I am deep in that hazy place between dreams and nothingness when the first crack of gunfire yanks me out of it. My eyes flutter open, heartbeat instantly pounding.
Another fire slit echoes in the air. Then another. I keep my hand over my heart and dart my eyes at the door. I wait for someone to barge into my room and shoot me.
A beat of silence passes; I am about to sigh in relief, but then a whole damn series of sharp and continuous sounds shakes me to the core. I jerk upright, my breath catching, panic clawing through my veins. My first thought isn't even a thought; it is pure instinct. The mansion is under attack.
I throw my blanket aside and swing my legs over the edge; when my warm feet hit the cold floor, it stings. My body is already moving before my brain catches up. I hurry to the window and yank the unnecessarily heavy curtains apart.
My heart stops for a beat. Down on the lawn at a far distance, Clara and Beatrice are standing in dramatic poses like those in a mafia movie, holding guns in their hands, unloading round after round at a neat row of glass bottles lined up on a temporary low wall. Each time one shatters, sunlight catches in the shards like diamonds raining down.
Behind is a whole bunch of army standing in fitted black suits, with black comms in their ears and black sunglasses. Their black glasses make them look more like hitmen than guards.
And then I see him.
Lucien.
Not standing. Sitting. Leaning back in a chair like this is just another Tuesday. One of his hands is holding his phone, while the other is resting on the armrest. He is sitting casually and not even looking at me, but I don't understand why I am feeling a flutter in my belly.
Lucien's eyes, every so often, flick up to watch Clara and Beatrice, then drop right back to whatever he is watching on the screen.
My lungs finally remember how to work. Relief is flooding through me like someone has pulled a plug on the panic. My muscles loosen, and I lean a little on the massive window frame, exhaling slowly.
Jesus, I really thought for a few seconds that it was happening. I woke up to chaos, with bullets flying and blood in the halls and corridors. I don't know why, but now that I know it isn't danger or attack...I want to be down there. With him.
God, why am I even hesitating to call his name in my thoughts?
Maybe it is the adrenaline rushing in my veins. Maybe it is the way Lucien seems so fucking hot because of the power all around him. Or maybe it is something I would rather not name yet.
Anyhow, I turn around, already moving toward the door. I don't bother fixing my hair or changing out of the crinkled tank and loose shorts I have slept in. The urge to be near Lucien is stronger than the urge to look presentable. I have barely taken two steps before something catches my eye.
A lavender dress lies neatly at the foot of my bed. I stop dead, brows pinched together. It isn't just the dress. It is the folded note sitting on top of it. The paper is cream, and the ink is bold and black.
DINNER TONIGHT AT 6:00.
LUCIEN.
I feel a strange sensation in my stomach. I read it again slowly to confirm that it is indeed a dinner invitation.
I look at nothing and blink to recall what Beatrice told me—that they all have dinner together after every three to four months. And we just had dinner last week. So why again?
I look at the dress; it's not just screaming for attention but demanding it. It feels like a dress that you wouldn't wear merely for eating. I reach out, fingers brushing the fabric. A prickle crawls up my spine, not of fear exactly, but something uneasy. Something I can't name.
It can be nothing. Just a whim. Maybe Your Highness wants to have dinner with his circle, as simple as that. Or it can mean something. A crack of another fire echoes and pushes me back from a place that is forbidden for me, yet.
I look at the clock, and it's already 3:30 pm. I rush into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Unbelievably, when I came out, I realized I had spent two hours in there.
I immediately slip into a dress and start getting ready, and today I am putting in extra efforts to look pretty.
I look in the reflection of a mirror and see it's half past six. I curse myself and storm out of my room. The moment I open the door to the dining room once again, I get a surprise. Lucien is sitting alone at the head of the table, clutching red wine, and he looks at me from head to toe.
Lucien is taking a slow sip of his wine; he is looking at me without blinking. "You are late again."
I nod and step inside the dining room. "Yeah, I overslept."
Lucien gulps down his sip, and my eyes catch the bobbing up and down of his Adam's apple. Damn. Why the fuck am I feeling a heat between my legs?
I slide into the chair beside him, and he sets his glass down on the table. "Nobody lies to me in this mansion."
I place both my arms on the table. "Do you actually see me even when I am in my room?"
Lucien shrugs. "Maybe."
I lean back in my chair, arms falling to my side. "That is a complete breach of privacy. You know that, right?"
Lucien nods. "Yeah. But I don't give a fuck." I feel a clench between my thighs due to the finality in his voice.
When food was served, Lucien caught me looking at him a few times with stealing glances. When his staff walks away, He picks up his fork and knife. "So...what do you have in mind?" I feel like he reads my thoughts without saying a word.
I slice into my pork entree and look at him. "Actually, you were right. This is my life now. I gotta let go of my past."
Lucien takes a bite of his roasted duck and chews slowly. "And?"
My fork hovers mid-air, and I look at him. "And now that I am part of your world, I need to learn everything necessary to survive here."
Lucien sets down his fork and knife with a soft clatter. "Get to the point, Anaya."
I drop my cutlery on the plate as well and lock eyes with him. "This morning, when Clara and Beatrice were shooting...I thought the mansion was under attack. I thought someone would come and kill me."
Lucien smirks, but his eyes lock on mine. I continue. "I want to learn how to fight. I don't want to be some helpless lamb waiting to get hunted. I want to fight back hard before I die."
Lucien nods, picks up his cutlery, and begins cutting into the duck. "Consider it done."