CHAPTER 94: NEW JOURNEY!

Lucien shot to his feet, his blood roaring in his ears. He stormed forward, shoving past a startled noble who gasped at his audacity. "Where is he?!" Lucien’s voice cracked across the courtyard like thunder, raw and desperate.

The nobles fell silent, their eyes darting between Lucien and his father. Whispers rippled through the group, but Lucien didn’t care. His gaze was locked on Evan, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles bled anew.

Evan raised a single brow, his expression calm but laced with disdain. "You dare raise your voice here?" he said, his voice smooth and cold, like a blade sliding from its sheath.

"I want Rin," Lucien said, his voice hoarse, trembling with barely contained rage. "Give him back to me."

The nobles muttered among themselves, their whispers sharp and judgmental. Evan raised a hand, and they fell silent instantly. "Excuse us," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The nobles bowed and scattered, leaving father and son alone in the courtyard. Lucien’s heart pounded, his throat tight as he waited for Evan to speak.

"Speak quickly," Evan said, his voice cold as steel, "or I’ll slam your head into the ground myself."

Lucien’s jaw tightened, but he forced the words out. "I’ll do it," he said, his voice low and desperate. "I’ll become your heir. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. But Rin... he’s mine. You have to give him back."

For a moment, Evan just stared at him, his grey eyes unreadable. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter... a sharp, cruel sound that echoed through the empty courtyard. Lucien’s heart sank, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Why are you laughing, Father?" Lucien demanded, his voice rising. "Why can’t I have him? You’re just going to throw him into your Game, aren’t you? Another pawn for your twisted plans!"

Evan’s laughter stopped as abruptly as it began. His hand shot forward, faster than Lucien could react, grabbing his collar and yanking him close. Their faces were inches apart, Evan’s eyes glinting with a cold, predatory hunger.

"No matter what you say," Evan whispered, his breath icy against Lucien’s face, "you will be my heir. That is your fate." His grip tightened, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "And Rin... Rin is not a toy for the Game. He is my most special plaything."

Lucien’s vision swam red, rage and despair crashing over him like a tidal wave.

"You...!" he started, but Evan shoved him back, releasing him as if he were nothing.

"Report to the estate," Evan said simply, turning away. "I leave tonight. There is much to prepare. The next Game begins soon, and as my heir, you’d better be there."

Lucien’s knees nearly buckled. He stood there, trembling, his fists clenched so tightly his nails drew blood. "This isn’t your fault..." he whispered, his voice raw and broken. "This is Julian’s fault. That fucking bastard..."

He cursed until his throat burned, until his voice was nothing but a hoarse rasp. The courtyard was empty now, the nobles gone, the cheers from the hall faded. All that remained was the weight of his failure, crushing him.

.

.

Meanwhile, Evan approached the black carriage, his steps measured and deliberate. The enforcers snapped to attention, their faces stiff with respect. One of them saluted, but Evan ignored him, his eyes fixed on the carriage door.

"Where is he?" Evan asked, his voice low but commanding.

The head enforcer stepped forward, his scar catching the torchlight. "Inside, my lord," he said, gesturing to the door.

The enforcer opened it, and Evan’s gaze softened... just for a moment... as he saw Rin. The boy was curled against the seat, his small body hunched and trembling. His hands were bound tightly behind him, the silver collar gleaming around his throat. His face was pale, tear stains streaking his cheeks, his white hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Evan’s lips curved into a faint, almost tender smile. He slipped off one glove, his movements slow and deliberate, and reached out to touch Rin’s face. His fingers traced the curve of his cheek, the soft line of his lips, the fragile column of his throat. Rin didn’t stir, his breathing shallow but steady. Evan’s touch lingered, almost reverent, until he noticed the enforcers watching. His expression hardened, and he pulled his hand back, sliding the glove back on with a snap.

The head enforcer cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Lord Evan, a separate carriage has been prepared for you."

"No," Evan said, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving Rin. "I shall ride with him."

The enforcer hesitated, his gaze flickering to Rin. He opened his mouth, perhaps to protest that Rin was a criminal, that this was highly irregular, but one look at Evan’s face silenced him. He’d never seen Lord Vortellion treat anyone... let alone a prisoner... with such care.

"I understand, Your Grace," the enforcer said quickly, stepping back.

Evan climbed into the carriage, his movements graceful and predatory. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, the wheels creaking as the carriage began to move. The journey to the capital would take days, and Evan had no intention of using a teleportation scroll. Not with Rin in his grasp. He wanted this moment, every second of it, to last.

Inside the carriage, Evan settled into the seat across from Rin, his eyes fixed on the boy’s fragile form. The torchlight filtering through the small window cast flickering shadows across Rin’s face, highlighting the bruises blooming on his skin, the faint tremble of his lips. Evan leaned forward, his gloved hands resting on his knees, and watched.

"You’re stronger than you look," he murmured, his voice soft, almost intimate. "But strength alone won’t save you. Not from me, Rin."

Rin didn’t respond; his unconscious form was unaware of the predator sitting so close. The carriage rocked gently, the sound of the wheels and the clop of hooves filling the silence. Evan’s faint smile returned, to his face as he leaned back, ready to wait till they reached the estate.

But... the journey had begun.