The morning air outside Cassius's quarters was sharp and brisk, stinging against my skin.
I pulled my cloak tighter around myself and headed down the long corridor, my boots clicking softly on the stone floors.
The castle was beginning to wake — servants moving quietly, the distant clatter of kitchens coming to life — but it still felt too quiet. Like the world was holding its breath.
I needed time to think.
Time to breathe. Every piece of information just felt so much for me at the moment.
But apparently, fate had other plans.
Lucas was leaning against the corridor wall when I turned the corner, arms crossed loosely over his chest, a faint, knowing smirk curling his mouth.
He looked infuriatingly relaxed — his black tunic rumpled, his hair tousled by the wind — as if he'd just strolled out of a tavern and not a fortress built on blood.
"Rough morning, storm girl?" he drawled lazily, pushing off the wall with a grace that seemed almost deliberate.
I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"
Lucas grinned wider, that dangerous spark dancing behind his pale blue eyes. "You wound me."
I moved to step past him, refusing to rise to his games, but of course, he fell into step beside me easily, like he had nothing better to do.
"You always walk like you're ready to start a fight," he said lightly, almost conversational.
"And you," I said without missing a beat, "always walk like you're ready to flirt with the first woman foolish enough to look at you."
He let out a low laugh, rough and genuine. "Fair enough."
For a while, we just walked in silence — not quite easy, not quite uncomfortable — the early morning light streaming in thin beams through the high windows, dust motes swirling in the air.
Then Lucas shifted slightly, his voice dropping just enough to cut through the quiet.
"You're seem to be even grumpier today," he said, his usual teasing stripped away.
I stiffened, instinctive walls slamming back into place.
"I'm fine," I said flatly.
Lucas didn't argue.
Didn't push.
He just shrugged one shoulder lazily, glancing toward a passing group of servants without real interest.
"Try not to burn the whole place down before afternoon," he said with a crooked grin as we continued walking.
"I know it's not my place," he said casually, but I caught the edge underneath, "but... what were you doing in Cassius's room so early this morning?"
I didn't slow.
I didn't even glance at him.
"None of your business," I said, the words sharp and flat, stretched long like a blade.
Lucas didn't respond right away.
When I finally looked over my shoulder, he had stopped walking, hands in his pockets, a small, tight smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.
"Okay," he said lightly. "That's fine."
He turned like he didn't care.
But he did.
I saw it — the quick flash of something raw before he masked it.
Guilt prickled at me before I could stop it.
Maybe I was being too harsh.
I hesitated, then called after him.
"Lucas."
He paused, looking back at me.
I shifted awkwardly on my feet, hating how unsure I suddenly felt.
"What do you think about forbidden magic?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound casual.
It didn't work.
Lucas's entire body went still.
The teasing spark in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by something hard, something wary.
He frowned, deep and sharp.
"Why are you asking that?"
I scoffed, trying to cover the sudden tension curling between us. "Forget it."
I moved to turn away.
But before I could, he grabbed my hand.
I reacted instinctively — twisting, trying to pull free — but his grip was firm, not painful, just... steady.
Unyielding.
I met his gaze sharply, every part of me ready to fight — but he didn't move, didn't flinch.
"It's forbidden for a reason," Lucas said, his voice low and rough, dead serious now. "That's what I think."
He let my hand go slowly.
His fingers brushed mine for a second longer than necessary — almost like he didn't want to — then dropped away.
His eyes stayed locked on mine, steady, unblinking.
I pulled my hand back against my chest, rubbing the phantom heat of his grip away.
Without another word, I turned and walked off down the hall, my boots striking the stone with sharper steps than before.
I didn't look back.
By the time I reached my quarters, the morning light was fully spilling through the high windows, washing everything in a pale, brittle gold.
I shut the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, closing my eyes.
My mind racing in a thousand directions.
Then I heard a knock, I was about to stand up but then Lucas pushed the door open and came inside.
He stepped inside and leaned his weight casually against the wall, arms folded across his chest.
"You don't trust me," he said, almost conversationally.
I snorted. "You needed to break into my room to figure that out?"
He smiled, but there was no real humor in it.
"I don't blame you," he said. "I wouldn't trust me either."
I tilted my head slightly, watching him warily. "Then why are you here?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "Habit, maybe. Stupidity. Or maybe I just felt like following you. You did just mention forbidden magic. And from the little i know of you, you're not one to ask that if there's no particular reason attached to it."
I frowned. "You don't even know me that much. I was just asking out of curiosity. You don't have to think too much of it."
Lucas's smile sharpened slightly. "You expect me to really believe that?"
I turned away, crossing the room to the window where the light fell weak and thin across the stone floor. "If you're looking for someone to play with, pick someone else."
"I'm not here to play with you," he said quietly behind me. "You don't need a play mate, and neither do I."
There was something in his voice — a raw edge — that made me glance back at him.
Lucas straightened, pushing off the wall, moving closer. Not too close. Just enough that I could feel the weight of him in the room.
"You're hiding something," he said, studying me. "I have never been wrong in my analysis and I do not think I am wrong this time around either. I would turn a blind eye normally, but." He stopped talking.
I swallowed, my throat tight. "I'm telling you right now that there's nothing going on. Seriously, don't make me regret asking you a question."
"No," Lucas said. "It's a good thing that you did."
We stared at each other across the small space — two wolves circling something too fragile to touch.
"You scare them," he said finally, voice low. "The King, the court, even the ones who pretend they don't see you. They can feel it — that you don't belong to them. That you can't be controlled."
I leaned back against the cold wall, feeling the truth of his words settle deep into my bones.
"I'm tired of playing by their rules," I admitted, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.
Lucas's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Good. Their rules were never meant to protect you anyway."
A silence stretched between us, thick and strange and heavy.
"You're dangerous, Athena," he said after a moment. "Not because of your power. Because you haven't decided yet what you'll do with it."
I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "And if I decide wrong?"
Lucas's expression didn't change. "Then I'll be the first to stop you."
There was no threat in his voice.
Only promise.
And for some reason, that scared me more.