Chapter 23 LUCIAN
LUCIAN’S POV
Aria slept curled into me like she had always belonged there.
The early morning light slipped through the curtains in thin, soft lines, catching in the strands of her hair and turning them into molten gold against my pillow. She didn’t stir. Her breathing remained slow, steady, the rise and fall of her chest brushing faintly against my ribs. Every time it happened, something in me, something old, something worn and once sharp enough to cut…softened.
“She looks peaceful,” Varos murmured, the deep rumble of him echoing through the back of my mind. “Pretty, too.”
I huffed a quiet breath. “Breathtaking,” I corrected him. “She's breathtaking.”
Varos liked that answer. His approval moved through my senses in a warm wave.
Last night had been… unexpected. She’d barely made it through the door before exhaustion consumed her completely. She’d fallen asleep almost instantly—still dressed, her bag untouched. I’d ended up showering her gently, drying her hair, tucking her in. She never woke. She trusted me in a way that terrified me.
“She stayed,” Varos whispered. “She stayed with us.”
The thought struck me again, as sharp as before. She could have refused. But she chose me, weighed something in her chest, and said yes.
I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve that. I didn’t know how long I’d have it. But I knew one thing with certainty:
I wanted her here.
With me.
With us.
And I wasn’t used to wanting things. Not anymore.
My gaze drifted to her mouth soft, swollen from sleep, from the kiss we’d shared yesterday morning, a kiss that had crawled under my skin and stayed there. Heat washed through me at the memory. Her taste. Her little sounds. The way she’d kissed me back before yielding so sweetly when I deepened it.
My body reacted before I could stop it.
Blood rushed downward. Fast.
“You’re staring,” Varos teased, entirely unhelpful. “You want her. I want her. This is normal.”
“It’s creepy.”
“It’s instinct.”
“She isn’t ready,” I snapped back, mostly angry at my lack of self control when it came to her.
Varos fell silent but not in disagreement, he was annoyed. “We wouldn’t touch her before she asked,” he rumbled. “You know that. Stop acting as if desire is shameful.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was just inexperienced at wanting someone who wasn’t a threat, a responsibility, or a political advantage.
But still…
“I’m taking a cold shower,” I muttered.
Varos groaned dramatically. “Of course you are.”
“Call it restraint.”
“I call it suffering.”
I ignored him and slipped from the bed with care so I wouldn’t wake her. As soon as I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the cold water, I regretted everything about being alive. The shock of temperature nearly made me curse out loud.
Varos hissed. “You did this to yourself.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled.
When I finally stepped out, steam drifting behind me, I dried my hair lazily with a towel, only to freeze when I saw Aria awake, sitting up in bed with her phone in her hand. Her hair was rumpled, her cheeks still warm from sleep. She looked… soft. Shy. Real.
She glanced up and flinched like she hadn’t expected me to be right there.
“Good morning,” she said quickly. Her voice was soft and airy, like she wasn’t fully awake yet.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out.
Her entire face went pink.
“I-um-my friends were… blowing up my phone,” she admitted, fiddling with a strand of hair. “They want updates. They’re convinced something happened between us last night.”
I smirked and walked closer, slow enough that she had time to watch every step. She did, her eyes growing wide, her posture stiffening.
“And?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. “Are they the only ones hoping something happens?”
Her breath caught so loudly even Varos stilled. Then…
She hiccuped.
A tiny, squeaky hiccup.
Her whole face went red as she dove under the blanket with a groan. “Go away,” she squeaked. “Please.”
I laughed, unable to hold it back. Gods, she was adorable.
“Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” I stood, still smiling. “Go wash up. I’ll wait downstairs. We’ll have breakfast together.”
She peeked out, only her eyes showing. “Okay…”
I forced myself to leave before I did something stupid, like crawl back into bed and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe.
Downstairs, the familiar sound of morning chaos greeted me. Josie was already in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove, while the triplets sat lined up in their high chairs. Sofia kicked her feet happily, Lila pretended she didn’t care, and Elias blinked sleepily at the world.
“Morning,” I said.
“Morning,” Josie replied, barely glancing back. “Someone got in late last night.”
I snorted. “You hear everything.”
She laughed. “Perks of being old and nosy.”
“Aria’s showering. She’ll be down soon.”
Josie smiled knowingly but didn’t pry. I wandered over to the triplets. Lila looked up at me with her usual blunt stare.
“Is she your mate?” she asked.
So direct I almost choked.
“…Yes,” I answered.
Lila nodded once. “Good. I like her.”
Then she went back to eating as if she hadn’t just startled me out of my skin.
Sofia gasped dramatically. “Is she gonna live here now?!”
“For now,” I said, patting her head.
Elias stared at me with big eyes. I leaned closer. “Do you have questions too?”
He shook his head quickly and stuffed more food in his mouth.
I huffed a laugh and headed for coffee.
A moment later, footsteps approached and I turned just as Aria descended the stairs. Fresh-faced, hair brushed, clothes simple but sweet. She looked like sunshine.
“Good morning,” she said to Josie, who beamed like she’d been waiting all day for that.
Then the triplets erupted.
“Aria!” Sofia squealed.
“You look pretty,” Lila said, which for her was practically worship.
Elias reached tiny hands toward her and mumbled, “’Ria feed me?”
A nickname, wow.
She laughed, the sound warm enough to make my chest ache. She moved to them immediately, greeting each child, brushing Elias’s hair back, helping him with his spoon. She fit herself into the space so naturally it was frightening.
I watched her.
I couldn’t help it.
Varos hummed deeply. “This. This is what we want. This is home.”
Maybe he was right. Because as she laughed with them, soft and bright and gentle…
I realized something, something simple and devastating:
I could get used to this.
Too easily.
Far too easily.
And the thought didn’t scare me the way it once would have.
Not anymore.