Lucian's POV...
"Hold me tighter, Lucian. Tighter."
Her voice was a breathy whisper against my neck. Her body pressed against mine as we swayed to the music—slow, deliberate, too intimate for a crowded ballroom. Her breath was warm, laced with champagne. Her hands clutched my shoulders like she was afraid I'd vanish.
I knew where this was going. The way her hips ground against mine. The way her eyes, glassy with alcohol and something darker, locked onto me.
She wanted sex.
"I have to leave."
I started to pull away.
"Nooo." Her nails dug into my sleeve. "Take alcohol. It'll help."
A glass appeared in my hand. Amber liquid. I stared at it, then at her. Her eyes glistened with desperation.
"I want to ask you something." My voice was low. Careful. "How did you feel when you knew I didn't love you? Truly. Don't lie."
She was drunk. Too drunk to lie.
"I felt like dying."
The words hit my chest like stones.
"How does it hurt?"
