Page 9 of Owned

What was he thinking?

He had been paranoid these past few weeks—ever since Avril’s initiation.

She had performed her part well…maybe too well.

Or was it something else? Had Elder Craster’s confession set him on edge?

He would never admit to such weakness, but if my father was afraid—perhaps we should be, too.

I stole a glance at Avril, seated beside him.

She looked fragile under Lucian’s looming shadow, her posture was stiff and her eyes were on her hands. The way her fingers gripped the edge of the table made me want to leap across the table and snatch her away… but I couldn’t move.

None of us could.

I wanted to tell her that everything would be fine—that our plans would work.

What plans?

My own thoughts were mocking me now.

We would make a plan, and it would work.

“May I leave?” Avril croaked.

She had barely touched her food, and Lucian’s focus turned to her. I struggled to stay still as my father’s gaze lingered on her with an unsettling intensity.

“But we have barely begun,” Lucian replied. His voice was smooth, but we could all hear the venom in his tone. “My dear, the night is young, and we have much to discuss.” He leaned closer, a predator reveling in the scent of prey, and placed a long finger beneath her chin to force her to look up at him. Her breath hitched slightly as she met his icy gaze, and I clenched my fists tighter beneath the table as fury bubbled just below the surface.

“Discuss what?” she dared to ask.

“You wound me,” Lucian replied, his tone deceptively light as he flicked his finger under her chin. Avril flinched and Bastian’s fork scraped against his plate as he fought to control himself.

“To think you had forgotten what has been promised—” A smile curved over his lips as he reached for his wineglass and raised it to his lips to take a thoughtful sip. He savored the wine and swirled the remainder in his glass while he looked down at Avril indulgently, as though she were a foolish child.

“You should know— Your mother’s mourning period has ended.”

The room was silent and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Titus flinch.

Lucian seemed unbothered by the tension in the air as Avril’s breath hissed through her teeth.

“That means the time has come to set a date for our wedding… That long-awaited joyful event.” Despite the smile on Lucian’s face, each word that fell from his lips was filled with malice.

Avril’s grip tightened on her fork, knuckles white against the polished metal.

“Has it really been so long?”

Her voice was quiet, and she seemed to move in slow motion as she set down her fork.

“It has, indeed,” Lucian replied. “Agonizing to wait for something so joyful—do you not agree?” Lucian’s pale gaze flickered to us.

“Joyful?” Bastian snorted.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed as he locked eyes on his youngest son. “What?”

“Weddings are so dull,” Bastian continued in a bored tone as he re-filled his wineglass with the dark red vintage. “Is it really necessary to rush into another union so soon? Your guests will get confused—”

What the fuck was he trying to do?

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