Chapter 270
270
270
Lucien’s POV
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The night air was cool, heavy with the lingering scent of asphalt and city smoke. Riley walked beside me, her shadow stretching long under the streetlamps, thin and fragile like she might disappear if I looked away too long.
I halted, my instincts screaming that if I didn’t make her see the truth now, I might lose her to the poison Maddox had tried to pour into her head.
I turned her gently by the shoulders, forcing her to face me. The light caught her profile, gilding her soft features in gold. She looked too breakable for this world, too pure for the venom of a man like him. My chest ached with the need to protect her.
“Don’t listen to him,” I said, voice low but steady. “To me, you’ve always been more than enough. I’m not here to play games with you, Riley.”
The words burned my throat, because I remembered the truth: at first, I had approached her because my grandmother favored her, because I was sick of women clawing at me for status and power. Keeping Riley close had been… convenient.
But somewhere along the way, convenience had turned into something else. Being with her soothed the restless storm inside me. Her quiet, her gentleness, her unshakable honesty-every movement, every smile, carried a pull I couldn’t resist.
Her amber eyes widened faintly at my words. She smiled, but it was thin, strained. “I didn’t take Maddox’s words to heart.”
I didn’t believe her. She’d endured years of scorn, branded a cripple, a convict, less than worthy of anyone’s regard. She wore her scars like armor, but I could see the crack beneath.
And I hated it. I hated that she still thought she wasn’t worthy of me.
Her lashes lowered, hiding her eyes, and my wolf growled deep inside me. That look-the way she folded into herself-meant she was planning something. Distance, Escape.
No.
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Not from me.
“Your leg must hurt after walking this long,” I said softly, crouching without hesitation. “Get on. I’ll carry you.”
She froze. The silence stretched between us, thick with her unshed tears.
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Her family had never cared for her pain. Not Kael Vale, who mocked her limp on the day she was freed. Not Alpha Alaric, who cast her out of Ebonclaw Pack as if her blood meant nothing.
It had always been my family-the Stormridge Pack, my grandmother Matriarch Duskgrave, Mrs. Beck in our kitchens-who saw her, who tried to ease her suffering.
And still, she tried to deny herself even the smallest comfort.
Her voice cracked as she whispered, “Lucien, I—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off, sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t let her speak the words I feared. Words of farewell. “Just… get on.”
After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she did. She leaned into me, light but trembling, her arms settling around my shoulders.
I rose easily, her weight no burden at all. To me, she was precious, not fragile. My wolf pressed closer to the surface, satisfied with the contact, possessive of the way she melted against my back.
The cedar scent of my own skin wrapped around her, and I felt her breathing slow. Her body loosened, sinking into me like she finally trusted the strength that held her.
I carried her down the long stretch of road, step after steady step, and the silence between us was thick but not uncomfortable. She fell asleep against me, her breaths even, her heart beating in rhythm with mine.
By the time Caelum Knox pulled up with the Rolls Royce, Riley was gone to dreams.
I lowered her into the back seat as if she were spun glass, adjusting her until she looked comfortable. My fingers lingered on her cheek longer than they should have, tracing the warmth of her skin.
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Mine. My wolf rumbled in approval.
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But even as I closed the door quietly, a knot coiled tighter in my chest. Because I knew-Riley was already planning to leave me.
And the thought of that… made something primal inside me snarl with defiance.
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