Page 128 of Owned

The tone of his voice when he’d mentioned Avril—and the fear in his eyes—

I didn’t like it.

But we didn’t have time.

Lucian was impatient at the best of times.

And this was absolutely not a good time.

Valen kept silent as we walked through the house, and when we reached the door of Lucian’s study, I was surprised to find it open.

Our father sat behind his ornate desk and the red orb floated above his shoulder. It pulsed gently in time with his heartbeat, and I had to force myself not to stare at it. The scarlet glow bathed one side of Lucian’s face and stained his moonlight pale hair.

I could almost taste the anger rolling off him in waves.

What now? Hadn’t we done everything he’d asked of us?

And more?

“You’re late,” he said. His smooth voice was edged with venom, and I straightened my shoulders as his pale gaze fixed on me.

“Forgive us, Father,” I shot back, forcing a smirk that felt more like a grimace. “Traffic was murder.”

“Enough,” Lucian snarled. “Have you done what I’ve asked?”

I didn’t flinch. “You know we have.”

“Your sons have, indeed, delivered on their promises,” the advisor said.

Bastian let out a curse. I hadn’t heard him enter the room, either.

The prisoners, bound in tendrils of pale orange smoke, floated between us, suspended off the ground by the lizard-like man’s magic.

Their fear was nakedly apparent now.

Good.

Surely this would keep Lucian distracted.

I pushed everything else from my thoughts and hoped that my brothers had done the same. We’d all learned to keep our thoughts hidden from Lucian—one way or another.

Lucian’s focus was on our guests, but a frown darkened his expression.

“Only two?”

Bastian let out a heavy sigh. “There were three, father. But one of them tried to run... I don’t like rabbits.”

A twitch at the corner of Lucian’s mouth was his only reaction, but his eyes didn’t leave the Sages suspended before him.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Lucian leaned forward and his fingers splayed on the desk like claws.

Elder Ireni’s eyes widened.

He knew.

“Traitors,” Lucian growled. “Turncoats. Cowards…”

He extended the words as he spoke. Drawing out each consonant to make a point of each one.

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