~Lucian’s POV

The bottle of whiskey was nearly empty, its contents swirling lazily as I tipped it over in my hand. The amber liquid was my only solace that night, the burning in my throat the only thing keeping me grounded. Marcus’s words wouldn’t leave my mind, no matter how much I drank to drown them.

Bella. Rallying forces. Preparing for war. Against me.

The thought gnawed at my insides, sharp and relentless. I stared at the fireplace, the flames dancing like echoes of the chaos in my mind. My hand trembled as I brought the bottle to my lips again, the warmth of the liquor doing little to numb...