Chapter 33

Lucien

No matter how much I tried not to think about it, Olivia’s words refused to leave my mind. The possibility that someone else was after my life, I mean—it wasn’t that far-fetched if I thought about it. I’d angered a lot of people in my younger years, especially when the Devil sobriquet that had been given to me still held weight in causing werewolves fear.

But to have someone actively make moves to get rid of me by helping Mason? It was a lot to take in.

Even as I stared at Mason sitting on the cold ground with his head bowed and his hands chained, I still couldn’t believe it. It had taken me a few hours to gather my wits around me to finally come here. It was a weird situation, no matter the angle from which I looked at it. Contrary to what he believed, I wasn’t enjoying this. I’d tried not to let things come to this point, but he hadn’t really left me any choice.

“Unchain him,” I ordered to the lone man in the cell. I didn’t have it in me to look upon him with him looking so defeated.

The chains came off and, after signaling to the man to leave, I waited as Mason flexed his wrists.

“Trust me plenty, don’t you?” he snorted, finally meeting my eyes. I saw the anger, the hatred swirling in his orbs. “How typical.”

I gave him a snort back. “No, I trust me to put you down if need be.”

“Ah. Of course you do.” He smacked his lips, adjusting so his back was against the wall and one elbow was resting on a raised knee. “Get on with it. I’m sure you don’t have all day.”

I knew what he was doing: trying to piss me off. This was Mason, so it wasn’t anything atypical. The circumstances had changed and I was in charge now; nothing was going to deter me from finding his partner.

“Where have you been?” I decided to start slow then sprint into a run. If I pushed too greatly, Mason would figure me out and then there would be no getting him to talk.

He raised one full eyebrow. “What’s it to you?”

I expected that. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Playing big brother now, are you?” A chuckle. “A bit too late for that, don’t you think?”

It might have been working because I was beginning to feel agitated. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to be calm. “Why were you trying to break into my study?”

Mason shrugged. “Who knows. I missed it.”

“Fucking hell, Mason!” I thundered. “Don’t you see I’m trying to help you?”

“By keeping me locked up? Some help that is.”

“You’ve been trying to kill me. Was I supposed to sit back and wait for death?”

He leaned forward with a hard expression, the only indication that he was angry since we started speaking. “I have made not one attempt on your life since you threw me out. Not one.”

I opened my mouth to speak, then shut it. That was not what I expected. But I thought… It had been obvious, had it not? He was angry father had left him nothing and killing me was the only way to get it. Right?

“I thought…” I drifted off, my mind reeling. Was there any truth to his words? Had I really misjudged him?

“Of course you thought it was me,” he scoffed. “Mason, the bitter sibling. I mean, what else am I good for if not being the villain in your story? Why else would I keep coming back to my own father’s house if not to kill my brother?”

“Then why have you been in hiding ever since?” I inquired, refusing to let him guilt-trip me. Regardless of what he was saying, he had been shady. He’d tried to steal… only he hadn’t really tried. I’d handed him the inheritance on a platter when I’d decided to leave.

And then I’d come back and thrown him out.

“Right from when we were kids, you have taken everything from me. Father’s love, his time. You were even his favorite. You got it all even when you didn’t ask for it—the women, the attention, his love. But me, he completely ignored me. I even lived with the nanny. Never once did he come to see me or check up on me. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t even know my name. And then he gave you everything he had, almost like he’d forgotten he had another son. I was just another clause in his fucking will.” He laughed bitterly and, for the first time, I began to understand his anger. “I will never have anything for you in my heart but hatred, Lucien. I hate you.”

I blinked, listening to his words. They tugged at my heartstrings. I’d never thought anything of our father’s attention towards me other than he’d wanted to make life difficult for me. The lessons he’d so ferociously given, the strict attention he’d paid me, the anger and viciousness he’d taught me, none of it had appealed to me at all. To think that Mason had wanted all of that but had never gotten it?

“I didn’t know,” I told him soberly.

He tore his gaze away from me, but not before I saw how red his eyes had gotten. It occurred to me that everything that had gone wrong between us had been Marcus’ fault. The man had chosen favorites between his sons and that action had ultimately led to years of animosity.

If things had been different, would Mason and I have been closer?

“It wasn’t my fault, Mason. I had no idea this was happening. We were kids.”

“You never cared about me. Not once. I daresay if you had, you would’ve noticed how little Mason barely ate breakfast with you and father.”

I refused to feel bad. It had not been my fault. We were both victims in this story. “Who’s helping you, Mason? I need to know.”

He met my eyes then and I almost winced at the hardness of his gaze. “Is that all you care about? Yourself?”

"Myself? I have a fucking family to protect! I have a child to take care of, for fuck's sake.”

“Fuck you and your child,” he spat. Actually spat at the ground where I stood.

Massaging my temple with my index and middle fingers, I shut my eyes; I had to keep my anger in check. This entire conversation had gone in an entirely different direction from what I’d originally expected. I didn’t know how much of it I could take. “You were seen in a dark well, being held prisoner,” I said. “Who was it?”

There was surprise in his gaze for a second before it disappeared. Then came a snort. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He was protecting them then. The only reason Mason would protect anyone other than himself was if he knew he had a lot to lose by talking. I was on to him. The thought of bringing Elena down to get in his head occurred to me, but the fewer people around to hear of my father’s shameful behavior when he was alive, the better.

I was eager to end this pitiful conversation. Squatting so I could inch closer to him face to face, I gave him a small wry smile. “I could do this forever, Mason. But you, I’m not so sure. It’s been, what? Two days? In two more days, you’ll begin to really feel the hunger and then it’ll hit you that time this around, you’re my prisoner. I’m not above starving you to get you to talk. I can assure you there are no humans around and, even if there were, no one would bring them to you. You’re going to stay here in this dark and lonely room, and you’re going to rot. By God, I will give my last breath if it means keeping you here. And the last thing you’ll breathe before the end will be my name.”