Chapter 13
Apr 30, 2025
Lyra (Seraphina)
Lucien opened the bedroom door with a loud click, his expression already annoyed.
He didn’t say anything at first—just stepped aside like I was some unwanted guest and not his new wife. But I wasn’t waiting for an invitation. I walked right past him and into the room like I belonged there.
Because I did.
I dropped my small bag by the door, scanned the room once, and said flatly, “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Good,” Lucien muttered as he shut the door behind us. “Neither am I.”
“Perfect,” I replied, walking over to the bed. “You can take the bathtub.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
I turned to face him, arms crossed. “What kind of Alpha lets his mate sleep in a tub?”
Lucien gave a short, bitter laugh, rubbing a hand down his face. “The kind who didn’t choose his mate.”
I shrugged, grabbed a blanket from the chest near the bed, and tossed it into the bathroom without even looking at him. “Well, now you have the perfect view of your poor choices.”
I climbed into the bed and pulled the sheets up to my chin, refusing to let him see the way my fingers trembled beneath the covers. My heart was pounding, but I didn’t show it. Not to him.
Lucien stood there for a second, completely still, like some cartoon character who’d just caught on fire—steam probably about to pour from his ears. His jaw ticked, his arms were stiff, and I could feel the storm rolling inside him.
“You gonna stand there like an angry dragon all night?” I mumbled, not even bothering to open my eyes.
He let out a sharp breath, snarled something under his breath, and stormed into the bathroom.
The door slammed.
I let out a sigh and turned onto my side, hugging the pillow tightly. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how any of it was supposed to be.
I tiptoed across the room, careful not to wake him. I grabbed the blanket I’d given him earlier—the one he clearly hadn’t used—and gently draped it over his shoulders.
He shifted slightly, muttering something under his breath.
“Royalty’s got a mouth,” he mumbled in his sleep.
I rolled my eyes and chuckled softly, pressing the edge of the blanket tighter around him.
“Be grateful I didn’t smother you with it,” I whispered.
Even though I hated how he treated me… I didn’t want him to freeze.
Hypothermia, I reminded myself. That’s the word. The condition when your body gets too cold. Not that I thought the great Lucien Asher could actually die from it—but still.
I turned away from him and walked to the window.
The sky outside was just beginning to lighten, hues of gold and pale blue melting into the edges of night. The forest beyond the walls swayed gently, quiet and peaceful.
My breath fogged the glass as I leaned forward, watching the sun rise.
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