Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Lucien blushed, fidgeting in discomfort. He remembered the incident now. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.
“He was in your room, feeding you my birthday cake.” Belinda chuckled. “Mother grounded him for a month.”
“She didn’t speak to me for months,” Lucien said, smiling wryly. And never mind that he’d been an innocent party. He’d only been guilty of mentioning something about wanting some cake to Aksel. He’d thought the pieces of cake Aksel had brought him were leftovers from the party, not Belinda’s birthday cake.
Belinda snorted. “I thought it was kind of funny at the time, but in retrospect, it was, like, super weird. My brother gets this… this tunnel vision when it comes to you. Lucien wants cake? He’ll get his cake, and damn everything else. He’s always been like that about you.”
“And you think it’s normal?”
“No,” Belinda said. “That’s why I don’t want that kind of love anymore. It is love, but… love at its scariest. The ‘I’ll die if he dies’ kind.”
Lucien bit the inside of his cheek.
“He hates me now, Bel,” he whispered, his voice cracking. If Belinda couldn’t imagine being the subject of such intense, crippling love, Lucien still struggled living without it. He’d been conditioned to it for twenty years; he’d grown up with it. He didn’t know how much longer he could survive like this. He felt like a plant struggling to survive without the sun. Even when Aksel had been away during the war, Lucien hadn’t felt this bereft: he had still known that Aksel was out there, that he still cared for him, and it had been enough.
Now there was nothing, just Aksel’s cold indifference—and the knowledge that soon he would lose him completely. Irrevocably.
“I doubt that,” Belinda said. “Even if he’s angry with you, I don’t think love like that can ever really fade, no matter how much my brother might wish it. He’s loved you all his life. I doubt he knows how to stop.”
Licking his lips, Lucien looked at her hesitantly. “And you don’t think it’s gross? I mean, I’ve known him since he was a child, Belinda.”
She made a face. “You were a child too. By this logic, people who have known each other since childhood shouldn’t be together. Is my relationship with Micah wrong too?”
“I wasn’t a child,” Lucien said, smiling bitterly. “As far as the law is concerned.”
She scoffed. “I don’t care what the law says—it isn’t right that a fourteen-year-old kid is considered an adult just because he got raped by a bunch of sick assholes.”
Swallowing, Lucien looked away. It was the first time Belinda had ever acknowledged in a straightforward manner what had happened to him. It was a little jarring, but largely relieving, in a twisted sort of way.
“I breastfed him, Bel.”
She scoffed again. “You helped him when he had health issues, with explicit permission of our mother and his doctor. I see nothing wrong with that, especially since he was almost fully grown, not a child. It’s not like you’ve ever considered him your child, right?”
“Of course not,” Lucien said, pulling a face. “With the way he coddled me, I often felt like the child in that relationship.”
“Then what’s the problem? Why is my brother marrying that kid while you’re being a wallflower?”
He hates me now.
I lied to him to protect him, and he’ll never forgive me for calling him a beast or comparing him to the rapists.
If we got together, the scandal would destroy his life.
I hate him for choosing my brother, of all people, as a mate.
Lucien could have said any of those things—and all of them were true.
But the words got stuck in throat, unable to come out.
Because they were just excuses.
The real reason was, deep down, he simply didn’t believe that he could have a happily ever after. He didn’t believe he was worthy of Aksel.
“Leave it, Bel,” he said tonelessly. “Please. Go to your mate. Stop worrying about me and enjoy your happiness.”
Shaking her head, she gave him back his phone and left.
Lucien stared at its screen without really seeing it.
Chapter Seventeen
“Do you really hate me that much now?”
Aksel went still, his fingers gripping the glass of whiskey too tightly. The hour was late, the guests having returned to their rooms a few hours ago. He’d thought everyone else was long in bed by now.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Aksel said, setting the glass down and turning around.
Lucien was still wearing formal clothes from the dinner party, but he looked much more disheveled now, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the collar askew, revealing his pale, unmarked throat.
Aksel looked away before looking into Lucien’s eyes.
They were slightly glazed.
“Right,” Lucien said with a snort. “And you making nice with my dearest daddy means nothing, of course.” His voice was uncharacteristically hard.
“You’re tipsy,” Aksel said, finally registering the bottle in Lucien’s hand.