Page 164 of Owned

Not with the looming shadow of Lucian’s cruelty.

“he’s going to just… pretend it didn’t happen,” Bastian said. His voice held a note of what could have been mistaken for awe. But I didn’t want to suspect that my brother couldn’t be trusted.

Not now.

“We can’t let this happen,” Valen said.

The crowd parted like water around Lucian as he accepted more congratulations and promises of support and favor.

“We won’t,” I said.

But the words felt empty as they slipped from my mouth.

What was he planning?

Whatever it was, if we didn’t move fast, we would all end up on the wrong side of it.

The party had been grotesque,but Lucian hadn’t gone out of his way to speak to us.

He’d wanted us there for the announcement.

Nothing more.

As the festivities continued in the ballroom, and they opened new crates of wine and champagne, we found our exit and took our leave.

My head buzzed with the whiskey I’d drunk, and I knew it would be easy to wallow in desperation.

If I were weak or prone to despair, a fresh bottle of whiskey would have been in my hand.

I wouldn’t even have needed a glass.

We descended into the bowels of Withermarsh, swallowed whole by the sprawling beast of the mansion.

Darkness enveloped us.

Suffocated us.

Comforted us.

The air was damp and cold. If it wasn’t so familiar, it would have been oppressive.

The faint blue glow from Valen’s magic lit the pathway, and our strides were quick and sure as we made our way to the hidden chamber.

Bastian pushed ahead of me and leaned into the wooden door to push it open. He reached the weapons rack first and pulled daggers from the wall with quick, agitated movements. Valen followed, but more slowly.

He’d brought the whiskey with him.

No glass.

“She’s as good as his,” Bastian said. He tossed a dagger into the air and caught it deftly by the blade. “He’s mocking us, you know that, right?”

“I’m starting to wonder if he planned everything,” Valen said. “You saw the way he controlled them— It all feels purposeful.”

“Are youinsane? He didn’t plan the Council’s revolt,” I argued. “The old man can’t control everything.”

But I couldn’t be certain.

Was Lucian’s nonchalance really an act? Or was it something else?

---