(Lucien's POV)
The air in the manor thrummed with unspoken expectations. Father's summons usually meant one thing: duty. Tonight, it felt heavier, laced with the scent of disapproval that always seemed to cling to me. Me, Lucien, the black sheep of the illustrious Elias bloodline.
I found them in the library, a cavernous room choked with leather-bound tomes older than the country itself. Father, ramrod straight as always, stood by the roaring fireplace, his silhouette a stark contrast against the flickering flames. And then there was Caspian, my twin, bathed in the warm glow, looking every inch the virtuous heir he was groomed to be.
He turned, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "Lucien, you made it."
"Wouldn't miss Father's… insightful lectures," I drawled, leaning against a bookshelf, a deliberately careless pose. My eyes, however, never left Caspian. That damn smile… it could still twist my insides into knots, even after centuries.
Father's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Lucien. Try to show some decorum tonight. Sera is joining us."
Sera. The ancient one. Her presence always amplified the pressure, her gaze sharp enough to strip bare any pretense. Why would she be here?
Before I could voice the question, she glided into the room, an ethereal being wrapped in shadows and silk. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, framing a face that held the secrets of millennia. She offered a curt nod to Father and then, her unsettling gaze landed on me. I met it, refusing to flinch.
"Elias," she said, her voice a low, melodic hum. "You wished to discuss the… future."
Father cleared his throat. "Indeed. As you know, the stability of our coven rests on strong leadership. And with my time… potentially shortening," he paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in, "I felt it necessary to address the matter of succession."
Caspian stiffened beside me. He hated when Father spoke of his mortality, a weakness Father rarely acknowledged. He'd managed to stay alive for more than ten centuries with the help of concoction but he might not make it much farther. He's a turned vampire who was able to ascend the highest position within the coven with the glory of his wife, our mother, who is an actual vampire with royal blood. Although, royalty is no longer as sacred as the history books have told, it still exists: we're royalty; my father, the King, my wonderful brother, the Prince, and me, well, I'm the rebel.
Sera's eyes flickered between us. "The choice seems obvious, Elias. Caspian embodies the values you've instilled. Discipline, restraint, a commitment to tradition."
I snorted, unable to help myself. "Restraint? You mean the ability to pretend he doesn't crave everything he's supposed to despise?"
Caspian's cheeks flushed. "Lucien, please."
"No, Caspian, please what? Please pretend we're not all putting on a ridiculous act?" I pushed off the bookshelf, stalking closer to the fireplace. "Let's be honest, old friend. The only reason you're everyone's golden boy is because you're better at hiding your appetites."
Father's voice cracked like ice. "Lucien! Enough. Your jealousy is unbecoming."
Jealousy? Was that what he thought this was? He had no idea. My feelings for Caspian were far more complex, more possessive and consuming, than simple jealousy. It was a need, a desperate craving that threatened to devour me whole.
"Am I wrong?" I challenged, turning my attention back to Sera. "Tell me, ancient one. Have you not seen the shadows lurking beneath Caspian's carefully constructed facade?"
Sera remained impassive, her silence more damning than any accusation.
"Lucien," Caspian interjected, his voice laced with a pleading tone, "this isn't the time or the place."
"Then when is the time, Caspian? When are we going to stop pretending?" I stepped closer to him, invading his space, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell them, Caspian. Tell them how much you crave the hunt, the power, the freedom that I embrace."
His eyes widened, a flicker of something raw and untamed passing through them. For a moment, just a fleeting second, I thought he might actually break, might confess the darkness that mirrored my own.
But then, the mask slammed back into place. He took a step back, distancing himself from me. "You're delusional, Lucien. I don't know what you're talking about."
The rejection stung, even though I expected it. He always chose the role he was expected to play. The "good" twin.
Father seized the opportunity. "See, Sera? This is the difference. Caspian understands duty, responsibility. Lucien is consumed by his own selfish desires."
Seraphina tilted her head, her gaze still fixed on me. "Desire can be a powerful tool, Elias. If properly channeled."
"And what exactly do you suggest I channel it into, Sera?" I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "Charity work? Knitting circles?"
She didn't rise to the bait. "Perhaps into understanding the true nature of your connection to your brother."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Connection? Old people probably grow blind with age.
The tension in the room was a tangible thing. Caspian shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. Father's face was a mask of barely controlled fury.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside. A flurry of hushed voices, quickly followed by a sharp, panicked cry.
"What is the meaning of this interruption?" Father barked, his voice cutting through the air.
The doors to the library burst open, revealing Kael, Caspian's ever-present shadow, his face pale with alarm.
"My Lord, there's been an… incident. Anya… she's attacked a human, unprovoked. She's lost control."
Anya. The fledgling I'd taken under my wing, the one who saw past my reputation, who seemed to understand my darkness. Dammit.
Father's eyes narrowed. "Bring her here."
Kael hesitated, glancing at Caspian. "Elias, I don't think that's wise. She's… unstable."
"I gave you an order, Kael," Father snapped, his voice laced with steel. "Bring her. Now."
Kael bowed his head and disappeared. The silence that followed was punctuated only by the crackling fire and the frantic beat of my own heart. Anya's impulsiveness was going to destroy everything.
Caspian finally spoke, his voice tight with concern. "This is a disaster. The humans will find out."
"Which is precisely why it needs to be handled swiftly," Father said, his gaze hardening. "Caspian, I want you to…"
He stopped, his eyes flickering between Caspian and me. An idea, a cruel, manipulative idea, seemed to dawn on him.
"No," I said, before he could even voice it. "Don't even think about it."
He ignored me. "Caspian, I want you to deal with Anya. Show her the… consequences of her actions."
Caspian's face paled. "Father, I…"
"You are my heir, Caspian. You must be willing to make the difficult choices, to protect the coven, no matter the cost."
I knew what he was doing. He was testing Caspian, pushing him towards the darkness, forcing him to embrace the ruthlessness that was necessary to lead. And he was using Anya, using me, as pawns in his twisted game.
"He can't do it," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "He doesn't have the stomach for it."
Caspian looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and resentment. He knew I was right. He also knew that Father would never trust me with such a task.
"I can do it," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I will do it."
Father nodded, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Good. Then prove yourself, Caspian. Prove that you are worthy to lead."
He turned to Sera. "You will, of course, oversee the proceedings. Ensure that justice is served."
Sera simply nodded, her expression unreadable.
The weight of the situation crashed down on me. Anya was going to pay for my recklessness, and Caspian was going to be having yet another chance to show how much he likes his silly little performance for the audiences that oh so adored him. And Father, that manipulative bastard, was going to sit back and watch it all unfold.
"I'm going with him," I announced, my voice leaving no room for argument.
Father's eyes narrowed. "That is not necessary, Lucien."
"It's necessary for me," I said, meeting his gaze head-on. "I'm responsible for Anya. And I'm not going to let Caspian be the one to clean up my mess."
The air crackled with unspoken threats, with the weight of centuries of rivalry and resentment.
Finally, Father sighed, a gesture of weary resignation. "Very well, Lucien. Go with your brother. But remember this: Caspian is in charge. You are simply an observer."
His words were a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down. He wanted to see what I would do, how far I would go to protect Anya, even if it meant submitting to his authority.
I met his gaze, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across my face.
"Of course, Father," I said, my voice dripping with insincerity. "I wouldn't dream of interfering."
But I knew, as I followed Caspian out of the library and into the night, that I was lying. I was going to interfere. I was going to protect Anya and disrupt Caspian's little performance, even if it meant defying my father.