Page 58 of Lucien

Perfect mate. Perfect flower. What had Luc ever done to deserve him?

Absolutely nothing, Luc thought wryly. He’d done horrible things, lived life as a wretched person, and still he’d found his desert jewel. More proof that life was, as always, terribly unfair.

Luc had thought he’d known already what love was. He’d thought with Victoria he’d at least felt…something, even if it wasn’t the mate bond. But anything he’d ever felt before paled in comparison to the emotions this human evoked in him, all of it a mere shadow of what he felt for this young mortal.

No onehad ever calmed Luc down from a rage before. Even before their fallout, when Luc had been much more…rational, if Roman had ever tried, it had always led to brawls between the two of them.

And when Roman had left…

Luc had known he was acting without reason, all those years. He’d known his were the actions of a psychopath. Hounding. Stalking. Taunting Roman with the bodies of Luc’s not-so-innocent victims.

But Luc had never been able to stop himself. Even knowing he was tormenting his old friend—hisbrother—to the point of despair hadn’t brought him down from his anger. Every time he’d been tempted to leave it, to start over, his monster had been there, a snake’s voice in his ear, whispering that it wasn’t enough, that Roman couldn’t be left alone after abandoning them.

But Jamie had stopped him.

Had he been scared? Luc hadn’t smelled fear on him. Only concern. Confusion. Desire.

He could hear the rustling sounds of Jamie moving around somewhere behind his back. Luc flipped over on the couch to face him.

Jamie was…painting the living room wall?

Ah yes. Luc had a vague memory of driving his fist through that very spot.

Jamie must have heard Luc’s movements, because he turned around and lifted his paintbrush in greeting. “I found some Spackle in the garage. Fixed it right up.”

He had a spot of white paint on the bridge of his nose. It was so endearing Luc thought his heart might burst in his chest at the sight of it. He hoped it wouldn’t. That organ belonged to Jamie now, and Luc wished to offer it whole.

“I slept.” Luc grimaced at his own words. Of all the inane things to come out of his mouth.

But Jamie only grinned at him, bright and happy. Those white teeth. That crooked incisor. He was like the sun contained in human form. Luc thought he might disintegrate beneath that brightness, nothing but a pile of ashes left behind. He’d welcome it.

He was happy to burn, if it meant even one more second in Jamie’s presence.

“Youdidsleep,” Jamie confirmed. “I tuckered you out.” He winked—cheeky little thing—and set his paintbrush down on a sheet of newspaper he’d spread out onto the floor. “Gotta say, never thought you’d let me top you.”

Luc cleared his throat. “Neither did I. But my monster seemed to like it very much.”

The beast inside him purred its agreement.

“And did you?” Jamie asked, cocking his head to the side.

Luc pondered that. “I wouldn’t…object. If— If it was needed again.”

“Needed again…” Jamie pursed his lips in thought. Did he like the idea? He’d certainly seemed…eager…driving Luc up against the wall earlier.

“How aware were you?” Jamie asked after a moment of mulling over Luc’s words.

“Very,” Luc answered. “When it’s like that…I’m present. I’m conscious. I’m just not in charge, per se. Last time I was that enraged, the monster broke an innocent.”

“He killed someone?” There was no censure in Jamie’s voice. Only wary curiosity.

Luc shook his head. “Broke his arm, tore at his throat. The man survived. He’s mated to another vampire now.”

He was mated to Soren, in fact. Soren, who’d barely ever seemed interested in finding a mate, too preoccupied with his own secrets and mysterious past. It had filled Luc with an unbearable bitterness, finding out the news—he’d run into the little blond menace at a nightclub, of all places—but it was hard to access those bitter feelings now, with the perfect mate of his own right in front of him.

And now Luc had asked Soren for help. He’d been surprised, getting kicked out of Hyde Park, that Soren had even given him his number. The little beast had always hated Luc. But maybe Soren had felt responsible, letting Luc loose on the world, knowing he wasn’t quite in his right mind.

Luc glanced at his phone on the coffee table. No answer yet. Perhaps Soren wouldn’t answer at all. It would be well within his rights to ignore Luc’s request.

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