✦ Chapter 41 ✦
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Lucien walked out of the room without looking back, his steps sharp against the stone floor as his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His fingers curled into fists so hard his knuckles ached, as though pain might anchor him to something solid. His gaze dropped to the ground, a deep frown etched between his brows.
It wasn't possible.
Was it?
Everything was happening far too quickly—too violently—for him to keep pace. For years, after his mother's death, he had learned to bury emotion beneath layers of ice. Hatred, grief, anger—he had folded them away neatly, hidden so deep they no longer surfaced unless he summoned them. Control had been his armor. Silence, his shield.
But now, every emotion slipped through his grasp like water through open fingers.
He felt exposed.
Readable.
