Alistair's jaw tightened. "Get. Out."
Lucian's lips curved higher. "You keep saying that, yet here I am."
Alistair strode closer, his shoulders tense, his presence loud with rage. "I won't warn you again."
Lucian only chuckled. His eyes drifted away from Alistair's glare, sweeping instead toward the far corner of the room—toward the large, neatly made bed, draped in dark silks. His steps carried him there before Alistair could react.
"Stop," Alistair barked, but Lucian ignored him.
He reached the bed and, with graceful ease, lowered himself onto it. The mattress dipped beneath his weight. Lucian leaned back slightly, supporting himself with one hand, testing the feel of it.
"Oh," he said softly, eyes widening with mock delight. "This is soft. No wonder…" He let the pause linger deliberately, gaze sliding back to Alistair. "…your skin looks so delicate."
The words landed like a spark on dry tinder.
