CHAPTER 245: _YOU HAVE A BROTHER

Lucian’s POV

*****

When Elian nearly fainted in his room, spasming like he was having a seizure... Lucian panicked. A deep fear struck him, making him realise that he might lose his mate at any second.

But all he could do was hold him close, watch and hope nothing bad happened. He was so close to yelling for help when Elian finally regained himself.

One would think the Omega needed rest, but in the blink of an eye, he had gone to the balcony, staring down and spotting a woman in a black cloak.

Lucian only got there on time to see the woman shifting into a black bird before fluttering into the night. And Elian? He seemed shaken unlike anything Lucian had seen before.

That led them to search for Kyren before rushing outside to the spot where the cloaked woman was. And that in turn led to the revelation he was getting from one of the heads of security...

"Rewriting the wards?" Kyren repeated with a tight tone. "Could it be Arian’s doing?"

Lucian shook his head. "I’m not even sure... But something tells me it wasn’t. My father was far from a magi tech expert. And the readings the security team showed me were delicate. Detailed. Like someone who took years dissecting the palace’s security system."

"And manipulating it to their whim." Kyren completed. "If that’s the case, the culprit is obvious. Garrick."

Lucian’s fists clenched beside his body.

By the goddess, why did it have to be that bastard?

Kyren’s lips flattened into a grim line. "If Garrick’s learned how to rewrite the wards, then this isn’t just about sneaking in or spying anymore. He could manipulate the entire system—turn the palace’s own defences against us."

Lucian’s heart thudded. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Kyren said darkly, lowering the feather into his pocket, "if he plays his cards right, the palace could fall under his control without him ever stepping through the gates. One wrong surge, and everything linked to that security ward could backfire—every barrier, every shield, every protection seal."

Silence crashed between them, broken only by the distant rustle of the night wind.

Lucian swallowed, jaw tightening. "Then we have to stop him before that happens."

Kyren nodded once. "And Lucian..." His voice lowered, though his eyes still gleamed like tempered steel. "Be careful. Tell the security team to treat this delicately. Don’t let panic spread."

"I won’t."

"Good." The Rogue King gave Elian a final look—one that was half concern, half quiet regret. "I need to make plans to head back to the Dark Lands. Whatever’s happening here... It’s only the beginning."

And then, just like that, Kyren turned away, vanishing into the fog-drenched night, leaving Lucian and Elian alone under the cold moonlight.

Elian looked distant, as though the conversation had carved something hollow in him.

"Come on," Lucian murmured, lightly brushing Elian’s arm. "Let’s get you some rest."

They walked in silence through the long gilded hallways, the crystal lights flickering weakly in their brackets. The palace felt awfully different tonight.

When they reached Elian’s door, Lucian lingered. "You sure you’re alright?"

Elian nodded, forcing a small smile. "Just... tired. I need to think. And sleep."

Lucian frowned. "Elian, you nearly collapsed earlier. I don’t think—"

"I’ll be fine," Elian cut in gently, violet eyes soft but steady. "I promise. I just need to be alone for a while."

Lucian’s throat tightened. "If something happens again—"

"It won’t." Elian’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Goodnight, Lucian."

Lucian wanted to argue. Gods, he wanted to pull him close and make sure he was safe. But the quiet finality in Elian’s tone held him still.

"...Goodnight," he said at last.

The door shut softly between them.

Lucian stood there for a moment, staring at the wooden frame like it could give him answers.

Then he turned.

He took an Ascension platform to a floor his mother was fond of visiting, walking down the hallway until the scent of night-flowers led him toward the palace greenhouse.

A place his mother always retreated to when she couldn’t sleep

The glass dome shimmered faintly with moonlight when he stepped inside. Vines curled along marble pillars, and a faint perfume of lavender hung in the air.

"Couldn’t sleep either?" The Luna Queen’s voice came from near a bed of glowing roses.

She was in her nightgown, her hair unbound, hands gently pruning a cluster of blue blossoms.

Lucian managed a smile. "I should be asking you that."

"I tried," she sighed, brushing her fingers over a petal. "But it’s strange, isn’t it? The bed feels too big when you’ve shared it with someone for years."

Lucian’s chest ached. "I know."

For a moment, neither spoke.

Only the sound of rustling leaves filled the air.

Then Lucian said quietly, "Mother... Before Father died, he said something to me. Something I can’t stop thinking about."

Elowen glanced at him curiously. "What did he say?"

Lucian hesitated. "He told me to find my brother."

The Queen froze, her hand pausing mid-movement. The light from the bioluminescent flowers reflected faintly in her eyes.

Lucian went on, his tone uncertain. "He said the boy was kidnapped eighteen years ago. I searched the records, tried to see if maybe it was some coded message—but there’s nothing. No birth records. No mention of another heir."

Elowen turned slowly, the grief on her face softening into something far more complex—guilt, sorrow... fear.

"He wasn’t lying," she said at last. Her voice cracked. "You did have a brother, Lucian."

The words hit like thunder.

Lucian blinked. "I—what?"

She exhaled shakily, lowering the flower she’d been holding.

"It happened during a trip your father and I took to one of our private manors near the western border. You and Aurora were too young to remember. He was still a baby—not even up to a year old when he was taken."

Lucian’s heart pounded in his chest. "Taken by who?"

Her lips trembled. "We never found out. All we saw was the aftermath. A burst of red smoke... and a cradle filled with feathers."

Lucian’s blood ran cold.

"Feathers?"

She nodded slowly, eyes distant. "Black ones. I saw those feathers in my nightmares for many nights."

Lucian’s hands curled into fists. "And you kept this from us all these years?"

Tears welled in the Queen’s eyes. "Your father swore it was better this way. We never found a trace of him, and the spiritual leader warned that if the truth spread, the boy could die."

Lucian’s breath hitched—he was shaking, a thousand thoughts colliding in his head.

"Eighteen years..." he murmured, realisation dawning like ice spreading through his veins.

Elowen’s gaze lifted to his, trembling. "Why do you ask, Lucian? Did your father say anything else?"

He swallowed hard. "No. Just... that he’s alive."

The Queen’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as the wind howled suddenly against the greenhouse glass. The flowers’ glow dimmed all at once, like the world itself was holding its breath.

And somewhere in the distance—far beyond the palace walls—a bird’s cry echoed through the night.