Chapter 9 LUCIAN
Lucian’s POV
The morning air still clung to the chill of dawn, crisp and damp as I stood outside her door, staring at the faint imprint of her scent on the wood. It lingered like something forbidden soft, floral, faintly sweet beneath the shield of suppression. I could still feel the echo of her voice, the crack in it when she’d told me to leave.
And like a fool, I had.
Varos stirred inside me, restless, growling under his breath. "You shouldn’t have left her," he grumbled, his voice thick with disapproval.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I muttered. “She didn’t want me there.”
“She didn’t mean it,” Varos countered, pacing the corners of my mind. “She smelled of fear, not hatred.”
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. The memory of her trembling voice still stung more than I’d admit. I’d wanted to reach for her, to tell her she was safe. Instead, I’d watched her flinch from me.
Now I stood at her door, longer than I should have. My wolf and I were both fools for her.
The house was quiet, no movement behind the thin curtains. I wanted to knock, to see her again, to apologize. But I didn’t. Not yet. I was hanging by a thread, and the thread smelled like Aria.
I turned away before I did something stupid.
\---
The forest swallowed me whole the moment I shifted. Bones cracked and reformed, fur bursting through skin. Varos surged forward in a blur of silver and black, our paws pounding against the damp earth. The run helped, it always did but today it felt different. The air was thick, heavy with questions.
“She’s ours,” Varos reminded me, his voice steady now, low and reverent. “And she’s scared. Something broke her, Lucian.”
I leapt over a fallen tree trunk, feeling the strain in every muscle. “Yeah, I noticed,” I muttered back, though my voice came out more of a growl.
“We have to fix it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is.”
I ran until the edge of the forest bled into the open stretch leading back to the Pack House. The sprawling building came into view stone, timber, and ghosts of a life I’d left behind.
By the time I shifted back, sweat coated my skin and the air felt warmer. Late morning light spilled across the yard as I approached the back entrance, tugging on the shorts I’d left stashed under the porch the night before.
\---
Josie was in the kitchen when I walked in, humming under her breath as she kneaded dough. The smell of cinnamon and butter filled the air, instantly grounding me. She was always like that, a steady and warm, presence that made everything a little less heavy.
“You missed breakfast,” she said without turning around.
“I wasn’t hungry,” I replied, reaching for a towel to wipe my face.
“You were gone all morning.” Her voice was soft but pointed. “Running again?”
I paused. “Yeah.”
She turned then, narrowing her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Lucian Ashwood.”
I almost smiled. “I’ll work on it.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, shaking her head as she rolled the dough flat. “You look troubled. Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
Josie studied me for a second, then sighed. “Then sit. I’ll make you something.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“And I said sit,” she countered, her tone final. I knew better than to argue.
I sat.
It wasn’t long before the sound of tiny feet echoed down the hallway.
“Josieeee!” came a sing-song voice, and then Sofia burst into the kitchen, a bundle of blonde curls and flour-streaked cheeks.
Josie turned just in time to catch the bag of flour before it toppled. “Sofia Ashwood!” she scolded. “What did I say about the pantry?”
The little girl froze for a second, then giggled. “It wasn’t me!”
“Liar,” Josie muttered, though her lips twitched with amusement.
Sofia spotted me then. Her eyes were bright gold like Adrian’s widened. “It’s you again.” she said, tilting her head.
I smiled. “Yes it is.”
Her mouth formed an ‘O.’ “Josie says your daddy's bwoda and you're my uncle, no wonder you smell like him.”
The words hit harder than I expected. My throat tightened, and before I could respond, she waddled over, reaching her tiny arms up. “Pick me up.”
“Uh…”
“Lucian,” Josie warned softly, but I was already giving in. I scooped the little girl up awkwardly, and she immediately patted my face with her small hands.
“Your beard is scratchy,” she said seriously.
“Yeah?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“Mm-hmm. Daddy didn’t have a beard.”
I froze again. Josie noticed and quickly changed the subject. “Sofia, why don’t you help me set the table?”
“But I want to stay with…”
“Now.”
