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Calla's POV
"Run." The word hissed through the air, quiet and forceful, sending a shudder down my spine. I halted, my palm tightening on the leather-bound journal I'd unearthed in the dusty west wing of Silverwood Manor. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out the calm of the huge library.
"Did you hear me?" The voice again, low and full of suppressed menace. "Run. Now." I turned, my breath catching. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the flickering light of a single candelabra, stood Lucian Grey. His glittering eyes flashed like molten steel, his body tight, as if barely holding himself back. He was impossibly tall, the sharp angles of his face dark yet shockingly apparent, like an oil painting brought to life.
"I wasn't-" "Don't lie to me, Calla." His voice ripped through my words, as sharp as the wolfish edge in his tone. "I-I just wanted to know what you were hiding." Though it shook, my voice held its ground. "You cannot keep driving me away while hoping I would stay. I have the truth due me."
Lucian came forward, the smell of rain and cedar all around. "The truth?" His laughter was harsh and gloomy. "The truth will wipe you off." "Try me," I said, my frustration driving more confidence. Lucian's eyes softened momentarily, and I saw regret there, suffering? But it vanished as fast as it had first shown.
"You have no idea what you have come upon," His voice now was quieter, tinged with something I couldn't quite identify. "That diary is not only filled with old tales. This is a curse, a death sentence." Though I felt a cold run down my spine, I would not back down.
"Then why let anyone discover it here? Given how perilous it is," "Because it's bait," he said, closing the distance between us in two quick steps. "To attract those unable to resist their interest. People similar to you enjoy this." I pushed back against the cold stone wall of the library, swallowing fiercely. Now he was so close; I could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw strength under his surface placid veneer flickering.
"I didn't ask to be involved in this," I said softly. "I didn't ask for any of this." "You find me to have done it?" His voice cracked, and for a brief instant his burden was exposed. "From me, this curse has claimed everything: my relatives, my freedom. And right now, it is trying to grab you."
My heart hammered, a concoction of terror and something else-something I couldn't name-welling inside me. "Take me how?" The hand of Lucian emerged, his fingers touching my cheek. Though it was feather-light, it burnt through me like wildfire. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, "By making me want you."
At his words, my breath stopped. His confession felt to me like a storm approaching, equal parts terrible and seductive. I could not ignore the magnetic attraction between us, the way his presence occupied every vacant place within me. It wasn't only an attraction, though. It was something darker, more profound connected to the truths he refused to reveal.
I could see the struggle happening in his eyes, his emotions pushed and pulled. Lucian was poised on the brink of something primordial for all his control. And I wasn't sure whether I wanted to let him fall or drag him back. "Lucian..." Though I wasn't sure what, my voice sounded like a plea.
"Don't say my name like that." His voice sounded like a deep growl, and his hand fell away to create a frigid emptiness where his warmth had been. "Like what?" I asked, pushing beyond the lump in my throat and demanded. "Like you are someone worth rescuing?" His laugh lacked comedy and was harsh. "You're not right. I have little worth worth saving. And neither are you if you hang around here."
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