“You—!”
Her mind screeched to a halt.
Heat.
Unbearable, furious heat surged to her face, spreading down her neck, burning through every nerve in her body.
Leaning in…
She had—
Her hands curled into fists, violently suppressing the memory of how close she had been—how she had been the one to reach for him first.
Her lips parted—ready to scream, ready to strangle him, ready to do something—
And then—
She saw it.
That flicker.
Beneath the teasing, beneath the amusement, beneath the insufferable Luca-ness of it all—
There was something else.
Something behind his smirk.
Something almost… expectant.
Like he was waiting for her anger.
Like he needed it.
Aeliana’s breath caught.
And then, suddenly—everything clicked.
Her fury didn’t vanish. No, it still burned, still boiled under her skin, but now—
Now, she understood.
She took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing herself to steady her trembling hands. Then, slowly, she leaned forward.
Lucavion’s smirk twitched, but he didn’t move.
Aeliana’s voice dropped lower, laced with something sharp and knowing.
“You really did it on purpose, huh?”
His grin didn’t falter. “Did what on purpose?”
Aeliana’s glare was scorching.
It wasn’t just anger now—it was demanding. Relentless. The kind of gaze that dug deep, forcing answers where there were none given.
Lucavion held her stare, his black eyes sharp, gleaming, but unreadable.
Those words you said.
Did you do everything on purpose?
Did you really mean all those things?
She was pushing forward. She had to.
Lucavion let out a quiet chuckle, his smirk widening slightly as he lifted a hand—casual, almost lazy.
“What do you think?”
It was an answer that wasn’t an answer. A dodge, a deflection. His favorite way of twisting things around, letting her decide what to believe. Explore hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire
But this time—
She refused to let him.
Aeliana’s jaw tightened.
“No,” she snapped. “Don’t evade the question.”
She moved suddenly, her body tense as she stood up, breaking all distance between them. Her voice rose, her anger surging, her breath unsteady.
“Answer me!”
Lucavion blinked, watching her from where he still lay, as if mildly entertained by her outburst.
“Answer what?” His voice remained maddeningly smooth.
Aeliana’s fingers curled into fists. “Did you mean all those things or not?”
A pause.
A slow inhale.
And then—
Lucavion’s expression shifted.
It was subtle. Barely there. A small flicker in his eyes, something indecipherable just beneath the surface. Then, slowly—he sat up.
Their gazes remained locked, the space between them electric with tension.
Finally—
“…What if I say I did?”
His voice was softer now, quieter. No teasing, no mockery. Just a question.
“What will you do then?”
Silence.
Aeliana froze.
Her heart pounded.
‘What will you do then?’
The words sank into her bones, curling into something she didn’t know how to hold.
Aeliana stared.
Her breath felt too tight, her heartbeat a sharp, uneven rhythm pounding in her ears. The heat of her anger was still there—hot, furious—but beneath it, beneath all of it…
She felt lost.
‘What am I supposed to do?’
If he really meant it—if he truly, deliberately, intentionally used her—then what? Would she hate him more? Would she strike him down right here? Would she walk away? Would she—
Her fingers twitched.
A deep part of her, a part she did not want to acknowledge, knew the answer.
She wouldn’t.
She wouldn’t walk away. She wouldn’t strike him. She wouldn’t leave.
She was too deep in this already.
And that—
That realization was unbearable.
Her fists clenched at her sides. Fury burned hot in her veins, but it wasn’t simple anymore. It wasn’t just the fire of rage—it was betrayal, frustration, confusion—all of it twisting together into something that made her feel small.
Aeliana inhaled sharply, the sound shaking slightly against the silence.
Her voice, when it came, was low, sharp, but unsteady.
“…Then I will never forgive you.”
Lucavion’s black eyes flickered.
For just a second—a fraction of a second—something passed through his expression. Something she almost caught, almost grasped.
Then—
He smiled.
