Chereads / Lucian's Unplanned Bride / Chapter 9 - The Mark

Chapter 9 - The Mark

The knock on her door was soft but firm, waking Eva from her afternoon nap.

"Lunch is ready, ma'am," a voice called from the hallway.

She rubbed her eyes, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. The nap had been a small escape from the weight of her thoughts.

With a sigh, Eva stood, smoothing her dress before heading to the door. By the time she opened it, the servant who had knocked was already retreating down the hallway.

The mansion loomed around her, its corridors long and imposing. The opulence of the place felt suffocating as she made her way to the dining room, each step echoing in the silence.

Lucian was already seated at the head of the long table, absorbed in his tablet. He didn't look up when she entered.

A servant gestured to a seat a few spaces down. Eva hesitated, then sat down carefully, as though the silence in the room might shatter if she moved too quickly.

Plates of food were set in front of her, their arrangement almost too perfect to touch. But hunger gnawed at her, and she picked up her fork.

Lucian hadn't moved an inch, his black hair framing his sharp features, his red eyes glowing like embers in the dim light. His beauty was striking, but the coldness in him made the room feel even larger, more distant.

She took a bite of the roasted vegetables and glanced at the servants stationed around the room. Their faces were unreadable, but Eva could feel their eyes on her.

"Excuse me," she said softly, addressing one of the servants. A middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard approached.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"This food is incredible," she said, offering a small smile. "Did you prepare it?"

The man shook his head. "No, ma'am. The kitchen staff handles all meals."

Eva nodded. "Please thank them for me. It's wonderful."

He gave a brief nod, his expression polite but distant. Eva shifted in her seat, feeling the subtle judgment in his gaze.

Another servant, a younger woman, was standing closer to Lucian. Eva tried again, her voice a bit more confident. "Do you eat like this every day? It seems extravagant."

The woman hesitated, glancing toward Lucian before answering in a clipped tone. "It's how things are done here."

Eva's eyes flicked to Lucian, but he hadn't looked up. His focus was still fixed on his tablet.

Determined to break the silence, Eva asked, "How long have you all been working here? This place must be fascinating."

The servant didn't respond, her lips pressing into a thin line as she stepped back.

The scrape of Lucian's fork against his plate made Eva glance up. He wasn't eating anymore. His red eyes locked onto hers, unblinking and intense.

Eva froze under his gaze, her breath catching. He said nothing, but the weight of his stare was like a command.

Her heart raced as she quickly lowered her gaze to her plate, pretending to focus on her food.

When Lucian finally looked away and resumed tapping on his tablet, Eva felt as though a tension had been released. The rest of the meal passed in strained silence. Lucian finished quickly, pushing his chair back and leaving without a glance in her direction.

Eva stayed seated, her appetite gone. The servants cleared the table around her, their movements practiced, efficient.

"Thank you," she murmured to one of them. He nodded without speaking.

Alone in the massive dining room, Eva felt the weight of the silence closing in. She needed to move, to distract herself. Her feet carried her through the winding hallways until she found a door slightly ajar.

The dim light spilling from the crack drew her in. Before she could second-guess herself, she pushed the door open further.

The study was unlike any other room in the house—personal, almost intimate. Towering shelves filled with books, maps, and trinkets lined the walls. Papers were neatly arranged on the desk, the chair pushed back as if the occupant had just left.

Curiosity piqued, Eva stepped inside. Her fingers brushed the polished wood of the desk. A stack of old books caught her eye. She reached for them, drawn by the ornate design of their spines.

"What are you doing here?"

The deep, cold voice startled her, freezing her hand mid-air.

Eva spun around, her heart racing.

Lucian stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking the exit. His glowing red eyes locked onto hers.

"I—I wasn't—" Eva stammered, taking a small step back. "I wasn't doing anything."

Lucian stepped forward, his gaze never leaving hers.

Eva instinctively backed away, but her back hit the edge of a bookshelf. She gasped, startled by the sudden contact.

Lucian stopped just a breath away from her, his presence suffocating. As she leaned back, a few books dislodged from the shelf above.

The heavy tomes teetered, and Eva's eyes widened. Before she could react, Lucian's hand shot out, catching them effortlessly. His reflexes were faster than she could comprehend.

His hand hovered near her face as he lowered his arm, setting the books aside with precision. He leaned in slightly. "I asked you a question, Eva. What are you doing here?"

Eva's throat tightened. Her eyes flicked to his hand, swollen and raw. The reality of it hit her all at once, and without thinking, she stepped forward.

"Where's the restroom?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucian didn't respond immediately, his gaze calculating. Then, with a slight shift in his expression, he pointed toward a door across the room.

Without hesitation, Eva crossed the room, her hand brushing against his arm as she reached for his other hand. He stiffened but didn't pull away.

Without a word, she tugged at his arm, guiding him toward the door.

Lucian followed her wordlessly, the only sound their footsteps in the hallway. Eva didn't stop until they reached the bathroom.

She pushed the door open with her shoulder and pulled him inside with quiet urgency.

Once inside, she directed him to the sink. Lucian's eyes followed her, confusion clouding his thoughts.

Once they were standing at the sink, Eva turned on the cold water, the rush of liquid filling the silence.

She gently took his hand—still swollen—and placed it under the stream.

As she washed his hand carefully, Lucian's gaze drifted to her neck. The curve of her skin stirred something inside him, something he couldn't place.

His eyes landed on a small, dark birthmark near her shoulder. The sight jolted him.

This mark.

His pulse quickened, and his breath hitched. It couldn't be her. It couldn't be the woman from that night.

Suddenly, his hand jerked away from hers, trembling as he pulled back.

"Get out," he ordered, his voice tight.

Eva opened her mouth to speak, but his command was enough to silence her.

She turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as Lucian stood frozen, his mind spinning with thoughts he couldn't grasp.