Chapter fifty-eight: Summoned at Dawn

Chapter fifty-eight: Summoned at Dawn
Chapter 58 – Summoned at Dawn

The knock came before sunrise. Three sharp raps against the door cut through the haze of Levi's restless half-sleep, dragging him from the depths of his dreams. The echoes reverberated in the stillness, each one jolting him awake, sending his heart racing.Levi sat up, heart pounding in his chest like a bass drum.

The storm inside him hadn’t calmed through the night; it brewed fiercer, leaving him disoriented, the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing down on him.

He could still feel the ghost of Lucien’s hand on his neck, the heat that lingered like a branding iron. He hated how his body betrayed him every time he replayed the moment in his mind, wanting to resist but finding himself powerless against the memory.The guard’s voice was curt, a sharp reminder of his circumstances.

“He wants you. Now.”Levi dragged himself to the door, the weight of dread coiling in his stomach. No time to dress properly, no chance to steady himself or rearrange the mess of his thoughts. The hallways were dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of lamp sconces casting long shadows across the marble.

Levi followed the guard in silence, his pulse racing louder than his footsteps, a frantic metronome pounding in his ears.When the study doors opened, a chill crept up Levi’s spine. Lucien sat at his desk, perfectly composed, as though he had been expecting him for hours.

The king’s demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos Levi felt inside; Lucien was the eye of the storm, calm and collected in a world that felt increasingly chaotic.“Sit,” Lucien commanded, not bothering to disguise the authority laced in his tone.

Levi obeyed, too tense to argue, the words rising in his throat but silenced by an instinct that told him resistance would only lead to more scrutiny. His eyes flicked to the journal on the desk. Closed. Waiting. An ominous reminder of the confessions that had spilled from him before, each page a reminder of his vulnerabilities.

Lucien didn’t touch the journal. Instead, his gaze locked onto Levi’s, sharp as a blade, slicing through the tension. “You spoke to me last night,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate.Levi froze, his breath suspended in disbelief. “What?” he managed to choke out, his heart racing even faster.

A small smile curved Lucien’s lips, a hint of satisfaction. “You thought the silence kept you safe. But you spoke anyway, to the camera. To me.”Levi’s stomach dropped, ice spreading through his veins. The realization hit like a cold wave crashing over him—every outburst, every whisper, every trembling confession had been recorded, seen.

The thought churned in his mind, nausea pooling in his gut.He forced his voice steady, determined to maintain a facade of control. “I was talking to myself,” he retorted, trying to convince both Lucien and himself of that flimsy truth.“No.” Lucien leaned forward, his voice low and certain, cutting through Levi's defenses like a knife.

“You were talking to me. Always me.”Levi’s hands curled into fists on his lap, the tension building until his knuckles looked like alabaster. “You can twist it however you want,” he spat, battling against the edges of fear creeping into his voice. “It doesn’t change what I feel.”Lucien rose from behind his desk, circling it with unhurried, deliberate steps until he stood behind Levi’s chair.

His presence felt overwhelming, dominating the space, and his hand rested lightly on the backrest, not touching him, but close enough that Levi felt the heat radiate from him, a subtle invitation and a threat all at once.“It changes everything,” Lucien murmured, his voice dropping even lower, taking on a conspiratorial tone.

“Because silence doesn’t protect you. It betrays you.”Levi’s breath hitched at the implication, the very suggestion causing his heart to rebel against his control. The tempest inside him roared back to life, a mix of defiance and fear battling for dominance.

Lucien stepped away at last, reclaiming his composure as he returned to the desk. He opened the journal with deliberate calm, the sound sharp and echoing in the stillness of the study. “Write,” he ordered.Levi stared at the blank page, the pen feeling like a heavy weight in his hand, as if it contained the power to either free him or seal his fate.

The silence in the room roared louder than thunder, oppressive and filled with unspoken words that begged to escape.And Lucien was right—every word he refused to write would betray him just as much as the ones he did allow to flow from his pen. Each letter could unravel his carefully maintained defenses, lay him bare before Lucien, exposing the fractures he fought so desperately to conceal.

Levi’s mind raced, frantic thoughts colliding in his head. He longed to scream, to defy, but the urge to surrender to Lucien’s command gnawed at him. Should he continue to conceal himself behind a wall of silence or let the words spill forth, expose the truth he was so terrified to confront?His grip tightened on the pen as he wrestled with the turmoil inside.

The flickering candlelight cast shapes that danced across the page, blurring reality as his imagination soared to what lay beyond these walls. There was a world outside this confine—a world that felt light-years away.“Why do you want me to write?” he croaked finally, breaking the oppressive quiet. “What do you gain from this?”Lucien stood poised and unyielding, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might have been amusement or something darker. “You already know the answer, Levi.

Words are weapons; they can build or destroy. But they can also bind. And you have the power to decide how tightly you wrap those chains around yourself. So, write.”In that moment, the decision weighed on him like a thousand stones.

Levi was no longer just a prisoner in a cage; he was a battleground, torn between two wills—the will to fight and the will to succumb.