CHAPTER 39: SHE IS THE REASON

Lucian instantly pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as if shielding me from the world itself. He leaned close, his breath brushing against my ear.

"Seraphina," he whispered urgently, "hide your flames. No one should know about yours."

I started to panic. "How?" The question slipped out without much thought. How was I supposed to suppress them? I didn’t even know how they had appeared in the first place. I looked straight into Lucian’s eyes, fear clouding my vision. "Help me... I don’t know how..."

Lucian’s arms tightened around me, the chill of his skin grounding against the heat radiating from mine. His eyes flickered with emotions—fear, control, desperation all at once.

"Look at me," he said softly but firmly. "Don’t think about the fire. Think about me."

"I’m trying," I whispered, my voice shaking. "But it’s not listening...it won’t stop!"

"Then listen to me." His tone sharpened, but it wasn’t anger, it was command born of instinct. The kind that made even the storm pause. "Breathe with me, Seraphina."

He pressed his forehead lightly against mine, his cool breath steady and rhythmic. "In..." he murmured, and I inhaled shakily. "Out."

Slowly, the wild pulse of warmth inside me began to flicker, the flames shrinking in response to the calm in his voice. The light dimmed, retreating back into my chest until all that remained was the faint warmth between us.

When it was finally gone, I sagged against him, trembling, my breath uneven. "It listened," I whispered in disbelief.

Lucian didn’t move, his arms still wrapped around me, his voice barely above a murmur. "It listened to you," he corrected gently. "So... you need to learn how to control them."

"Is this the reason you married her?"

The voice cut through the silence like a blade of ice.

Both of us froze.

Lucian’s head turned sharply toward the direction of his father, his entire body tensing. His father stood there, with his suspicious eyes, looking straight at him.

For a split second, Lucian’s composure cracked. His grip on me tightened, almost possessive, and I could feel the sudden shift in his energy, the chill beneath his calm.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he clasped my hands, his voice low and firm. "Let’s go home," he said quietly, his tone deceptively even.

"Lucian—" I started, but he cut me off, his hand pressing gently against my back as he guided me away.

"Not here," he murmured, his voice barely audible, meant only for me. "Don’t say a word."

The air around us thickened, heavy with frost and unspoken tension.

Behind us, his father’s faint, amused chuckle echoed through the mist. "Running away, my son? Or afraid I’ll tell her the truth?"

Lucian stopped walking. His hand tightened around mine, and for a moment, I thought he would stay silent. But then, without turning to face him, he spoke and his tone was calm, sharp, perfectly measured.

"What truth?" he said coldly. "She already knows I married her because of the blood vows. And she agreed to it."

The words hung in the air like shards of ice.

My legs felt weak. The world around me blurred... the wind, the cold, even his father’s faint smirk fading into the distance. All I could hear was his voice, calm and distant, as if what we shared was nothing more than an arrangement.

Yes... it was true.

That was how it began... Our marriage bound by the ancient vow between dragon and phoenix. A contract of power, not love. I knew that. I had accepted it.

So why... Why did it hurt so much to hear him say it?

The ache in my chest spread like fire beneath my ribs, quiet but relentless. Maybe it was because, somewhere along the way, I had forgotten what the vow truly meant. Maybe I had started to believe that the warmth in his touch, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, was something real.

But his words were cold and deliberate, shattering that fragile illusion.

Lucian turned back to me, his expression unreadable. The frost in his eyes wavered for a moment, just enough for me to see the guilt buried underneath. "Seraphina," he said quietly, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "Don’t—"

I looked away before he could finish. "It’s fine," I whispered, though the words trembled as they left my lips. "You don’t have to explain. I know what this is."

He hesitated, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something more but his father’s presence loomed behind us, heavy and watchful, the air sharp with unspoken tension.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The silence pressed in until Lucian finally exhaled, his voice low and measured. "Let’s talk at home," he said quietly, his tone gentler now, almost pleading. Then, as if afraid I might slip away, he added more firmly, "Let’s go home."

Both of us turned and walked away, the frost crunching softly beneath our steps, leaving his father standing there alone amidst the fading mist.

"Lucian..." His father’s voice rose behind us, sharp and commanding. "You know what you’re planning to do is forbidden... so don’t you ever dare to try it!"

Lucian froze mid-step. For a heartbeat, he didn’t turn, didn’t breathe, didn’t speak. The air around us thickened, heavy with a tension that felt alive.

Then, slowly, he looked over his shoulder. His silver eyes gleamed faintly under the dying light of the Fair.

"I stopped caring about what’s forbidden the moment you killed everything sacred between us," he said, his voice calm but laced with something that burned colder than frost.

His father didn’t reply. The only sound that followed was the whisper of the wind, carrying with it a chill that sank deep into my bones.

Lucian turned back to me, his jaw tight but his expression softening slightly when our eyes met. "Don’t listen to him," he murmured. "He’s trying to provoke me and disrupt our relationship."

I nodded faintly, though the echo of his father’s warning still lingered in my chest like a shadow.