The air in Lucias's office was thick with the scent of smoke and rage. Papers scattered across the marble floor like fallen feathers, a silent testament to the argument that had started thirty minutes ago and refused to die.
Kai stood near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the city burning beneath the horizon. His reflection in the glass looked calm — but Lucias could see the tremor in his hand.
"Do you ever think before acting?" Lucias's voice was low, dangerous. "You could have been killed, Kai."
Kai turned slowly. "And what would you care?" His tone was ice — cutting, clean, and deliberate. "You don't own me, Lucias."
Lucias's lips curved, humorless. "Don't I?"
The silence that followed wasn't empty — it vibrated with the weight of everything unspoken.
Kai's laugh was sharp. "You think because you saved me once, you have the right to chain me here? You're not my savior. You're a prison with expensive walls."
Lucias closed the distance in three slow, deliberate steps. "You call it a prison," he murmured, "but you haven't tried to leave."
Kai's throat bobbed. "Because you'd have me dragged back."
Lucias leaned closer, voice almost a whisper now. "Because you want to stay."
That did it — Kai's composure cracked. He shoved Lucias hard, his palm colliding with the older man's chest. "You think everything bends to your will," Kai hissed. "That everyone breaks the way you want them to. But I'm not your toy."
Lucias caught his wrist before he could pull away. "You're right," he said quietly. "You're not my toy." His grip tightened just enough to make Kai's breath catch. "You're the only one who's ever fought me back."
Their eyes locked — fire meeting frost. The tension between them wasn't hatred anymore; it was something more dangerous. Something alive.
Kai's voice faltered, softer now. "Then stop trying to control me."
Lucias leaned in, his breath brushing Kai's ear. "I'm not trying to control you," he said, tone like velvet and sin. "I'm trying to understand why the hell I can't stop thinking about you."
The words hit harder than any slap could. Kai's breath hitched, the anger fading into confusion — and something darker. Something that frightened him more than Lucias's power ever could.
"You shouldn't say things you don't mean," Kai whispered.
Lucias smiled faintly. "I've killed men for less than the way you look at me right now."
Before Kai could respond, Lucias's hand slid from his wrist to his jaw, tilting his face upward. The room felt suddenly smaller, hotter. Every sound — the tick of the clock, the distant thunder — disappeared.
For a heartbeat, neither moved.
Then Kai spoke, voice trembling despite himself. "If you kiss me, you'll regret it."
Lucias's lips hovered a breath away. "I already do."
And then fire met ice.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't supposed to be. The kiss was a collision — fury, hunger, defiance. Kai pushed back, refusing to yield, even as Lucias deepened the contact, as if trying to consume the distance between them entirely.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard. A thin line of blood glimmered on Kai's lip where Lucias's teeth had grazed him.
Lucias reached out, thumb brushing it away. "You taste like defiance."
Kai's reply came soft, dangerous. "And you taste like control."
Lucias laughed under his breath, low and rough. "Maybe that's why we burn."
For a moment, they just stood there — fire and ice balanced on a knife's edge. Then Kai stepped back, voice steadier than it should've been.
"This doesn't change anything," he said.
Lucias's eyes softened, the faintest smirk curving his lips. "No," he said. "But it changes everything you feel."
Kai turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the flush creeping up his neck. He grabbed the door handle and paused, voice barely above a whisper.
"One day," he said, "you'll regret wanting me."
Lucias watched him go, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "You assume I haven't already," he murmured.
The door slammed shut, leaving Lucias alone — the scent of smoke, the ghost of a kiss, and a war he was no longer sure he could win.
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