to mine. Have you forgotten?”

The priest bowed his head. “No, Your Majesty. But I have seen nothing in my visions. It concerns me.”

Lucien let out a cold chuckle, low and humorless.

“You fear a mere human?”

Cain didn't answer.

Lucien stood, taking slow and deliberate steps toward him.

“You will investigate further,” he allowed. “But you wi not lay a single hand on him.”

Cain nodded, though his expression remained unreadable.

“Understood, Your Majesty. I may still need to see him up close.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched. The thought of Cain’s eyes on Elias—calculating, analyzing—stirred something territorial in him.

He hated this.

Hated that Elias had become something he had to protect.

“Fine,” Lucien said finally, waving him off. “Be back by dawn.”

Cain bowed in satisfaction. “As you command.”

The moment the priest stepped out, Lucien exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark locks.

Something was wrong.

For years, he and Cain had hunted for the human with the golden blood, the one who could undo centuries of agony. And now that he had finally found him, the priest hesitated.

Lucien scrawled.

There was more to this. He could feel it.

But no matter what it was, one thing remained unchanged.

Elias was his.

And no one, not even fate itself, would take him away.