CHAPTER 238: _YOU’VE GOT ELIAN NOW

Lucian’s POV

*****

The announcement hung in the air like smoke that refused to fade.

Aurora was moving out.

Lucian could still feel the silence that followed her words — the kind that made every heart in the room skip a beat. His fork had barely touched his plate.

Across from him, Elowen’s eyes glistened, lips parted but unable to form a response. Kyren sat motionless, expression unreadable, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

"You’re... moving out?" Lucian finally asked, his voice quieter than he expected. "Where would you even stay? Aurora, Garrick’s still out there."

She met his gaze steadily.

"Garrick’s probably already out of Lunaria by now," she said, tone soft but resolute. "Besides, the palace is practically a Dark Hand hotbed. If there’s anywhere I don’t feel safe right now, it’s here."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "Aurora—"

She raised a hand, cutting him off gently. "Lucian, I need this. I need to heal from Father’s death... from everything. Staying here, walking through his halls, smelling the same cologne in his study—it’s suffocating."

Elowen sniffled, pressing a napkin to her lips. "But your room, dear, it’s always been your haven. You don’t have to—"

Aurora turned toward her mother and smiled faintly. "It still will be. I just... need a little distance for now." Her voice softened. "I’ll be staying with Seraphyne."

Lucian followed her glance toward the girl from the industrial district. Seraphyne’s hand was wrapped around Aurora’s beneath the table — a silent promise.

He swallowed hard. "With Seraphyne?"

Aurora nodded, squeezing her mate’s hand. "She understands what it’s like to lose someone important. And I can’t keep hiding behind palace walls, Lucian. You’re the Crown Prince now. You need to stand tall without me holding your hand."

That hit deeper than he expected.

His throat ached.

Aurora had always been the one who grounded him — the voice that told him when he was being an arrogant brat, or when he’d hurt someone without meaning to.

Without her, he wasn’t sure how steady he’d remain.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Even Kyren remained silent, eyes flicking between them as though searching for a crack in Aurora’s resolve.

Then, she exhaled softly. "But before I go... We’ll still have breakfast together. One last time as a family."

Elowen’s lips trembled into a smile. "One last time," she repeated.

The tension thinned slightly.

Plates were passed, and conversation resumed in fragments. Elowen eventually asked how they found out they were mates — a question that drew shy glances between Aurora and Seraphyne.

"I’ve always had a hunch since we first met," Aurora admitted, laughter mingling with memory. "But a little moment we shared outside helped... confirm it."

Seraphyne smirked. "If only you asked me out that first time. At the hotel."

"You could’ve done the same," Aurora teased, and everyone chuckled.

Even Kyren’s lips twitched.

For a brief moment, the heaviness lifted. They were family again, laughing between bites of fruit and pastries, pretending the world outside wasn’t broken.

And then, as all mornings must, it faded.

.

.

The palace courtyard glowed beneath the soft morning sun, marble paths gleaming like silver threads.

Lucian walked beside his sister in silence, hands tucked behind his back. Every few steps, her shoulder brushed his — a quiet reminder of years spent side by side.

Behind them, Seraphyne followed at a respectful distance.

"So," Aurora began, her voice light, "how are you really holding up?"

Lucian sighed. "Define ’holding up.’"

She laughed softly. "There’s my brother." Her tone turned more serious. "I mean it, though. You’ve changed. Father would’ve been proud."

He looked down at her, unsure how to respond. "I doubt that. He barely had time to see any change in me before he..." The word died in his throat.

Aurora didn’t press.

She slipped her arm through his instead. "You’ve grown into a man who questions himself. That’s something even Father struggled to do."

Lucian’s lips twitched, somewhere between a smile and a grimace. "You make it sound noble."

"It is."

They reached the edge of the courtyard where the aether craft waited.

It was sleek and silver, hovering a few inches off the ground, its energy field shimmering faintly. Guards loaded the last of Aurora’s belongings inside, stepping back when Seraphyne approached.

Lucian’s chest tightened. "You really don’t have to do this."

"I do." Aurora turned to face him fully. "You’ll manage. You always do."

"I’m supposed to make an official statement tonight," he said suddenly. "About Father’s death. The Council wants me to appear before the empire at dusk."

His fingers flexed at his side. "I need you there."

Her expression softened. "Lucian..."

He looked away, jaw set. "You’re the only one who can keep me from saying something I’ll regret."

Aurora chuckled. "You’ve got Elian now. He’ll remind you to breathe."

He blinked at her, but she only grinned — that same mischievous smile she’d worn as a child when she dared him to sneak out past curfew.

"I mean it," she said gently. "You don’t need me beside you to do what’s right anymore. You’ve already become that person."

He swallowed. "You really believe that?"

"I do. And I’m proud of you, Lucian." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You’re going to be a great Alpha king someday."

The words hit like sunlight on a cold day — soft, blinding, and fleeting.

Seraphyne approached, eyes meeting his in quiet understanding. "We’ll take care of each other," she said.

Lucian nodded, unable to trust his voice.

Aurora pulled back, taking Seraphyne’s hand. "Call me if you need to yell at someone or drown in self-pity. I’ll answer — eventually."

He let out a breath of laughter. "I’ll hold you to that."

The aether craft’s hatch opened with a soft hiss. Aurora climbed aboard, turning to wave at him once before the doors closed.

The craft lifted smoothly, thrumming with faint energy as it ascended past the palace gates. The sunlight caught its metallic frame, turning it into a streak of silver disappearing beyond the horizon.

Lucian stood there long after it was gone, hands in his pockets, heart heavy but strangely calm.

He thought of their father — of the man who’d ruled the empire with equal parts steel and sorrow. Of the last thing he’d whispered before dying.

’Find your brother.’

Lucian closed his eyes, letting the words echo inside him like a vow.

"I will," he murmured to the empty courtyard. "I’ll find him."

The wind carried his promise away.