CHAPTER 108: WHAT KIND OF MAN STANDS BESIDES HER

Lucian stood beside the desk in his study, his fingers resting against the cold wood while Sebastian remained before him, expression tight with quiet frustration.

"My lord," Sebastian said, shaking his head slightly, "I cannot trace her soul."

Lucian didn’t respond right away.

"She severed too much of herself during the escape. Her spiritual thread is unstable... scattered. It’s like trying to find smoke in a storm."

Lucian’s jaw clenched.

"So she’s gone."

Sebastian hesitated. "Not gone. Just... unreachable. For now."

Lucian turned his gaze toward the window, frost curling lazily across the glass.

"Keep searching," he said finally. "Every hour. Every corner of this realm. I want even a shadow of her presence reported to me."

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my lord."

He had just turned to leave when a soft knock sounded at the door.

Both of them froze.

Lucian frowned. "Enter."

The door opened quietly.

Two servants stepped in first, moving carefully.

Between them, a wheeled chair... and in it... sat Lady Arienne.

Her hair was still silver-white, her figure fragile, and her hands rested stiffly atop a blanket draped across her legs. Her eyes were open now but empty in a way that told Lucian she was still waking from a long, unnatural sleep.

Sebastian inhaled sharply, "My... lady."

Lucian’s breath hitched, "Mother..."

The servants pushed her inside and quietly closed the door behind them.

Lady Arienne’s gaze lifted slowly, and a weak smile shaped her pale lips.

"It looks like you’re in trouble..." her voice was little more than a whisper. "Is there anything I can help you with, my son...?"

Lucian took a step forward before he realized it, then stopped, as if afraid she might vanish again if he moved too fast.

"You should be resting," he said quietly. "You just woke up."

She gave a faint, tired laugh.

"I’ve been sleeping for years," she murmured. "I think I’ve rested enough."

Her eyes drifted to Sebastian, then back to Lucian.

"The air here feels... heavy," she added softly. "Like something dark passed through and never truly left."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "You still sense things," he said under his breath.

"I’m a mother," she replied gently. "Of course I do."

She lifted one trembling hand a little from beneath the blanket.

"Come closer," she whispered. "Let me look at you."

Lucian hesitated only a second before stepping into her reach.

Her fingers touched his cheek, icy and soft all at once, "You’ve suffered," she whispered.

Lucian pressed his lips thin, trying to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Mother... I’m married now." He lowered himself in front of her wheelchair, his voice unsteady. "And... we just lost our baby."

Her grip on his hand tightened, "The one who saved me?" she asked softly.

Lucian nodded.

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if taking in the weight of it, then looked at him again.

"I’ve never seen you like this before," she said quietly. "She must be very special to you."

A faint, gentle smile curved her lips. "I can’t wait to meet her."

Lucian’s breath wavered at her words.

"You will," he said softly, though his voice almost betrayed him. "She’s resting right now... she’s been through too much today."

Arienne studied him the way only a mother could, as though she could see past his calm and straight into the places that still ached. Her fingers tightened around his for a moment.

"Then she is strong," she murmured. "Anyone who survives what I can already see in your eyes... is stronger than she knows."

Lucian swallowed.

"She lost the child," he admitted quietly, the words cutting deeper now that they were spoken out loud to someone else. "She didn’t even know she was carrying one... and now she has to live with that."

Arienne’s gaze softened, not with pity, but with something painfully familiar.

"Loss leaves echoes," she said gently. "But it does not mean the heart is empty forever."

She lifted his hand and pressed it to his chest.

"Take care of her," she whispered. "Not only as your wife... but as someone who has already died once and still chose to come back to you."

The words struck deeper than anything else that night.

’Someone who had already died once... and still chose to come back to you.’

Lucian’s jaw tightened as he stared at the floor, his chest tightening with everything he didn’t know how to say out loud. He drew in a slow, shaky breath, then finally whispered, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

"I feel like everything that happened to her... started because of me."

Arienne didn’t interrupt. She only watched him.

Lucian let out a hollow breath and looked away. "If I hadn’t dragged her into my world... if I hadn’t used her the way I did in the beginning..." His fingers curled slowly against his knee. "None of this would have happened to her. She wouldn’t have been hunted. She wouldn’t have suffered like this. She wouldn’t have died."

His voice cracked on that last word, barely audible.

"I wanted control," he admitted softly. "Power. Distance. I didn’t even give her a choice at the start. And now I’ve lost the right to pretend I don’t know what that cost her."

Arienne reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

"You cannot undo what has already been done," she said quietly. "But you can decide what kind of man stands beside her now."

Lucian lifted his eyes to his mother.

"Don’t try to make yourself a savior," she continued. "She never asked for one. Be a husband instead. Be someone she can lean on... not someone who keeps trying to punish himself in silence."

His throat tightened.

"I’m afraid one day she’ll realize she never should’ve come back to me," he admitted. "That loving me was a mistake."

Arienne’s expression softened. "Then your job," she said simply, "is to make sure it isn’t."

Lucian looked up at her, his gaze searching her face as if the answer might decide something inside him.

"Mother..." he asked quietly, "if you had the chance to turn back time... would you still choose Father all over again?"