As the front door slammed shut, Serena fell into the couch. Her hand was cradling the dried flower like it was the last chance at life sitting in her palm. Her breath caught in her throat as she examined the creases and folds of the petals and leaves. Her heart hung by a thread in the thick fog that filled her stomach.
She exhaled slowly but only a short, shaking breath escaped her chapped lips.
"He still has this..." She whispered to the empty room and the lonely flower.
She twiddled and twirled the flower between her fingers late into the evening. The fire dimmed, and the room grew cold, but she remained seated, her head propped in the cup of her hand and her eyes fixed only on the cream-colored petals.
A soft knock came from the entrance to the living room.
She jerked her head up, startled by the sudden noise in the silent house. She shoved the flower behind her back and sat up straight.
"You good?" Lucian leaned against the post, arms crossed, and his head rested against the post.
Serena swallowed the hardened lump in her throat.
"Y-Yes." She croaked.
Lucian nodded once and cautiously walked toward her.
"Whatcha got there?" He nodded around her.
Serena shifted and covered herself in a blanket, protecting the flower and her last memento from Atlas.
"Nothing. What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back today."
Lucian shrugged. As he grew closer, she could see the paleness of his skin against the rosy cheeks, as though he had been outside all day against the bitter wind. His fingers were whiter than the snow outside, and his hair was soaked to an almost brown.
She cocked her head and eyed him carefully.
"It was finished earlier than expected. My friend in town didn't need all that much done. Just moving some stuff."
Serena nodded and slowly rose, draping the blanket over her shoulders in an effort to hide the flower.
Lucian strode forward and plucked the quilted blanket from around her shoulders. With one hand, he dropped it to the ground and swooped his hand around her neck, and pulled her close. He buried his nose into her neck and inhaled her sweet scent.
Her body went rigid against his. Much unlike the many times before, she hesitated to accept his embrace. Something deep in her bones itched, unsettled. She shifted and blinked unsure of where to put her gaze or her hands. Her fingers tightened around the stem and pressed deeper into her spine.
Lucian slid his hand down her neck and back, resting just above the flower. As his hand crept down, the itching turned into a burning, and the oxygen that invaded her lungs froze. Lucian paused, his hand stuck against her back. He moved away from her a few inches and studied her timid face.
"What's wrong?" He proded, his other hand moved up her neck and cupped her face.
Every time his skin grazed against hers, an insufferable ache burned into her skin and muscle. She pursed her pink lips tightly together, forbidding them from moving in how her body knew.
He was familiar to her, much more familiar than he should have been. She looked into the sky-blue eyes before her and a pit sunk deep into her stomach.
"Nothing." She replied curtly.
Lucian's thumb rubbed against her flushed cheek.
"That's a lie." His voice soothed the burning. No. It masked the burning. It brought a distraction from the pain that his touch caused her. The honey on the bleeding wound of her soul.
She shook her head and moved one foot back, her toes resting gently against the cold, wood floor.
"No, it's not. It's nothing that you need to concern yourself with."
She moved her other foot back to meet its partner.
Lucian's hand was empty, frozen where her face had just been. He clenched his fingers into his fist and brought it to his side swiftly. His eyes met hers, hurt by her actions but unwilling to move.
"I don't think so." His voice quivered toward the end.
She sighed as she picked the blanket off the floor and slung it over her shoulder.
"It's none of your business. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
Serena skirted around Lucian. As she got to his side, his calloused hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her toward the wall. He pushed her into the wall and pressed his body close to hers, blocking her exit.
"What's gotten into you?" He demanded an answer from her. He pressed a hand against the wall at the base of her neck. Her eyes widened in fear as she looked up at him. As she met his gaze, his ocean-blue eyes turned into a deep forest green, and the blues and greens swirled into a mist of the sky and land. Never fully mixing, but never being separate.
She gulped and slid the flower up her shirt, pressing her back into the wall to keep it from sliding. Lucian moved closer as she moved farther.
"Nothing's gotten into me. What's wrong with you? You've never been like this before." Her voice was quiet and hesitant, timid and submissive.
Lucian smirked.
"Not with you." His voice was silky smooth, gruff in its usual way, but that silk-like growl from deep in his chest pulled at Serena's heart. "But that can change. I can be better than Atlas for you. I can give you what you need, what you crave. Just let me be the one you want."
Vomit pushed into Serena's throat, burning its way along the esophagus. She swallowed even though her throat was dry.
"You can be my Luna. You can be my everything if you just let me." He begged. His eyes pleaded for the green light, the sign to continue.
"I-I can't be that for you." She stammered.
Lucian backed away slightly and cocked his head.
"Be what? I'm not asking you to be anything."
"I can't be who you're looking for. I love someone else."
Lucian scoffed and rolled his eyes. He turned back to Serena and paused, startled by her serious gaze.
"You're serious?" He backed away, letting her escape from his prison.
"I love someone else, and I'm sorry for leading you on. I just now realized it."
She fled the room, leaving Lucian frustrated and alone in a place he never really belonged in the first place. The dried flower was still pressed into her back as she slammed the bedroom door and turned the lock, blocking out the man on the other side.
She flopped on the bed and held the flower to her nose.
It still smelled sweet, but with a hint of vanilla and musk.
Atlas. It smelled of Atlas.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, washed the rest of the nausea with it, and rolled over. She closed her eyes and snuggled into the comforter and pillows. The rushing of wind past her window and the creaking of branches lulled her into a dream-filled sleep. Her father, her mother, the boy with the red scarf, and the Alpha beyond the lake all met her as she slept.
When she awoke, she ignored Lucian and his attempts at conversation. Instead, she packed up a small bag, slipped into her snow gear, and stepped into the brisk morning air. A new goal played at the front of her mind.