CHAPTER 18: ANCESTOR BLOOD VOWS

"Why would I need her to survive?" Lucian laughed, thin and cold. "This marriage existed for a reason... to make sure your clan didn’t die out. I could kill her right now if I wanted."

The words hung in the room like a thrown knife.

Darian’s face went still. For the first time since he’d entered the manor, the phoenix’s composure cracked. "My lord—" he began, voice low, but Lucian cut him off with a look that froze the air between them.

"You don’t understand what ’extinct’ means to me," Lucian said quietly, the mockery gone. The grin faded into something harder, older. "I could snuff out every last phoenix. One precise change in temperature, one command, and those flames never rise again." He let the thought sit there, tasting it like a threat.

Darian swallowed. "You wouldn’t—"

"I wouldn’t?" Lucian’s jaw tightened, "Ah—because of those stupid ancestor blood vows?" His voice snapped like ice.

Darian’s expression went taut, the hurt of generations flickering across his features. "It wasn’t ’stupid’ to them," he said quietly. "It was like returning the favors."

"Returning the favors? You speak as if your kind died for my family." Lucian turned on him, the room chilling with the force of the question. "Tell me, phoenix... whose debt is this? Ours? Theirs? Whose sacrifice tied the two lines together?"

Darian swallowed, setting his hands tight on his medical kit as if to steady himself. "You know what that vow meant, my lord—"

Lucian cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Of course I know. During the Frost fall, a phoenix saved the first Ice Lord, bla bla bla... and in return the dragons swore eternal gratitude. A blood vow sealed in fire and ice." He scoffed. "A beautiful story for children, isn’t it? Except now I’m the one paying for their sentiment."

Darian’s voice was quiet but firm. "Without that vow, both clans would have perished. It wasn’t sentiment. It was survival."

Lucian’s eyes glinted, cold and distant. "Survival for them. A leash for us." He turned away, done with the conversation. The air in the room grew heavy, frost creeping across the marble floor.

"My lord," Darian tried again, his tone cautious. "Not all phoenixes are the same. The ones who betrayed your mother were ’The Ember Sect’ and they were cast out long ago. Their obsession with power and resurrection broke every vow our kind stood for."

Lucian’s hand twitched, the frost splintering where his fingers grazed the desk.

"I know who they were," he said flatly. "And I know the fire they played with still burns somewhere. That’s reason enough not to trust any of you."

"Still," Darian pressed, his voice gentler now, "if the girl causing the instability of your power is Lady Celeste, she isn’t part of them. The council made sure of that before arranging this bond."

Lucian’s jaw tightened at the mention of her name. "Celeste," he repeated, the word tasting like smoke. "You trust your clan so much... Tell me, do you really think the Blaze would send their precious daughter to me willingly?"

Darian blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean, my lord?"

Lucian’s expression shuttered, the brief flicker of emotion gone. "Never mind. Get out—I’m tired."

Darian hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but the air in the room grew colder by the second. The faint shimmer of frost began to creep along the edge of the desk, warning enough to keep his distance.

He finally bowed his head. "As you wish, Lord Lucian."

When the door clicked shut behind him, silence returned to the west wing. The fire crackled softly, fighting against the frost that slowly crept across the walls.

Lucian took a seat in his chair, leaning back with his eyes half-lidded, watching his breath fog the air.

"Willingly..." he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. "No phoenix ever walks into a cage by choice."

His lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "Same with this orphan one..."

He let his eyes close, the faint crackle of the dying fire the only sound left in the room. The chill pressed in closer, heavy and uninvited. For a fleeting moment, silence almost felt like peace until a sharp knock broke it.

Lucian’s eyes snapped open, a thin trace of frost sliding down the armrest beneath his fingers. "Enter."

Sebastian stepped in, bowing slightly. The moment he crossed the threshold, his breath misted in the cold. "My lord, I was told to inform you, Miss Vale—"

"Call her Celeste." Lucian’s voice cut through like a blade, cold and absolute. "Maintain secrecy. No one needs to know that we know about the switch."

Sebastian straightened, the tension in his shoulders visible. "Understood, my lord." He hesitated, then added carefully, "Lady Celeste has regained consciousness. But, she is still weak."

Lucian’s fingers drummed once against the desk before he stood, movements precise, deliberate. "Good." His tone softened only slightly, though the temperature in the room continued to drop. "I’ll go there right away."

Sebastian bowed. "Shall I have the staff prepare—"

"No." Lucian’s voice cut him off sharply as he turned toward the door, the air around him chilling by degrees. His gaze darkened, unreadable. "No one enters the room until I say so. I need... private time with her."

Sebastian hesitated before adding, "Dr. Alden has already returned to his quarters, my lord. He said Lady Celeste’s condition has stabilized... but he advised that you refrain from any..." he cleared his throat carefully, "Any... physical contact for the time being."

Lucian froze for a heartbeat, then slowly turned his head, his expression sharp enough to cut through steel. "Refrain from what? Seriously?" A humorless laugh slipped from his lips. "Do they think I’m that desperate?"

Sebastian wisely said nothing.

Lucian exhaled, annoyed, the air frosting around his breath. "Ridiculous." His hand brushed the frost from his sleeve before he pushed the door open. "If anyone’s losing control here, it won’t be me."

And with that, he stepped out, leaving Sebastian in the frozen stillness of the room.