Chapter 1&2
CHAPTER ONE&TWO
The bells of Mordane Palace rang long after midnight.
Not for celebration.
For punishment.
Rain crashed violently against the palace windows while servants hurried silently through endless candlelit corridors, careful not to speak too loudly. Fear lived inside these walls like another servant.
And tonight—
Fear had a name.
Lucien Mordane.
Seraphina Vale stood inside a lavish chamber overlooking the black sea cliffs, her wrists bruised from silver restraints.
The room itself was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Golden mirrors. Velvet curtains. A massive fireplace burning softly against the cold.
But locked doors still made it a prison.
Seraphina paced angrily across the room before grabbing a silver vase and throwing it hard against the wall.
It shattered instantly.
“Feel better?”
Her body stiffened.
Lucien stood near the doorway, black coat damp from rainwater, gray eyes watching her calmly.
She hadn’t even heard the door open.
Seraphina glared. “Do you enjoy sneaking around like a ghost?”
“I enjoy watching people reveal themselves when they think no one is looking.”
His voice remained smooth. Controlled.
Always controlled.
Lucien stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him.
Locking it.
The sound echoed heavily.
Seraphina noticed immediately.
“Afraid I’ll escape?”
“No.”
He removed his gloves slowly.
“I’m afraid someone else might find you first.”
Something about the way he said it made unease crawl through her chest.
Lucien approached her with terrifying calmness, his gaze lowering briefly toward the blood dripping from her palm where glass had sliced her skin.
“You’re bleeding again.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m curious.”
That answer unsettled her more than anger would have.
Lucien stopped directly before her.
Close enough to touch.
Close enough for Seraphina to notice faint bloodstains near the collar of his white shirt beneath the coat.
Fresh blood.
Not hers.
“Did you kill someone tonight?” she asked coldly.
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
“Yes.”
No guilt. No hesitation.
Just truth.
Seraphina looked away first.
Not because she feared him.
Because she hated how normal he made violence sound.
Lucien’s fingers suddenly wrapped around her injured hand before she could pull away.
Pain shot through her palm.
Seraphina hissed sharply.
“Let go.”
Instead, Lucien lifted her hand closer, studying the blood slowly sliding across her skin.
His eyes darkened slightly.
“You heal strangely fast.”
Panic flickered briefly across her face.
Dangerous mistake.
Lucien noticed instantly.
“There it is again,” he murmured softly.
“That look.”
Seraphina yanked her hand free violently.
“You stare too much.”
“And you lie too easily.”
The room fell silent.
Rain hammered outside.
Lucien stepped closer.
One step.
Then another.
Until Seraphina’s back nearly touched the wall.
“You were at the harbor during the massacre,” he said quietly.
“I already told your guards I saw nothing.”
“Three soldiers were found torn apart.”
His voice lowered slightly.
“Their ribs looked clawed open.”
Cold fear crawled beneath her skin.
Lucien’s eyes never left her face.
“You know what interests me most?” he asked softly.
She forced herself to remain calm. “Your own reflection?”
For the first time—
Lucien smiled.
Small. Dangerous.
Then suddenly his hand slammed beside her head against the wall hard enough to crack the wood paneling.
Seraphina flinched despite herself.
Lucien leaned down close enough for his breath to brush her ear.
“I enjoy brave girls,” he whispered.
His voice turned colder.
“But eventually…”
His fingers slowly wrapped around her throat.
“…they all learn fear.”
Pressure tightened.
Not enough to kill.
Enough to control.
Seraphina grabbed his wrist immediately, glaring at him with burning hatred even while struggling for breath.
Most women cried.
Most begged.
She looked ready to stab him instead.
And somehow—
Lucien found that fascinating.
His eyes lowered briefly to her lips before returning to her furious gaze.
“You should hate me,” he murmured almost thoughtfully.
“I already do.”
“Good.”
His grip tightened slightly.
“Because hatred survives much longer than love inside this palace.”
Then screams suddenly echoed somewhere deep in the corridor outside.
A woman.
Begging.
Seraphina froze.
Lucien released her instantly.
The emotion vanished from his face completely.
A servant burst into the room seconds later, trembling violently.
“My lord—!”
He stopped after noticing Seraphina.
Lucien’s voice turned icy.
“Speak.”
“The prisoner in the east chamber escaped restraints…”
Silence.
Then the servant whispered shakily,
“…Lady Evelynn is dead.”
The room became still.
Seraphina watched something dark shift behind Lucien’s eyes.
Not grief.
Not shock.
Something colder.
More dangerous.
Lucien slowly pulled his gloves back on.
Then looked toward Seraphina one last time.
“Do not leave this room,” he said calmly.
She folded her arms. “Or what?”
Lucien stared at her for several long seconds.
