Chapter 25: The Throne of Blood
The Vultures' base was now his.
Lucian stood at the top of the ruined warehouse, overlooking the battlefield. The bodies of the fallen were scattered across the ground, blood soaking into the cracked pavement.
His men—his followers—were already stripping weapons, gathering supplies, and fortifying the location. It was no longer the Vultures' base.
It was Lucian's kingdom.
Evelyn stepped beside him, wiping blood from her cheek. "The remaining survivors have surrendered. Some are useful fighters. Others?" She glanced toward a group of trembling captives. "Dead weight."
Lucian smirked. Weakness disgusted him.
But he wasn't going to waste resources.
"Give them a choice," he said, his voice like steel. "Pledge loyalty… or die."
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A New Order
The survivors were gathered before him. The air was thick with fear, their knees pressed into the dirt.
Lucian scanned their faces—some were already broken. Others held onto flickers of defiance.
He liked that.
"Listen well," he began, his crimson eyes glowing under the rising sun. "You belonged to the Vultures. They were weak. That's why they're dead."
A heavy silence followed.
Lucian continued, "I don't tolerate weakness. If you want to live, prove your worth. If you hesitate, I'll put a bullet in your skull."
A man in the front, bruised and bloodied, clenched his fists. His jaw tightened as he glared up at Lucian. "I'd rather die."
Lucian smirked. Perfect.
He raised his gun and fired.
The body collapsed. Blood sprayed across the dirt.
The rest of the survivors flinched.
Lucian turned to the remaining ones. "Anyone else?"
Silence.
Then, one by one, they bowed.
Lucian's smirk widened.
Just like that, his army grew.
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A Queen's Loyalty
Later that night, Lucian sat in the warehouse's upper chamber, feet propped on a desk, a glass of stolen whiskey in hand.
Evelyn entered, her silhouette sharp against the candlelight. "You've taken another step forward."
Lucian smirked, swirling the drink. "This was just a warm-up."
Evelyn walked closer, stopping in front of him. She was watching him differently now.
Lucian set the glass down. "Something on your mind?"
She didn't speak—she just moved.
Evelyn straddled his lap, her hands gripping his shoulders.
Lucian raised a brow, but he didn't stop her.
"You're dangerous," she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. "And I like dangerous men."
Lucian chuckled. Of course she did.
As she pressed her lips against his, he pulled her closer.
Tonight, he would claim more than just a throne.
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To Be Continued…