Not a smirk. Not his usual arrogant, teasing, insufferable grin.
A smile.
Slow. Almost thoughtful. But not kind.
Aeliana felt something heavy settle in her chest.
‘Why do I feel like… he was waiting for me to say that?’
She hated it.
She hated how uncertain she suddenly felt.
Aeliana’s amber eyes burned into him, sharp and unrelenting.
Lucavion didn’t look away.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other—her fury, her uncertainty, her demand for something, anything real—clashing against the calm, unreadable depth of his black irises.
Then—
“Is that so?”
His voice was quiet. Smooth. Too smooth.
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, the faintest shift of movement as his gaze flickered away.
“That is good then.”
And just like that—he turned.
Aeliana’s body locked up.
Her breath caught in her throat.
What.
“You—”
Her voice hitched.
Then, it snapped.
“WHAT?!”
Lucavion didn’t even flinch at her outburst. He merely glanced back at her, golden eyes gleaming faintly, as if she was making too big of a deal out of this.
“You’re just going to say that and turn your head?!”
“Yep.”
His lips curled slightly, that infuriating nonchalance wrapping around him like armor.
“Is there anything else I’m supposed to say?”
Aeliana saw red.
“There is, you bastard!”
Before she even registered the movement, she was already storming forward—her hands grabbing his arm, yanking him back toward her.
Lucavion didn’t resist.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t even try to avoid her grip.
He merely blinked, tilting his head slightly, as if mildly curious about what she was about to do.
But Aeliana didn’t care.
Didn’t care about his damn smirks. Didn’t care about his usual evasive nonsense. Didn’t care about the fact that her hands were shaking as they clenched around him.
All she cared about was the rage boiling in her chest. The raw, aching confusion that refused to let her go.
“All those promises you made.”
Her voice shook.
“All those things you told me about not giving up on life.”
Lucavion’s smirk faded.
Aeliana’s grip tightened.
“The promise about curing me!”
She pulled him closer, forcing him to look at her.
“What the hell are they about then?!”
Her heart was pounding.
She needed to know.
“Hmm….”
Aeliana’s fingers were digging into his arm, trembling with frustration, with confusion—with everything he had forced her to feel.
Her voice had cracked.
Her breath was uneven.
And yet, even as she glared up at him, demanding answers, demanding something real, Lucavion—
Lucavion smiled.
It wasn’t his usual smirk. It wasn’t the playful arrogance she had come to expect from him.
No—this was different.
A slow, meaningful smile.
One laced with something quietly knowing—and just a little playful.
“Did you not notice?”
Aeliana’s brows furrowed.
“Notice what?!”
Lucavion chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in his chest. Then—
He laughed.
Not loud. Not mocking.
Just a small, inward laugh, as if he found something about this moment deeply amusing.
Aeliana bristled.
‘This bastard—’
And then—
He moved.
His hand flicked to the side, reaching into thin air—no, into his spatial storage.
Aeliana instinctively tensed, her grip on his arm tightening, half-expecting a trick—
But instead—
Lucavion pulled out something small.
Something round.
Something silver.
“Here.”
He extended it toward her, palm open.
Aeliana’s eyes flickered downward—
A mirror.
Her heart skipped.
Slowly, cautiously, she reached for it, her fingers brushing against the cool surface as she lifted it into her hands.
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then—
She looked.
And the second she did—
Her world stopped.
Her breath hitched.
Her amber eyes widened.
The mirror shook slightly in her grasp as she stared, as she processed what she was seeing—
No—
What she wasn’t seeing.
No dark veins.
No sunken pallor.
No fragile, deathly thin complexion.
Her skin was—
Healthy.
Clear.
As if she had never been sick at all.
The mirror trembled in her hands.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
And then—
Lucavion’s voice, soft and terribly amused, broke the silence—
“Congratulations.”
She turned to him, her expression shattered, disbelieving.
“You’re cured now.”