Together

Together
The rain fell, cold sinking deeper into my bones as my chest tightened with a knot of grief and anger. Nobody was following. Nobody cared. I didn’t matter.

I collapsed to my knees, hands pressing against the wet ground as I sobbed, the tears mixing with the rain, the weight of everything too much to bear. I had never felt so powerless.

And then, as if summoned by my pain, I felt him.

Lucien.

I could feel him before I saw him, his presence like an electric charge in the air, pulling me in despite the storm between us. I didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to see him, but I couldn’t stop the way my heart twisted when I heard his voice, smooth as velvet, cutting through the rain.

“I knew you wouldn’t get far,” he said, his tone a mix of dark amusement and something more... intimate. He was standing just behind me, the storm swirling around him, but his figure was unmistakable.

I refused to look at him. My chest heaved with sobs, my hands trembling as I tried to compose myself. “Why didn’t you follow me?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why didn’t you care? You couldn’t even be bothered to come after me.”

Lucien knelt down in front of me, his sharp eyes glowing even in the gloom of the rain-soaked forest. He was wearing a white shirt, soaked through by the downpour, clinging to his chest, the fabric almost see-through now, outlining the strong planes of his body. I couldn’t help but notice despite myself, even as the fury still burned inside me.

“I'm here, aren't I? I care,” he murmured softly, reaching out to touch my wet cheek with one hand, his fingers gentle against my skin. “But this… this isn’t how it works. Not for you. Not for me.”

I jerked away from him, the anger bubbling back up. “I don’t care about your rules!” I spat, my voice shaking with emotion. “You’re just like them. You’re all the same. You use people, break them, and throw them away when you’re done.”

Lucien’s face hardened at my words, but his gaze didn’t waver. He reached out again, this time cupping my face in both hands, pulling me to look at him. “Arabella,” he said quietly, his voice low and almost pleading, “I’m not like the people who hurt you. I’m not using you. You think I want to hurt you?”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The pain, the confusion, the guilt—it all crashed into me at once. I crumpled against him, my sobs wracking my body, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Lucien’s arms wrapped around me then, pulling me close. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held me, his body warm and solid against the storm, and I let myself lean into him. My face pressed against his damp shirt, my sobs shaking him, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t push me.

For the first time, I felt the tenderness in his touch—gentle, soothing, something real—and I couldn’t help but collapse into it. I let go of all the anger, all the fear, just for a moment, and let him hold me.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured against my hair, his voice rough. “I never wanted to hurt you. Not like this.”

I sniffled, the tears still falling freely as I clung to him. “You don’t get it,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so lost."

Lucien’s grip tightened around me, pulling me closer, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my back. “Just let it go. We’ll figure it out together.”

I closed my eyes, the storm around us fading into the background as his warmth enveloped me. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe him. To believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something between us that was more than just pain and chaos.

And as the rain poured down on us, the world feeling far away. It wasn’t enough. I knew it wasn’t. But for the first time since I’d arrived here, it felt like I had a choice in what happened next.

He didn’t say anything, just carried me silently through the forest and back toward the castle. The rain had lightened, turning to a fine mist that clung to my skin as we walked. Every so often, I could feel his grip on me tighten as if he needed to reassure himself that I was really here—that I hadn’t slipped away into the night, lost to the storm and the secrets between us.

When we finally reached the castle, the grandeur of the darkened hallways seemed almost ethereal. His steps were sure, the quiet of the castle amplifying the softness of his movements. It felt like time had slowed down, and everything around us was just... still.

He pushed open the heavy door to his chambers and stepped inside. The warmth of the room contrasted with the chill of the rain-soaked air, and I let out a shaky breath as he crossed the floor toward the grand bed.

He paused at the edge of it, gently laying me down on the silk sheets. The softness of the fabric beneath me felt foreign, like I was sinking into a dream. My eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but Lucien’s touch was still there, lingering.

“Rest,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of wet hair away from my face. His fingertips were warm against my damp skin, his touch almost reverent. There was a tenderness there, a care that I hadn’t expected from him. But here, in this moment, it felt real.

“Lucien…” I started, but my voice trailed off as exhaustion began to creep in again. I had so many questions. So many thoughts still whirling in my mind. But my body refused to comply. The strain, the fear, the heartbreak, it had all taken its toll.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice a little rougher now, almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “You don’t need to talk right now. Just sleep. You’re safe.”

I let out a shaky sigh, my eyes closing again as the world around me began to blur, fading into a soft haze of comfort. His presence—his warmth—wrapped around me like a blanket, soothing the storm that still raged inside me.

But there was more I wanted to say. So much more. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to ask why, why all of this. But even as the questions built up in my chest, I couldn't bring myself to push him away. Not now. Not when everything else felt so uncertain.

He stayed beside me, silent, watching over me as I drifted off to sleep. His hand lingered at my side, and I knew—somewhere deep down—that he wasn’t leaving. Not yet.

And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to rest. To close my eyes and forget, even if only for a moment, about everything I had yet to face.