CHAPTER 21
Third Person POV
The silence that followed Marcus's departure was heavier than the mist. Lucian didn't move for a long time.
He stood like a statue of salt, his back to the tree, his chest still heaving with the effort of fighting off the holy-burn.
The command he had used on Marcus had cost him; exerting that level of mental authority while his physical body was failing made the marks on his neck—the handprints from his own attempt to strangle Isabella—begin to blacken.
Behind the tree, Isabella felt the air return to her lungs. She stepped out of her hiding place, watching him warily.
"Who was that?" she whispered. "He called you 'Sire.' Isn't that... like a King?" Lucian whirled around so fast she didn't see him move.
He grabbed her by the front of her hoodie, dragging her fully from behind the trunk. His eyes were blown wide, the pupils swallowing the irises.
