The music played on within the grand ballroom, laughter and chatter dancing in the air as couples spun and swayed in silken grace. But Vivienne stood still.
The place where Lucian had stood just moments ago now held only empty air and the faintest trace of his scent—cool and unplaceable, like a storm waiting to break.
She blinked, confused, her breath quickening. "Lucian?" she whispered, but the crowd swallowed her voice whole. Her eyes scanned the faces swirling past her, nobles and villagers dressed in their finest, all lost in celebration. But he was nowhere.
Clutching her skirts, she stepped deeper into the crowd, her heart hammering a rhythm of its own. She turned this way and that, pushing past dancers and laughing nobles, but Lucian's tall, dark figure did not appear.
Where had he gone? Why did he keep vanishing?
Frustrated, she bit her lip and backed away from the chaos. Then, without another thought, she turned and fled the ballroom. Her fingers gathered her flowing red gown, lifting it just enough to keep from tripping as she hurried through the manor's stone corridors and out into the night air.
The cool breeze struck her skin, and she paused beneath the archway. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she looked left. Nothing. Right. Nothing. Then—
Ahead.
Just past the torch-lit path, at the edge of the garden, stood a lone figure. Unmoving. Back turned.
Her breath caught. She knew it was him.
"Wait!" she called out, voice trembling. "Lucian, wait!"
The figure turned slowly.
He faced her now, bathed in moonlight, the faintest flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. The shadows played against the sharpness of his jaw, his eyes glinting beneath thick lashes like a man who had secrets carved into his bones.
Vivienne approached, her steps hurried, emotions storming in her chest. "Why?" she blurted out. "Why do you always disappear like that?"
Lucian tilted his head slightly, one brow lifting. "Why do I what?"
"Don't give me that look," she snapped, stepping closer. "I don't even know who you are. You sent that letter, those words—you meant them. And then you vanish. Again. What are you hiding? Who are you?"
He said nothing at first.
Then, a low chuckle escaped him, soft and rich. "You ask so many questions, my lady."
She crossed her arms, face flushed from more than just the cold. "You keep giving me reasons to ask."
Lucian took a step forward. Then another. The smile faded from his lips—not out of malice, but something deeper. Something more dangerous.
"And if I told you," he said, his voice like velvet over steel, "that I would answer all your questions… if only you would say yes?"
She blinked. "Yes to what?"
"To me."
Vivienne's heart skipped. She took a cautious step back, but her feet felt rooted. "But I don't know anything about you," she breathed. "I don't know what man you are, or which kingdom you come from. I know nothing of your family, your name—your truth."
Her eyes searched his, a dozen questions still trapped in her throat. "And who knows," she whispered, "you could be dangerous."
Lucian's lips curled into a slow smile. He stepped closer until the air between them grew thin and warm.
"Danger," he murmured, "you're right about that one."
He towered over her now, his gaze fixed firmly on hers. Her breath came faster, but she could not look away. His presence pulled at her like a tide, slow and consuming.
Then—gently, almost reverently—Lucian raised a single hand. His index finger brushed beneath her chin, lifting her face toward his own.
His eyes gleamed like a predator in moonlight.
"Do you want to be part of my world, Lady Vivienne?"
And the night went still around them.