Then he answered softly,
“Or you may see what kind of monster I truly am.”
The moment Lucien Mordane left the chamber, the warmth disappeared with him.
Seraphina Vale stood motionless near the wall, fingers unconsciously rubbing the bruises forming around her throat.
She hated him.
Hated the way his presence consumed every room.
Hated the way fear followed him like perfume.
And worst of all—
She hated the dangerous heat that crawled beneath her skin whenever he looked at her too long.
The palace suddenly erupted into chaos outside.
Footsteps. Shouting. Metal clashing.
Then screaming.
Seraphina moved toward the door instantly.
The guards stationed outside crossed their weapons before she could step into the corridor.
“My lord ordered you to remain inside.”
“And if I don’t listen?”
Neither guard answered.
That told her enough.
Seraphina stepped backward slowly, pretending surrender.
Then grabbed a silver candleholder from the nearby table and smashed it directly into one guard’s face.
The man cursed loudly as blood exploded from his nose.
Before the second guard could react, Seraphina drove her knee into his stomach hard enough to make him stumble backward.
She ran.
Barefoot against cold marble floors.
Long corridors stretched endlessly through Mordane Palace while terrified servants pressed themselves against walls to avoid her. Somewhere nearby, another scream echoed sharply.
A woman.
Then silence.
Seraphina’s pulse quickened.
The deeper she moved into the eastern wing, the colder the palace became. Candles flickered violently in iron holders. Red carpets darkened beneath muddy footprints and streaks of blood.
Fresh blood.
Something terrible had happened here.
Then she saw the body.
A noblewoman sprawled across the corridor floor in a white silk gown soaked crimson beneath candlelight.
Lady Evelynn Armand.
Her throat had been torn open so brutally that blood still spread slowly across the marble beneath her body.
Seraphina stopped breathing for a moment.
Not from fear.
From shock.
The woman’s eyes remained open.
Frozen in terror.
A sound behind her made her spin instantly.
Lucien stood at the far end of the corridor.
Blood stained one side of his face.
His black coat dragged slightly behind him as he walked toward her with terrifying calmness.
Not rushed.
Not panicked.
Like death itself had learned elegance.
Seraphina swallowed hard.
“You killed her.”
Lucien’s expression didn’t change.
“She was already dying when I arrived.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t particularly care what you believe.”
His voice remained smooth despite the blood covering him.
That frightened her more than rage would have.
Lucien stopped beside Evelynn’s corpse and crouched slowly, gloved fingers brushing the dead woman’s jaw upward.
“She was frightened before she died,” he murmured.
Seraphina stared at him in disbelief. “How tragic.”
Lucien looked up sharply.
For a second, something dangerous flickered behind his eyes.
Then—
He smiled faintly.
Cruel.
“You really should learn when to stay silent.”
Seraphina crossed her arms. “You really should stop threatening people every time your feelings get hurt.”
The corridor fell deathly still.
Even the servants nearby froze.
Lucien rose slowly to his feet.
His gaze locked onto hers.
Cold.
Predatory.
Then he began walking toward her.
One slow step at a time.
Seraphina refused to move.
Even when he stopped directly in front of her.
Even when blood from his gloves stained the white silk sleeve of her dress after he grabbed her arm suddenly.
Hard.
Pain shot through her instantly.
“You enjoy provoking me,” Lucien said softly.
“You make it easy.”
Wrong answer.
Lucien shoved her violently against the palace wall.
Seraphina gasped as marble struck her back painfully.
His hand wrapped around her throat again.
Not enough to crush.
Enough to remind her how easily he could.
“You think bravery makes you untouchable?” he whispered near her face.
His gray eyes looked almost black in the candlelight now.
“Eventually your mouth will become dangerous for you.”
Seraphina glared despite the pressure cutting off air.
“Then cut out my tongue.”
The words hung between them.
Lucien stared at her.
And suddenly—
Something changed in his expression.
Not softness.
Never softness.
Something darker.
Obsession.
His thumb brushed slowly against the side of her throat where bruises bloomed beneath pale skin.
Then his gaze lowered.
A thin line of blood slid down Seraphina’s arm from where broken glass earlier had reopened her cut.
Lucien watched it carefully.
Too carefully.
His fingers pressed against the bleeding wound suddenly.
Seraphina hissed in pain.
But Lucien didn’t let go.
Instead, he rubbed the blood slowly between his gloved fingers while staring directly at her.
Like he enjoyed seeing her hurt.
Like her pain fascinated him.
“You bleed beautifully,” he murmured quietly.
A chill ran through Seraphina.
Not fear.
Something worse.
Because for the first time—
She realized Lucien Mordane was not trying to break her quickly.
He intended to destroy her slowly.
