Chapter 12 Chapter 12
Bailey's POV
My heart was still pounding like a drum solo from hell. I actually died. Died. I can’t believe it. One minute I was breathing, the next I was… apparently not. When my vision cleared, I realized I was still in the lab—but Nathaniel was here too. Fantastic. Just what every girl wants after returning from the dead: a front-row seat to the Dark Lord’s brooding.
When did he even get here? And how long was I out?
Nathaniel’s stare cut into me, that same icy glare he used whenever he wanted to remind me that he could end me if he felt like it. Honestly, at this point, I didn’t care. If I survived actual death, I could survive this arrogant jerk on my left. The more we talked, the more I hated his guts. He was a real piece of work.
“How long was I out?” I muttered, my voice still shaky. My vision was blurry, and my limbs felt like they’d been filled with cement. After a few awkward attempts, I managed to stand. I caught my reflection in the glass of the scanning machine—hair a mess, pale as a ghost, still in my bra and underwear. Great. The undead look was so in this season. I grabbed my clothes from the floor and pulled them on before anyone could enjoy the show.
“You suddenly lost consciousness in the chamber,” Lucian said, studying the readings on his monitor. “Did the smoke affect your oxygen levels? It shouldn’t have.”
“No, it wasn’t that. I just felt… dizzy.”
He hummed thoughtfully and kept scrolling through data. “Hmm. The scan was successful, at least. Nothing wrong here. Vitals stable. No damage to the heart or brain. But—” his eyes lit up with that dangerous scientist curiosity “—it’s great timing that you dropped by, Nathaniel. There’s a theory I’d like to test.”
Nathaniel’s expression went from bored to suspicious in under two seconds. “What theory?”
Lucian smirked in that calm, I-know-something-you-don’t way of his. “After Tristan ripped the Heart from you and transferred it to this lovely creature here, what were the first changes you noticed?”
Lovely creature. Oh boy. This man could flirt while performing an autopsy. I bet he had women lining up like ballerinas around him. Actually, now that I think of it—yep. Nathaniel in a tutu surrounded by ballerinas. I’m keeping that image forever.
Nathaniel thought about Lucian’s question longer than I expected. “I felt weaker than before. Every time I used a large amount of power, she would either scream in pain or collapse.” His lip curved. “I prefer the latter. She screams like a chicken.”
Lucian sighed. “Please, my lord, skip the commentary.”
Nathaniel’s death glare could’ve frozen a volcano. Lucian just smiled. “If you would, my lord…”
Nathaniel raked a hand through his dark hair—the kind of frustrated motion that accidentally makes him look annoyingly good. The light from the window caught on those black waves, and I caught myself staring before snapping out of it.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Every time I push my power too far, it drains me. I haven’t lost any, but it takes more effort now. It’s… exhausting.”
Lucian’s eyes gleamed as he jotted notes. “Fascinating…”
“There’s something else,” Nathaniel added, his tone dropping. “Sometimes I can hear her thoughts. Sometimes I can’t. She blocks me somehow. I didn’t know the Heart was capable of that.”
Lucian smiled softly. “That’s because Bailey is in control.”
The words hit the air like a lightning strike. Nathaniel’s jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”
“As Bailey is the new host,” Lucian explained, “the Heart behaves as if it’s in a completely new vessel. It’s like when you first received it. Think of it as split in two—each half connected but separate. Yours is weakened, hers is… new.”
Nathaniel’s fists tightened, his composure cracking for half a second. His eyes glimmered with restrained fury. I took an instinctive step back. If looks could kill, I’d be dead twice in one day.
“I get that,” he said slowly, “but why is she the dominant one? I’m the more experienced host. My powers are far superior.”
Yeah, yeah, we get it, your majesty. Congratulations on your evil résumé.
“The Heart chose it,” Lucian said simply, shrugging those broad shoulders. “It seems to favor her.”
Nathaniel glared, and that’s when he froze. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you imagining Lucian surrounded by ballerinas?”
Oh no. My stomach dropped. He heard that? Damn it! Forgot to block my thoughts again.
His smirk widened. “Keep on dreaming, little witch. I’ll break that block sooner or later.”
“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.
“Boy, you’ve got a mouth on you,” he purred. “Why don’t you use it and say that out loud… if you dare?”
The air between us thickened. He was too close now, too tall, too everything. My pulse tripped over itself, and I hated that he noticed. His eyes flicked down, just once, before Lucian—thank heaven—stepped between us.
“Please, let’s not get murdery,” Lucian said, holding up his hands. “The lab was just renovated, and I rather like my new toys intact.”
Nathaniel huffed, but stepped back. I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Lucian turned to me with a patient smile. “Now, Miss Bailey, how much do you know about our world?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “Alex told me about your magic—something about the Heart and the Brain. One’s emotion, the other’s logic… or something like that.”
“Close,” Lucian said approvingly. “The Brain magic is rare, more about pure thought than logic. And I assume you’ve met the twins?”
Nathaniel’s nod was the kind of minimal acknowledgment that somehow managed to look regal.
“Interesting,” Lucian murmured. “News travels fast. Someone must have tipped them off.”
“It was my brother,” Nathaniel said. “Alexander probably knew what would happen but couldn’t act without Tristan’s help.”
“So you think they were working together?” Lucian asked, surprised.
“Tristan’s naive. He thought he was helping me,” Nathaniel said bitterly. His tone softened for half a second, like something dark flickered behind his eyes. And then it was gone.
“Can you fix this, Lucian?” His voice turned sharp again. “So I can finally gut this little nuisance and move on?”
Wow. Sympathy gone. Fastest emotional U-turn ever.
“I’ll try,” Lucian said. “Miss Bailey, the power you carry is the darkest kind—pure emotion without restraint. You, however, are… pure-hearted. If you don’t learn control, it will consume you.”
Nathaniel shot me a look, and I realized—oh great—he’d heard my mental “Yeah, I know that already.” Wonderful.
“Yes, I did,” he said aloud. “But how do you already know?”
Lucian’s eyes flicked between us curiously. “Indeed, Miss Bailey?”
“Well, I just assumed—”
And then he was there. One moment across the room, the next—right in front of me. The air cracked with power, Lucian’s silver hair lifting from the shockwave of his sudden movement. Nathaniel leaned in close. Too close. His face was inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips.
It had been a long time since a man stood that near. Unfortunately, it was this man.
“You saw him, didn’t you?” His voice was low, dark velvet and danger. His eyes—those endless black depths—locked on mine, searching for truth.
My heart hammered against my ribs. “I… I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. The space between us vibrated with unspoken threat—and something else I refused to name.
His next words came like a blade to the throat.
“Don’t lie to me, Bailey.”