CHAPTER 200: CHAPTER 200: LOSING CONTROL

Serena’s POV~

Lucian froze, a sound...half-gasp, half-sob...caught in his throat. His lips were cold and trembling against mine for only a split second before the shock burned away, replaced by something fierce and hungry.

The desperation I had seen simmering in his eyes erupted, and he didn’t just respond; he devoured the moment.

His arms instantly locked around my waist, tightening with a crushing force that lifted me slightly off my feet and pressed our bodies together against the cold wall.

It was a kiss fueled not by gentleness or tenderness, but by pain, fury, years of crushing absence, and undeniable longing.

It was a confession.

The single wall of control Lucian had desperately held up during the entire dinner...the polite smiles, the cold indifference...shattered entirely.

He tilted my head, deepening the contact, pouring all his raw, choked-back misery and longing into the desperate contact.

I felt the wetness of his tears still clinging to his skin, mingling with the frantic urgency of his mouth against mine.

My own resistance, that stubborn wall of self-preservation I had built over the years, cracked wide open.

I clung to him, not to push him away, but to anchor myself to the only thing in this suffocating palace that felt remotely real.

My fingers left his shirt and tangled in the thick silk of his hair, pulling him closer still, trying to melt the inches between us, trying to find the boy I knew beneath the veneer of the cold man.

The darkness of the small room, the rough texture of the wall behind me, the suffocating sound of our combined, ragged breathing...it all faded into background noise.

There was only the fire of his touch, the taste of salt and desperation on his lips, and the thrumming, agonizing realization that every lie, every distance, every deliberate cold word spoken over the last few years had been for nothing.

We were exactly where we had always been: lost in each other’s orbit, incapable of escaping.

He shifted, his hands moving from my waist up my spine, pulling the delicate fabric of my gown tighter, seeking purchase, seeking me.

He pressed his forehead against mine for a breathless moment, a sound of profound relief rumbling low in his chest before his lips found mine again, softer this time, a quiet, almost pleading inquiry that immediately gave way to another consuming rush of passion.

"Selene," he murmured against my mouth, the name a painful, private secret shared only between us and the shadows. "Don’t you dare leave again."

The consuming, desperate contact finally broke, leaving us both gasping for air in the silent, suffocating darkness.

Lucian’s grip loosened, but his head remained nestled against my shoulder, his breathing ragged and deep.

I couldn’t bear the raw, broken sound of him anymore. My hands, which had been clutching his hair, drifted down to cup his face again, my thumbs gently tracing the path of the tears that still streamed silently.

"Lucian," I whispered, pulling his head back slightly so I could see his hazy, dark eyes in the gloom. I leaned in, placing soft, reverent kisses across his wet cheeks, tasting the salt of his pain.

"I am not going anymore," I murmured against his temple, the words barely a breath. "Just give me a little time... I will make everything right."

The instant those words left my lips...the first true, selfless promise I’d made to him in years... Lucian was completely shattered.

The residual tension in his body snapped. He didn’t cry louder; he simply melted, his whole frame slumping against me, the protective rigidity gone.

He was vulnerable, terrifyingly so, just the broken boy who had believed every word I’d ever told him.

He inhaled sharply, and then he was moving, his hands burying themselves in my hair, tilting my head back against the wall once more.

He didn’t kiss my lips. Instead, his mouth travelled across my face...a frantic series of punishing, worshipping kisses. He kissed my jawline, my cheekbones, and the corner of my eyes, like a man mapping a lost and beloved territory.

Then, his focus shifted. He found the taut curve of my neck, where the tight collar of the gown choked me. His lips pressed hot and hard against the delicate skin there, seeking release, seeking deeper contact.

The low sound he made vibrated against my skin, sending a violent shudder through me.

He lingered, tasting, pulling small gasps from my throat. One of his hands slipped from my hair and found the zipper hidden discreetly in the back of the gown.

Without breaking the intimate contact on my neck, his fingers fumbled with the tiny mechanism, the sound muffled by the thick fabric of the dress and the racing pulse in my ears.

The zipper slid down slowly, an agonizing, electric sound that felt deafening in the silence. The neckline loosened, and he finally had access.

His mouth moved lower, descending past my collarbone and onto the newly exposed skin.

His breath was hot, his intention clear. I couldn’t form a coherent thought, only a primal, needy sound.

My fingers dug into the fabric of his coat, holding him steady as the suffocating tension of the entire evening finally found a desperate, consuming release in the dark.

Lucian’s breath was a hot, desperate current against my neck, and the slight tug of the undone zipper was the only thing separating me from utter, irrevocable exposure.

In the consuming haze of the moment, I felt his body tense...not with passion, but with a sudden, frightening rigidity.

I heard a low, internal growl that wasn’t fully human, and then, I felt it: a needle-sharp pressure where his mouth was pressed against my skin.

My breath hitched. The touch was agonizingly tender, yet undeniably threatening. As he moved his head, two points of white, involuntary heat briefly grazed my delicate skin.

A muffled moan escaped me.

That sound was his breaking point.

He recoiled as if burned. The raw desire that had been blazing in his eyes was instantly drowned out by self-loathing and a look of sheer, cold horror.

He stared at the spot on my neck, his lips slightly parted, showing the faint, immediate retraction of his fangs.

Control. He had lost it completely.

His throat bobbed once, heavily, as he swallowed the primal, feral urges that had just consumed him.

His arms, which moments ago had been pinning me to the wall in a desperate embrace, dropped to his sides, trembling violently.

He cursed himself in a low, vicious whisper, something sharp and unintelligible in his own language.

He looked at my face, flushed and vulnerable, still leaning back against the cold wall, my gown undone.

The realization that he had nearly done something like that...overwhelmed him. His eyes widened, fixing on my slightly exposed chest before flicking away. He was losing himself again, and the only solution was instant, physical removal.

Without a word, Lucian ripped off the heavy, finely tailored jacket he wore over his shoulders. It was a swift, almost violent movement.

He tossed the jacket around me, draping the rich velvet over my shoulders and the exposed line of my back, covering the vulnerability he had just exposed.

The heavy fabric was warm and smelled intensely of him.

I stood there, blinking, utterly confused. The shift from blinding, intoxicating passion to protective panic was instantaneous and jarring. I clutched the lapels of his jacket, my body still humming from the contact, my mind reeling.

"Lucian... what..."

I didn’t finish. He stepped in quickly, cupped my face with one last, steady hand, and pressed a clean, hard, non-negotiable peck on my lips.

It was a promise, not a demand.

"We will meet again," he breathed, his voice rough but firm, the control newly rebuilt and painfully enforced.

Then, before I could register the transition, he was gone. There was no door opening, no sound of running feet, just a sudden, heavy displacement of air, and the room was empty.

I was left alone in the cold, dark room, my back against the marble, my heart hammering a dangerous rhythm, draped in his jacket, hot and utterly bewildered.

The zipper of my gown was still undone, leaving a strip of skin exposed to the cool air, but the velvet jacket covered the rest, holding his warmth and his sharp, masculine scent close.

I dragged his jacket tighter around me, inhaling deeply...a purely instinctive, needy action, and the rush of desire hit me all over again.

How could he ignite something so terrifying and consuming, only to vanish into thin air like a panicked ghost?

I could still feel the rush of heat inside me; my entire body was throbbing for him, but he...he was gone just like that.

My hands instinctively rose to the slight sting in my neck, and I found a few drops of blood on it.

"Was he really going to mark me?" I couldn’t escape this question, even though it terrified me for a second, but more than terrified, I was thrilled, and I couldn’t deny it.

And I realized if he had not stopped it, I would have completely surrendered to him.