Sofia sighed but obediently climbed down, running off toward the table.
Josie’s eyes softened as she looked back at me. “She misses him. They all do.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I wish I’d known them sooner.”
“They’ll come around,” she said, giving me a small smile. “You’re their uncle. They just need time.”
I nodded, though a lump had already formed in my throat.
Lunch was halfway done when the door opened and Orion stepped in.
“Lucian,” he greeted, his tone easy. “Didn’t expect to find you home.”
“I needed air,” I said simply.
He gave Josie a fond look before glancing back at me. “Good timing, then. I wanted a word. In your brother’s study.”
Josie handed him a fresh cup of coffee. “Be gentle with him, Orion,” she warned. “He’s been through enough this week.”
Orion smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll try.”
The study smelled like cedar and ink. Adrian’s scent was faint now, but still there, clinging to the bookshelves and the old oak desk. It made something in my chest twist.
“Lucian,” Orion began, gesturing to the man standing beside him. “I wanted to introduce you to someone.”
The man turned, a tall figure with slicked-back hair and a calculating gaze. “Malrik Veynar,” Orion continued. “He was Adrian’s Beta.”
Malrik stepped forward, extending a hand. “Alpha,” he said smoothly, his smile polite but too sharp. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” I said, though my tone was neutral. I took his hand. His grip was firm, too firm. His eyes didn’t quite match his smile.
Orion went on, oblivious to the tension. “Adrian rescued Malrik’s pack about two years ago. Their Alpha, Alaric, was… a monster. Enslaved his own wolves. When Adrian challenged him and won, he left Malrik in charge of what remained.”
The mention of the pack made my pulse jump. This must be the pack Aria talked about.
I schooled my face, nodding as if this was all new information.
“Your brother made Malrik Beta last year,” Orion added. “They were close.”
“Were,” Malrik echoed softly, his gaze flicking to me. “I was… devastated to hear of his passing. But I vow to serve you now, Alpha Lucian. My loyalty is to Ashwood.”
Something about the way he said it made my skin crawl. Varos growled low in the back of my mind. “I don’t like him.”
“Noted,” I said curtly.
Orion gave Malrik a dismissive nod, signaling the end of the introduction. Malrik bowed slightly and excused himself, leaving me alone with Orion.
When the door shut, I finally exhaled. “He’s new,” I said quietly.
“New, but reliable. Adrian trusted him.”
“Did he?”
Orion’s eyes narrowed slightly, catching the tone in my voice. “You sound skeptical.”
“I’m cautious,” I corrected. “That’s all.”
He hummed, then moved toward the window. “As you should be. Especially now.”
There was silence for a moment before I spoke again. “Tell me about that pack. Alaric’s.”
Orion’s shoulders tensed before he sighed. “Alaric was cruel. Took Omegas as slaves. Used them, broke them. When Adrian found out, he couldn’t stand by. Challenged him, won, freed the survivors. Malrik was Alaric’s brother, apparently the ‘good one.’ Or so Adrian believed.”
I frowned. “And Adrian made him Beta?”
“He did. Said he wanted to give the man a chance.”
“And where’s that pack now?”
“Scattered. Some stayed. Some fled.”
I said nothing, just a curt nod.
By the time I left the study, the sky outside had dimmed, the first hints of dusk filtering through the tall windows. I paused at the threshold, my hand brushing against the frame of the door that once belonged to my brother.
I could still hear Sofia’s laugh echoing faintly down the hall.
But my thoughts weren’t on her, or Josie, or even Orion.
They were on a woman with trembling hands and eyes that looked at me like I might burn her alive.
Aria.
My mate. My curse.
Something was wrong in all of this, Adrian’s death, Malrik’s suspicious loyalty, Aria’s fear. It all connected somehow, I could feel it in my bones.
Varos stirred, his tone quiet now. “So what do we do?”
“We find out the truth,” I said, my voice steady even as the weight of it settled deep in my chest.
“And if it hurts?”
“Then we bleed,” I answered. “But we’ll know.”