The grand staircase appears ahead of me, and I practically run down it, desperate for fresh air and escape. I’ve almost reached the massive front doors when a hand closes around my upper arm, yanking me to a stop.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Lucien’s voice is low, dangerous, wrapping around me like barbed wire. It bites into my flesh, and I can feel myself suffocating by it, by him.
I try to jerk free, but his grip is unbreakable. “Home. Let go of me.”
“Home?” He laughs, the sound echoing in the cavernous foyer. “You are home, Little Sinner.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, aware that we’re drawing attention from nearby guests. “This isn’t my home, and you’re not my keeper.”
His fingers tighten painfully. “That mark on your throat says otherwise.”
I reach up to touch the spot where his blood dried on my skin. It feels warm, almost pulsing. “This sick game you’re playing doesn’t change anything. We’re fucking siblings, Lucien.”
“Half-siblings,” he corrects with a smirk that makes me want to slap him. “And I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine now.”
“I am not yours.” I spit the words at him, not caring who hears. “I never will be. Now let me go before I scream.”
Lucien’s eyes darken as he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “Scream. Go ahead. See what happens, Seraphina.” His voice drops even lower, a dangerous rumble thatvibrates through my bones. “We both know no one here will do shit. They wouldn’t even if I wasn’t a Devereux. But your scream?” He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes, his lips curling into a predatory smile. “It might just turn me on. Do you want to tease me? If so, by all means, go ahead.”
I open my mouth, ready to let loose the most blood-curdling shriek this mansion has ever heard, but something in his gaze stops me. The naked hunger there, the way his pupils dilate as he watches my lips part. He’s not bluffing. The sick fuck would probably get off on my public meltdown.
“You’re disgusting,” I whisper instead, my voice shaking with rage.
“And you’re mine,” he counters, his grip loosening slightly as he guides me toward a side door. “Marked and Chosen. I’ll keep saying it until it sinks in. Deal with it.”
Before I can form a retort, he’s pulling me through the door and suddenly we’re outside. The October air hits me finally, cool and crisp and so fucking welcome after the suffocating atmosphere inside. I gulp it down in desperate breaths, feeling it fill my lungs and clear my head. It washes over my flushed skin, and I hate that it’s exactly what I needed.
I hate even more that Lucien somehow knew that.
He stands back, watching me with those predator eyes as I center myself. The garden is dimly lit by small path lights, casting everything in shadows and silver. Away from the crowd, away from the ceremony, I feel like I can finally breathe again.
“Better?” he asks, and there’s something almost gentle in his tone that throws me completely off balance.
I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but he cuts me off.
“Come on,” he says, gesturing toward the driveway where I can see his sleek black car waiting. “I’ll take you back to your dorm room.”
I blink at him, suspicious. “Just like that? You’re letting me go?”
His laugh is low, dangerous. “I didn’t say I was letting you go, Little Sinner. I said I’m taking you back to your dorm.”
“Why?” I narrow my eyes, searching his face for the trap. “What’s your angle?”
“No angle.” He shrugs, the movement fluid and controlled like everything else about him. “You need space to process. I’m giving it to you.”
I don’t buy it for a second. Lucien Devereux doesn’t do anything without a calculated purpose.
“I can get there myself,” I finally say, my voice steadier than I feel. “I don’t need you to drive me anywhere.”
He laughs, low and almost sinister, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Yeah, no.”
“I’m not getting in a fucking car with you,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. The mark on my throat pulses like a second heartbeat, reminding me of what just happened inside.
“Yes the fuck you are,” he says, stepping closer until I can smell his cologne again, “or we can go back inside and I’ll just lock you in my childhood bedroom.” His eyes rake over me, hungry and possessive. “Would you like that? Would you like to be locked in my room at this pretentious ass house?”
His voice drops even lower, cruel and cutting. “Maybe I’ll even show you the rooms that belong to the Devereux daughter my mother never had...” He tilts his head, watching the pain flash across my face. “My father had her though, didn’t he? And yet she never got to live in this house.”
The words hit me in the vilest way. I take a step back, my hands curling into fists at my sides.
