Chapter 33: Emotions Arising

Seeing Talon Aspen again, and in my home no less, feels like salt on the open wounds of an already unbearable day. But unlike Roman, who stands rigid and hostile beside me, I tuck my dislike for the crown prince beneath the perfect mask I’ve learned to wear. My smile is tight and practiced as I incline my head. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Talon.”

If he senses my distaste, he doesn’t acknowledge it. His lips curl into a half-smile as he tilts his head, gesturing to the open door. “Won’t you let me in?” he asks, with a tone that makes it sound more like an order than a request.

I step back, sweeping my arm toward the interior with polite precision. “Please, come in.”

Talon enters with that familiar swagger, his eyes sweeping over the room as though inspecting his property. I leave the door slightly ajar and silently pray that Kael has the sense to come home soon; he’s the only one who can handle his brother. Roman, still stationed by the entrance, wears a scowl that’s nearly engraved into his face, and I have to admit, it mirrors my own sentiments perfectly.

“Would you like something to drink?” I offer, attempting to regain some semblance of control. “Coffee? Wine?”

Ignoring me, Talon begins to prowl around the living room, his nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply. His gaze flickers over the shelves, the old, rarely-used TV, even a forgotten stack of books in the corner. Just when I think he might start opening drawers, he finally settles on the sofa with a gleam in his eyes that screams mischief.

I force myself to ask again, this time slower. “Coffee or wine?”

He raises an eyebrow, his tone dripping with disdain. “Coffee is for you weak humans… I’ll take wine.”

Dislike doesn’t begin to cover what I feel for this man. Every time I encounter Talon, there’s a hidden insult lurking in his words, a layer of contempt as thick as the smirk on his face. I march into the kitchen, grab a bottle of wine from the cellar, and place it before him with a barely restrained urge to shatter the glass against his smug, upturned lips.

“So,” I say with forced civility as he fills his glass, “what brings you here? Kael isn’t home yet—you knew that.”

Talon takes a languid sip, deliberately ignoring my question. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette case, opening it with a flick of his thumb. He extends it toward me. “Care for one?”

I shake my head sharply. “I don’t smoke.”

His smirk widens. “Too bad. I was hoping to share.” He lights one for himself, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke in Roman’s direction. Roman’s face twists in disgust, but Talon just laughs, a low, mocking sound that reverberates through the room. “What’s the matter, Russo? You look like you’d drive a dagger through my heart if given the chance. Be careful—might end up like your dear brother.”

Roman’s face remains passive, but I notice the subtle tightening of his jaw and the way his hands clench at his sides. The mention of his brother Alvin, imprisoned by the monarch, hangs in the air like a dark cloud, heavy and charged with unspoken resentment. The curiosity nags at me, though I push it aside.

I slip my hand into my pocket, hoping to grab my phone as an excuse to break the tension, only to remember I’d left it in the car. Perfect.

Talon’s attention shifts back to me, his gaze penetrating. “So, Lilac,” he drawls, eyes gleaming with malice, “how are you finding Lycania? Surprising you haven’t run back to Lyria yet. Or has my dear brother managed to make it worth your while?”

It’s clear he’s baiting me, looking for a reaction. I’ve dealt with people like him all my life—people who get their kicks from seeing others squirm. My stepmother and stepsister are cut from the same cloth, so I know exactly how to handle this. I offer a thin-lipped smile. “He’s my husband. Of course he’s making it worth my while.”

“Interesting.” He studies me with a renewed intensity. “Didn’t peg you for someone with such spirit. Shame you’re married to my brother instead of me.”

Revulsion claws its way up my throat, but I swallow it down. “Thankfully,” I reply coolly, my voice laced with steel.

Talon raises an eyebrow. “Thankful? You have no idea what you’re missing if you think being married to me wouldn’t be an upgrade. Do you even know how dangerous your husband is?”

I stiffen, his words catching me off guard. Dangerous? Kael’s been many things, but never dangerous—not with me, at least. Talon’s smirk grows, as if he’s sensing my sudden unease, reveling in it.

“At least he hasn’t killed me in my sleep,” I retort, though a seed of doubt takes root in my mind. “I think that’s enough.”

He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “You think Lycans are only dangerous when they kill? Oh, Lilac, there are many ways to be dangerous, and your husband is the very embodiment of that.”

Part of me screams not to ask, to end this conversation here and now. But I can’t stop myself. “What are you getting at?”

“Do you really want to know?” His eyes gleam with anticipation, daring me to say yes.

“Yes,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me.”

He leans back, taking another drag from his cigarette, savoring the moment. “Ever heard of a Moon Lycan?”

The words are unfamiliar, strange and ominous. “What’s that?” I ask, even though I have a sinking feeling I might regret it.

Talon’s smirk widens. “Ah, I thought as much.” He pauses, drawing out the silence, making me hang on his every word. “Moon Lycans are… a rare breed. Imagine a Lycan with the thirst of a vampire. They need blood, like the creatures on the eastern coast.”

My brows furrow, struggling to process his words. Lycans that feed on blood, like vampires? It sounds absurd, something out of a horror story. I want to dismiss it as one of Talon’s twisted jokes, but a part of me is rattled.

He watches my reaction with sadistic glee. “That’s the kind of Lycan your husband is, Lilac—a Moon Lykae, the only one of his kind.” His gaze sharpens, catching the flicker of disbelief in my eyes. “You know I’m not lying.”

My throat tightens. “You’re… making this up.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Believe what you want. But I think you know, deep down, that I’m telling the truth.”

I open my mouth to protest, but no words come. My mind spins, grasping for reason, logic, anything that could disprove his claim. The man I’ve married—a vampire Lycan hybrid? It’s absurd, and yet… why does a part of me feel that it could be true?

Talon puts out his cigarette in his wine glass, standing up with an air of finality. “Well, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Time to be off.”

He heads toward the door, and before I can stop myself, I call after him. “Wait!”

He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yes?”

“How… How can I know? How can I prove it?”

He smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own.” He winks, then slips out the door, leaving me in a whirlpool of confusion, fear, and doubt.

The door clicks shut, and I realize Roman has stepped closer, his face drawn with unease. “Prince Talon isn’t someone you should take seriously,” he says, though there’s an unmistakable tremor in his voice.

“What if he’s right?” I murmur. “Have you ever heard of a Moon Lycan?”

Roman shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Only in passing. They’re rare, myths, really… No one has ever actually encountered one.”

I nod, forcing myself to breathe. Don’t overthink it, I tell myself. Talon probably wanted to rattle me, to make me doubt Kael. But the question won’t leave me alone, buzzing at the back of my mind.

“Do you know where Professor Carla lives?” I ask, almost impulsively. Roman’s brow furrows, but he nods, understanding the silent plea in my voice. I need answers—before this fear takes root too deeply to ignore.