Free Web NovelChapter 45: 45 Moon and Sun
Lucien doesn’t even think—he rushed out from his room, kicking Elian’s door open.
He froze.
How did this happen right next to him and he heard nothing?
Elian lay motionless on his bed, his hair practically soaking the pillow with water like he’d just been pulled out of his bath.
The old healer was there, but that wasn’t what stung Lucien’s heart.
It was Cassian.
He stood beside Elian’s bed like he was his guardian angel, watching him with hurting eyes as if he’d die if anything happened to Elian.
Lucien’s heart sank. He didn’t know why, but it felt like he lost his power by being the last person to know about Elian’s condition. He hated that he thought of these things instead of figuring out what happened to Elian.
Clenching his fists, he marched toward the bed and stood right next to Cassian, almost like he wanted to shove the royal guard away from Elian’s bedside.
"What happened to him?" Lucien asked quietly, his eyes running a quick scan over Elian’s covered body.
"I found him slipped low in the tub, pale and completely passed out—"
"You found him?" Lucien snapped his head to Cassian, his eyes darkening.
"You entered my quarters without my knowledge?" He narrowed his eyes, pinning Cassian with a dangerous look.
However, Lucien couldn’t care less if Cassian walked into his chamber while he slept; he was angry because the image of Cassian finding Elian’s naked and vulnerable body under the water was haunting his head, and it was cutting through his chest like a ninja’s blade.
"Your question overrides the situation, Your Grace—"
"Are you overriding my authority?" Lucien challenged, suddenly feeling sidestepped and irrelevant.
He’d never felt that before, but somehow, when it came to Elian, he was slowly realizing that he wasn’t immune to things he thought he was immune to.
"Silence..." the healer suddenly whispered, placing his hand on Elian’s forehead.
Lucien instantly looked away from Cassian and lowered his gaze to Elian. His brows creased in worry, and he wanted so much to hold Elian’s hand in his, but he couldn’t—not when they were both without gloves, and definitely not in front of others.
He watched the old healer’s fingers threading softly over Elian’s forehead and tapped his foot anxiously.
"How is he doing, Garrick?" he questioned, trying to sound as calm as a Duke would over his attendant.
"He is not responding, Your Grace," Garrick murmured.
Lucien’s face darkened. "What do you mean he is not responding?" he asked, his chest suddenly tightening.
"I do not understand, either. I have tried everything I could. Perhaps we shall call upon the seer to tell if this was meant to be his head—"
"Nonsense!" Lucien snapped, glaring at Garrick with his dark green eyes. "Now, listen to me, old healer. You will make sure to get Elian’s eyes open, if not—"
"Do not threaten the royal—"
"Do not speak when you’re not spoken to!" Lucien suddenly lost it and shoved Cassian hard, sending the poor man falling over the chair behind him.
"Your Grace, please, calm down," Garrick murmured, sighing as he stared at Elian.
Lucien stared at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, and then he stared at Cassian, who was supporting himself with the table beside him to stand up.
He turned away. He couldn’t apologize; even if he was wrong for pushing Cassian, a part of him was satisfied he did it.
"The young man seems to have wanted to end his own life, Your Grace. If you cared for him this much, I doubt we’d be standing here today," Cassian spoke calmly behind Lucien.
"I will go get the seer," Cassian informed and quietly left Elian’s chamber.
"I will go bring more herbs to see if they might help strengthen his senses," Garrick bowed and slowly walked out of the chamber as well.
At the door, Monica stared at Elian for a while before she quietly backed away from the door.
"Monica," Lucien called before the woman could completely leave.
"Yes, Your Grace," she returned to the door, never stepping into the room.
Lucien’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping dangerously low. "The women who prepared his bath. I want them all in that hallway. Now," he ordered.
Monica nodded. "Right away, Your Grace," she said and hurried away.
Finally, Lucien was alone with Elian.
He wasted no time in pulling the chair Cassian had fallen in toward Elian’s bed, lowering himself on it.
He gulped, leaning his elbows on the side of the bed as he stared closely at Elian’s face.
