The group spent one more day at the cave before going back to the cottage. She had inquired about what had happened after she was taken, and they were careful to ask about her ordeal, but the only question that they voiced was what happened to the burnt corpses they left behind. Her answer was simple; I don't remember. They hadn't pushed even though the answer hadn't satisfied them.
During the ride, she had noticed how Lucien's hands wrapped tighter around her, his chest pressing her back from the proximity. She had leaned further into him at some point, seeking his warmth and reassurance.
Back at the cottage, Livie continued to heal her, and thanks to her antidote, she was getting better faster. It was a good call on her side to speculate that her captors had used their green drug. She was back on her feet within four days, sparring outside with Lucien, strengthening her limbs, and training her body back to what it was
His friends had left back to their lives, and Livie had left earlier that day, so now it was just her and Lucien alone in the cottage, just like they had once been, but things had changed. To what exactly, she didn't know yet, but she liked it very much.
Their relationship wasn't the only one to have changed somewhere between them leaving for her mission and her being captured; Leo and Mor had grown far closer. Careless touches, fond smiles, loving glances, it was safe to assume they were a couple now, especially after she had accidentally caught them kissing the night before they left. The smile she gave them was so wide, they knew she liked whatever had changed.
Currently, they were having dinner when Lucien suddenly sat up straighter, ears picking up what she couldn't
He cursed, standing up before instructing her out of the house to the back. He didn't have time to explain, only asking that she trust him and to remain very, very quiet. Shadows wrapped around her as soon as he turned his back, and she almost shrieked at them, but they only encased her, protecting and hiding her. It didn't take a genius to know who commanded them—Lucien was a shadow wielder. A rare gift
She was surprised, yes, but the more she thought about it, she realized she had noticed some things, like that day they went to rescue Mor, she could have sworn that she saw shadows moving as they left or before they attacked the caravan. How she had not put two and two together was foolish on her part; she was supposed to take note of everything around her, her eyes and ears were to always remain sharp, and she had gotten comfortable.
She wasn't angry, though; she had her own secrets too, and it was only wise that he had his
Voices drifted towards her, one she could recognize anywhere, the other was also male, though the person sounded older.
"…haven't seen you much?" said the man
"Well, I thought I made it clear I want nothing to do with you," came Lucien's firm voice
"Your father is disappointed at that."
"That's his problem."
The man hummed, "So tell me, how is your little group of friends?"
"Great"
"I have to admit your father and I hoped you'd found better company." Okay, Lyla already knew she didn't like this man
"Luckily, I don't care what you think." Lucien's voice was cool and firm, as if the man was a mere nuisance he wanted to get rid of
"So we have seen many times"
The lantern nearby cast light on the man's face; he was a head shorter than Lucien, his hair a dull shade of black, making it look grey. He seemed to be in his fifties but definitely older. His black eyes scanned the garden, then the trees, before finally looking back at Lucien. He smiled
"I heard you have added someone new to the group. A female? Heard she was working at your bar at some point."
Wait, the bar belonged to Lucien?
The male simply shrugged in response.
"Heard she was pretty, too. Where is she from, though?"
"What's it to you?" came Lucien's response, his voice exhausted
"Just making small talk"
"Why are you here?"
"Your father wanted to know how you were faring."
"I'm sure he knows."
"He would want to talk to you personally, though."
"No"
The man chuckled, "Well then, I should leave. It was wonderful seeing you, son." he turned, leaving, " pass my regards to your friends and the beautiful female, Laura, was it?"
Lucien watched the male leave, and for minutes he stood there. Lyla waited; if the shadows were still up, it meant he didn't trust the man to have left yet. Whoever he is, he knows Lucien well and is closely associated with his father. Lyla knew their relationship was strained, but from the conversation, it seemed far deeper than she realized, making her wonder what had happened to cause such a drift, but if his father was anything close to this man, then she could see why
It was easy to tell the man was not good from the way he talked, to the way he smiled. It was all a facade, and the little threat he ushered as he left made it all the more clear because that was a threat to him, using her and his friends.
Lucien moved to where she was, the shadows falling away the closer he got, until he was now standing so close, their breaths mingled. His face seemed calm, but in his eyes she could see concern and worry, and what she cared for more was the hint of fear in them. She definitely did not like that man.
She raised her hand to his cheek, caressing it slowly. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Her other hand collected his, squeezing in reassurance.
He took a deep breath before opening his eyes and leaning in so that their foreheads touched. Their scents intermingled as they breathed each other in
"Lyla," he whispered. She hummed in response, relishing how good her name sounded on his tongue. She wanted to hear him say it a million times.
He moved, drawing his focus to her face, hand cupping her cheek. How could one person hold so much beauty? His eyes shifted to her lips, and that pull to claim them hit him hard.
A wave of anticipation flowed through her as she watched his gaze linger on her lips. She couldn't help but feel desperate, and if he wasn't going to do it this time, she would
His eyes met hers again, and whatever he saw in them made him cuss before his lips claimed hers. The kiss was desperate, as if they had been waiting their whole lives for this, as if nothing other than this existed, as if they couldn't get enough.
His tongue nudged for entrance, and she readily obliged. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. Her hand tangled in his hair as he held her neck and waist, pulling her closer. A moan escaped her lips, making him growl in response. He could live in this moment forever.
When they finally pulled away, their chests heaved in sync, but neither moved their hands, remaining where they were, the high of their moment more than anything either of them had ever felt.
"Lyla" came her name again, and it told everything he didn't know how to say
"Lucien," she responded, an answer to him, and his name had never sounded better than it did at that moment.