Chapter 73 Chapter Twenty
I woke to the weight of sunlight spilling through the curtains, warm across my face. My lashes fluttered, body sore, skin still humming with the ghost of his claws, his teeth, his everything.
When I blinked fully awake, he was there—Lucian Vale. Towering, shirtless, ink scattered across his chest like beautiful sin, the kind that begged to be touched, licked, worshiped. Each tattoo drew my eyes lower, past the ridges of muscle, to the dangerous promise beneath his waistband. Heat coiled low in my belly, my body aching to press against all that raw strength and let him ruin me the way only a man like that could, but instead of tearing me apart, he was… setting down a tray.
“Eat.” His voice was low, rough from the night before. He slid the tray onto the mattress, right beside me—eggs, toast, coffee so strong the scent itself made my throat tighten.
I pushed myself up on shaky arms, the sheets falling away. His eyes flickered over me once, that familiar burn, but he didn’t pounce. He only stood there, arms folded, watching me. Waiting.
My chest knotted. I picked up the fork and took a bite. The food was warm.
“Good girl,” he murmured, softer this time.
The words twisted inside me, hot and sharp. I chewed and swallowed before setting the fork down.
“Lucian…” My voice cracked, raw from last night, but I held his gaze. “Why?”
His brows furrowed.
“Why did you become like that?. The claws. The red eyes. The way you… changed. That wasn’t just you losing control. That was—” I broke off, staring straight into his eyes. “That was something else. What happened out there?”
The silence stretched, heavy. His jaw flexed. His hands curled into fists at his sides, claws threatening to push through again, but he forced them still.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, guttural, as if it hurt him to shape the words.
“I thought I explained,” he said with a sigh.
“Not in detail.” My voice was steady now, though my pulse thudded wildly in my veins. I leaned closer, my eyes on his, unwilling to look away from the man—the monster—I had seen. “You left without telling me where you were going, and then you came back…” My lips curved, almost in a whisper, “changed. Bigger. Stronger. With claws, with shadows clinging to you, with a voice that didn’t even sound mortal. And I—” I exhaled, a shiver running through me. “I wasn’t afraid. I liked it, Lucian. I liked you that way. But I want to know what it means. I want to know what happened to you.”
His eyes flickered, heat and torment flashing in their depths. He turned his face away for a moment, jaw clenched like a man who didn’t want to confess, but couldn’t keep the truth buried.
“There’s a war coming.” His voice was certain, like a sentence already sealed. “They first noticed when their men stopped coming back. Entire units—trained, loyal, vicious—wiped out like children in the dark. Not one survivor.” His jaw ticked.
A chill slid down my spine.
“The six called me back. Wrath. Greed. Pride. Sloth. Envy. Gluttony. They summoned me.” His mouth twisted, as if just saying it left a bitter taste. “They wanted me to take my throne again as Lust. To mend the circle, to reforge the bond that gave us our strength. Because without me, they’re weaker. Our power was forged together, and when I left, it broke.”
He leaned back, eyes shadowed. “At first, I thought it was a trap. But then they showed me the proof. Messages. A single hand writing to us, taunting us. Promising war. Someone out there who knows us—knows us too well. He isn't just killing their Men. He’s peeling back the veil, exposing what should never be seen. The Seven were never meant to exist in the eyes of the world, Salem. We were myth, whispers, fear. But this… this traitor is dragging us into the light. And every step he takes spreads rot in our name.”
Lucian’s fingers curled, claws threatening to push through again, but he forced them back, his breath rough.
“When I sat on that throne, Salem…” His voice dipped low, hoarse. “The throne meant for me. For Lust. I felt it—the power I thought I’d buried. It surged back through me. Every ounce I’d denied, every sin I’d cast aside—it all came roaring back. And it didn’t stop. It wanted to consume me.” His throat worked, his eyes flicking briefly red before settling. “That’s what you saw. The claws, the blood in my eyes. My body straining against something far larger than flesh. My soul being dragged back into hell where it belongs.”
I drew in a breath, sharp and shallow. He looked at me then, truly looked, like he was waiting to see if I would recoil.
But I didn’t.
He gave a low, humorless laugh. “Do you understand now? That wasn’t me losing control. That was me being reminded of what I am. Of what I was always meant to be.”
My hands trembled as I gripped the sheets, but it wasn’t fear rolling through me. It was something darker. Deeper. Fascination that coiled through my veins. The same fascination I’d felt when his claws had pinned me open, when his eyes had burned red, when shadows had wrapped around me like hungry mouths.
I should have screamed. Run. Prayed.
Instead, my lips parted with a whisper. “You were beautiful.”
His head snapped toward me, eyes widening like he hadn’t expected that. His chest rose sharply, too sharply, and for a flicker, I thought he might snarl. But he didn’t.
I licked my lips, heat and shame battling in my chest. “The claws. The eyes. The way you changed.” My voice shook, but I pushed on. “At first, it terrified me. You terrified me. But then…” My breath caught, because even now the memory made me clench around nothing. “Then I wanted more.”
Lucian’s expression shattered. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and something raw flickered behind his gaze. He looked away, dragging both hands through his hair as if he couldn’t bear the weight of my confession.
“Salem,” he growled, low, warning. “Don’t romanticize it. That wasn’t beauty. That was damnation. You saw me slipping. Losing myself.”
“But you didn’t lose me.”
The words burst out before I could stop them. Too bold. Too bare. But true.
His eyes snapped back to mine, burning hotter than fire, deeper than hell itself. His chest heaved once, twice, and then he exhaled slowly, deliberately, like a man trying not to fall.
“I will be leaving for the chapel of teeth tomorrow, " his arms coiled around my waist, dragging me closer until I could feel the heat of him, the steadiness of his heartbeat against my ribs. “The sooner we uncover who’s behind this and end it—the better for us all.”
“I’ll go with you!” Those desperate words ripped from me before I could stop them.
His eyes flared. “No.” His grip tightened at my waist, “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“Lucian, you—
His jaw clenched, shadows flickering behind his eyes. “Salem.” My name broke from him like a warning, guttural, almost a growl. “You don’t understand who I’ll be standing beside. Wrath has leveled kingdoms for looking at him wrong. Envy hates anything beautiful simply for existing. They’re not men. They’re monsters—and even I can’t promise they wouldn’t turn on you.”
My lips parted, but no words came. He pulled me tighter, his voice low, dangerous, trembling with the truth.
“And war is coming. It’s not just talk—it’s real. I don’t know what shape it will take, or who will fall first, but I know this: if you come, you’ll be standing in the center of it. And I—” His voice cracked, rage and fear in one. “I’d rather they destroy me than see one of them lay a finger on you.”
The rawness in his words cut deeper than any blade. For all his darkness, his claws, his fire, it was this confession that undid me.
Slowly, I lifted a hand and laid it against his cheek. His skin burned under my palm, but I didn’t pull away. “Lucian…” My voice trembled, softer now, stripped of fight. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose yourself.”
His eyes closed, lashes brushing against my skin as he leaned into my touch. For a moment, he was not Lust, not the beast with claws and hellfire in his veins. Just a man—my man—clinging to me like I was the only tether he had left.
“Stay here,” he murmured, pressing his lips against my temple, then my forehead, each kiss a vow. “Stay safe. For me.”
I swallowed hard, nodding, even as a piece of me ached to go with him. “For you,” I whispered back.