CHAPTER 47: GOOD AT NOT GETTING ATTACHED

"Huh!" I let out a long breath as I dropped onto the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. Shopping bags surrounded me like a small fortress, each one filled with things I definitely didn’t ask for. I looked at the mountain of glossy paper and sighed dramatically.

Lucian entered a second later, carrying the rest of the bags in both hands like they weighed nothing. He set them down neatly beside the others and straightened his back, perfectly composed as always.

"I told you," I said, glaring halfheartedly at him, "I don’t need all of these."

Lucian’s lips curved faintly, the same calm, teasing smile he always wore when I complained about something he clearly had no intention of regretting. "You said you didn’t want to shop," he said, sitting beside me. "You didn’t say I couldn’t."

I groaned and flopped backward onto the sofa. "That’s not how this works."

He leaned back too, resting one arm casually along the back of the couch, looking far too pleased with himself. "It is when I’m the one paying."

I turned my head to look at him, frowning. He met my gaze with that faint, calm amusement that always made it hard to stay annoyed. "That’s why..." I muttered, crossing my arms. "Shouldn’t you just let Thalor pay? He did promise before."

Lucian’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flash of something dangerous in his eyes... A glint that made me instantly realize I might’ve hit a nerve.

"I was just kidding earlier..." he said slowly, his tone deceptively casual. Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, he added, "Why would I let someone else pay for my wife’s things when I’m more than capable of buying the whole place?"

I sat up straight, staring at him. "Are you bragging, or is that just part of your dragon personality?"

Lucian looked thoughtful for half a second, then shrugged lightly. "Both," he admitted without shame.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, flopping back onto the sofa again. "You’re actually proud of it."

He leaned forward, resting his arms in between me, and glanced at me with that infuriatingly calm expression. "Why wouldn’t I be? A dragon’s supposed to provide for his mate."

I looked straight into those piercing blue eyes and narrowed mine. "This sounds good for a romance book," I said dryly. "I should change from contemporary to fantasy when I return."

His brow furrowed, the teasing fading just a little. "Return?" he repeated slowly. "Where?"

I froze.

Oh no.

My brain scrambled for something or anything to cover that slip, but the way he was looking at me made it ten times harder to think straight.

"I—uh..." I forced a laugh that sounded painfully fake. "You know, return home..." honestly, I’m fucked up. I don’t have an excuse at this second.

Of course Lucian didn’t look convinced. His gaze lingered on me a moment longer, his expression unreadable but sharp enough to make my pulse skip. Then, in that quiet, even tone of his, he asked,

"Which home? Isn’t this your home?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "Well, yeah... of course it is," I said quickly, waving my hands a little too fast. "I meant this home. Obviously."

Lucian tilted his head slightly, studying me like he could sense there was more behind my words. His lips curved faintly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. "You said it like you were going somewhere far."

I froze. "I didn’t mean it like that," I said, a bit too defensive, grabbing the nearest cushion just to have something to hold onto. "You’re imagining things again."

He didn’t reply at first, just kept looking at me. His silence was worse than any question he could’ve asked.

His silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I could almost hear the faint ticking of the clock somewhere down the hall, mocking how fast my heartbeat was racing.

Finally, Lucian exhaled quietly, leaning back just a little, though his eyes never left mine. "You really are terrible at lying," he said softly.

My grip on the cushion tightened. "W–what are you talking about?"

He arched an eyebrow, the faintest trace of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You only grab something to hold when you’re nervous. And you start talking faster when you’re hiding something."

I glared weakly. "Wow. You’ve been observing me that much?"

He hummed in quiet agreement, his voice dropping lower. "I told you, little birdie. You’re hard not to notice."

I blinked, my heart tripping over itself. "That’s not— That doesn’t—"

Lucian’s gaze softened a little, and he leaned forward again, his tone suddenly calm and steady. "Whatever that ’home’ is," he said, "if you ever want to tell me about it... you can."

The air caught in my throat.

It wasn’t teasing this time. There was no playful smirk, no hidden sarcasm, just quiet sincerity.

I forced a small smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how shaken I was. "No... really," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I used to move from one home to another when I was small, so it’s kind of become a habit... of me saying that."

My lips trembled slightly at the end, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek, praying he’d buy it.

Lucian didn’t speak right away. His gaze stayed on me, searching, like he was weighing every word, every twitch of my expression. The air between us felt so still it almost hurt.

Then, slowly, he leaned back against the sofa. "A habit?"

"Yeah," I said quickly, nodding. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

His eyes softened just a little, the tension fading from his shoulders. "That sounds... lonely."

The words caught me off guard. I looked at him, startled. "Lonely?"

He nodded, his voice quieter now, gentler. "Moving from one place to another all the time... that must’ve been hard."

I froze. The concern in his tone, so calm and genuine, hit deeper than I expected.

"I’m used to it," I said quickly, forcing another smile. "You get good at not getting attached to things."

Lucian studied me for a moment longer, then reached out, brushing his cool fingers lightly against my hand. "You don’t have to do that here," he said softly. "This place... you can get attached to."

My breath hitched, and I stared down at where his fingers rested over mine. I wanted to pull away, but I didn’t.

"Lucian..." I whispered, unsure of what else to say.

He smiled faintly, a quiet promise flickering in his blue eyes. "You’re home now, Seraphina," he said. "Whether you believe it yet or not."

And the worst part was... some small, traitorous part of me actually believed him.