Lucien's POV
And just like that, my rage flared—sharp and immediate. But underneath it, something twisted inside me. It wasn't pity or me going soft or easy on someone. It was a heavier, sharper feeling that made my chest tighten in a way I wasn't used to.
"Open the door," I ordered, my voice low and tight. "Let that person in."
The moment I saw her, I knew it. The dirt, the mess, the desperation—of course, it had to be her.
Seraphina. Again.
Why the hell was I always running into her like this? Always broken. Always showing up in the worst possible state. Was I her damn savior or some cursed soul tied to her downfall? I wasn't sure what pissed me off more—the sight of her like this, or the fact that it was becoming a pattern.
Don't tell me I'm her guardian angel.
What a laugh. Her brother might've thought so when he practically begged me to keep an eye on her. Like I owed him something. I should've said no and should've just walked away.