CHAPTER 301: CHAPTER 301: AMBER BUTTERFLY

For all his mocking, Lucas found himself slowing as they moved along the cases. His steps grew quieter, less resistant, as jeweled beetles gleamed under the lanterns like enameled pins and butterflies unfurled frozen wings of impossible color.

He leaned closer to one display, his breath catching as light fractured through delicate scales that shimmered from violet to indigo. The crooked smile that had been his armor softened into something smaller, unguarded. "They don’t even look real," he murmured.

Trevor stayed just behind him, his hand still at Lucas’s waist, his expensive cologne clinging to the air around him. "That’s what makes them valuable."

Lucas tilted his head toward him, eyes catching the glow of soft lights. "Would you pin me to a display too? I’m rare." He joked with mischief in his eyes.

Trevor’s lips curved, the faintest hint of teeth showing in the lantern glow. "No," he said evenly, leaning just enough that his breath brushed Lucas’s ear. "I’d never put you behind glass. I’d keep you where only I could touch."

Lucas flushed, though he scoffed to cover it, green eyes rolling up at him. "Possessive brute."

"Married mate," Trevor corrected smoothly, his hand pressing just a little firmer at Lucas’s waist before easing again.

Lucas huffed, but the mischief lingered in his eyes as he turned back to the displays, moving a few steps ahead. The next case gleamed with polished amber, golden light glowing warmly under the lamps. He slowed, his smirk slipping away.

In its center, a butterfly lay frozen mid-flight, wings outstretched as if still trying to escape. Perfect, delicate, and impossibly fragile, suspended in a prison of honeyed stone.

Lucas stopped. His throat tightened, breath catching as something old and unwelcome pressed through him. He felt like he had seen that butterfly before, but it was impossible; he wasn’t interested in insects until now.

His breath misted faintly against the glass as he leaned closer, green eyes locked on the wings frozen in golden resin. The longer he stared, the stronger the pull became, a quiet ache at the base of his ribs, as though something deep in him remembered and recoiled all at once.

’Why does it feel like I’ve seen you before?’

The butterfly’s wings glimmered under the lantern light, pale blue threaded with black veins, delicate as breath. The amber trapped it mid-motion, a flight cut short, captured forever. A life that had almost been lived, now only preserved.

Lucas’s chest tightened, his hand lifting unconsciously until his fingertips hovered just shy of the glass. His mind whispered fragments he couldn’t place. It wasn’t something that he felt in this life or the life where he was Velloran’s puppet.

Trevor came up beside him, his cologne wrapping through the thick, earthy air. "Lucas," he said quietly but firmly enough to reach him.

Lucas blinked, pulling in a breath that trembled despite him. He lowered his hand before it could meet the glass, forcing a crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It just looks... familiar. Like it’s still alive. Still trying to fly."

Trevor studied him for a long moment, violet eyes catching the lamplight, sharp enough to see what Lucas didn’t say. But he didn’t press. His arm slipped more firmly around Lucas’s waist, his lips brushing his temple in a kiss that was gentle and grounding.

"It’s dead; I doubt you can free it now."

Lucas let out a short laugh, sharp but thinner than usual. "Always the romantic, Trevor. Crush my sentiment like you crush your business rivals."

"Efficient," Trevor replied smoothly, steering him away from the amber case. His hand never left Lucas’s waist, a quiet anchor as they walked further down the lantern-lit path.

The next display glittered with iridescent beetles, emerald shells catching the light like jewels. Lucas leaned closer, tilting his head, lips quirking again. "These look like they belong in Cressida’s jewelry box."

Trevor’s mouth curved. "I’d buy her the collection if it kept her distracted."

Lucas barked out a laugh, genuine this time. "Gods, don’t tempt her. She’d actually wear a beetle tiara to dinner just to prove she could pull it off."

They moved past another case, butterflies pinned in careful rows, each wing patterned with impossible designs, eyes, flames, and rivers of color. Lucas slowed again, pointing to one with sharp red markings across black wings. "That one looks like it’s daring me to touch it. I think I like it."

"Of course you do," Trevor murmured, lips brushing his temple again. "Dangerous, defiant, and guaranteed to bite if handled wrong."

Lucas snorted, elbowing him lightly. "You just described me, didn’t you?"

Trevor’s answering smile was smug and certain. "I just described the perfect mate for me; it just happens to be you."

Lucas blinked, his grin faltering for just a second as warmth climbed stubbornly up his neck. He turned his face away, pretending to study a row of butterflies with glassy wings. "Gods, you can’t just say things like that while we’re standing in front of dead insects. It feels illegal."

Trevor’s hand tightened briefly at his waist, steady and possessive. "I don’t care where we are."

Lucas groaned, dragging a hand down his face, though the laugh threading through it betrayed him. "Smug bastard. I married a menace."

Trevor bent closer, his voice low against his ear. "Twice."

Lucas rolled his eyes skyward, lips twitching. "I should’ve stopped at one."

"And yet you didn’t," Trevor countered, guiding him toward the conservatory’s exit. "Which makes you mine twice over."

Lucas shook his head, green eyes glinting as he glanced up at him. "Dinner better be worth this level of insufferable."

Trevor’s smile curved faintly, smug and unmovable. "It will be."

The hush of the conservatory followed them as they wound back toward the doors, lantern light giving way to the faint silver spill of the city night beyond the glass. Lucas’s steps slowed near the amber case again. His green eyes flickered catching the frozen wings before he looked away, forcing his smirk back into place.

But Trevor saw it.

He paused too, his gaze settling on the butterfly suspended mid-flight, delicate veins threaded through translucent wings, forever caught between freedom and stillness. For a long breath he said nothing, his arm firm around Lucas’s waist as if to remind him where he belonged.

When Lucas shifted as though to hurry them on, Trevor bent close, his lips brushing lightly against his temple. "You’re not trapped anymore," he murmured.

Lucas froze, the words hitting sharper than they should have. He covered it quickly with a scoff, shaking his head. "You really can’t help yourself, can you? Smug, romantic, and annoyingly accurate. The trifecta."

Trevor only guided him onward, steady, unyielding. At the doors, Lucas glanced back one last time at the amber butterfly. The golden light clung to the glass, warm and fragile, before the heavy doors closed behind them and the night air rushed in.

Trevor didn’t look back again. His eyes stayed forward, on Lucas, as though the exhibit had already served its purpose.