"Did you really try to kill yourself?" he whispered, shutting his eyes as that question settled in his mind.
He gradually realized that it might not be a lie.
Elian really might have wanted to end his life... because of him.
"That’s how much you hate me?" he asked an unresponsive Elian, frowning.
His hand moved downward, hovering over Elian’s hand. Would Elian still read his thoughts even unresponsive? He just wanted to hold him and let Elian feel his warmth—maybe that would bring him back, or maybe, that would send him quicker to the other side.
His touch was the last thing Elian needed at that moment. If Elian was really aiming to end it, then feeling his touch would be the final blow.
He withdrew his hand, curling his fingers into the dampened sheet beside Elian.
"Mm..."
Lucien instantly snapped his head to Elian’s face, and to his ultimate relief, there was a crease on Elian’s brows.
His hand shot down again, almost taking Elian’s hand, but he was able to stop himself before he made that mistake.
"Can you hear me?" Lucien whispered, leaning closer so he could whisper into Elian’s ear, his hand slipping under the sheets to touch Elian’s arm.
"Too loud..." Elian groaned.
A loud sigh left Lucien’s lips. "It’s fucking better to be loud than silent," he murmured, anger suddenly surfacing.
"Why did you try to kill yourself?" he asked, frowning slowly.
Elian could barely make out Lucien’s words; he was still trying to relearn how to listen and assimilate, and Lucien was already throwing tons of questions his way.
"Stop..." Elian murmured, his head banging hard with pain.
Lucien chuckled darkly. "Stop?" He stood from his chair, leaning down so he hovered above Elian’s face. "You have no right to ask me to stop, and had no fucking right to try and take your life!" He punched the empty space beside Elian’s head, veins popping out from the sides of his head in anger.
Elian stilled, his breath snagging in his throat as he felt the hard punch beside his head, but what scared him more was the dark look on Lucien’s face. But he wasn’t scared because he thought Lucien would hurt him; he was scared because, for the very first time, he was starting to see that there might be a human inside Lucien, and a human Lucien might just be more dangerous than the monster Lucien.
"I’m fine..." Elian whispered, slowly moving his hand upward to hold Lucien’s wrist.
Lucien was shaking—fear, shock, anger, he didn’t know which was greater, but he knew one thing... if Elian died today... things might get more ugly for everyone around him, and he meant everyone. Feeling Elian’s soft hand around his wrist seemed to absorb all those raging emotions, because in the next second, he was lowering his head to Elian, pressing their foreheads together.
"You have no right to die, Elian, not without my permission... which I’m never giving," he murmured huskily.
Elian felt his heart flutter violently with that tingly sensation he always tried to avoid. He darted his tongue out, licking his dry lips. "I really did not want to kill myself—"
"Everyone leaves, Elian... but I’m not letting you leave, too. Not when I can control it," Lucien said lowly, his nose brushing Elian’s.
"You’re not listening—"
"I don’t want to," Lucien whispered and pressed his lips softly against Elian’s.
Elian’s eyes fluttered shut instantly, welcoming that soft, beautiful feeling against his lips. It was a nice contrast from the cold he felt all over his body.
Lucien’s lips moved very slowly, as if Elian’s lips were a wine he was leisurely tasting. He didn’t push his tongue in, just licked across Elian’s lips like a dog lapping lazily at his water.
He couldn’t. He couldn’t let Elian kill himself. Not when he needed him like the plants needed the sun.
Some people might call Elian their moon, but to him, Elian was starting to become his sun.
Slowly, Elian moved his face away, his breathing shallow and cheeks flushed crimson.
Lucien frowned. "What?" he asked hoarsely, his voice filled with restraint and desire.
"People might see," Elian reminded.
They shouldn’t be kissing—at least, not in the King’s castle of all places.
Lucien was about to convince him otherwise when he heard Monica’s and Rowena’s voices in the hallway.
He sighed, slowly withdrawing back to his chair, but he never stopped staring at Elian. His dark green eyes burned with the terrifying realization of just how easily his "chosen destruction" almost slipped through his fingers.
