WOLFLESS: Accidentally Marked By The Devil's Son-Chapter 118: Self Blame.
Chapter 118
The word mate hung in the air, vibrating with a significance that made the very shadows of the room go still.
Isabella felt the air leave her lungs. She had expected a rejection or a cold dismissal, but she hadn’t expected this. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎
"Worthy?" she echoed. The "hard girl" armor she had spent all day welding together was now a pile of scrap metal at her feet.
She searched his face for a lie, but his crimson eyes were drowning in genuine remorse. Lucian let out a breath, his hands clenching into fists to stop the trembling.
"I looked at you in that forest and saw nothing but a meal. I called you names that should never have touched your ears. From the very beginning, I treated you like a common scavenger."
He stepped forward until he stood just inches from the bed. "Every time I look at you," Lucian continued, his voice hoarse "I see the girl in that trap. I see the blood on my hands and the hunger in my eyes. I don’t blame you for rejecting me that night."
Isabella’s throat tightened. She looked at his buttoned-up shirt, the fabric straining across his broad chest, and felt a strange urge to reach out. "Lucian... you were starving. You weren’t yourself."
"That is the excuse of a coward," he snapped, the anger directed entirely at himself. He closed his eyes, his long lashes casting shadows against his gaunt cheeks.
When he opened them, the raw vulnerability was so intense Isabella had to look away. "I didn’t stay away because I loathed you," he whispered, the heat now a physical presence against his knees. "I stayed away because... because..."
His voice faltered. Lucian never stuttered.
"I loathe myself," he finally dropped. "I loathe the way I looked at you. I loathe the way I spoke to you. Every moment in that office, I was haunted by the version of me that first found you. I was terrified that if I walked through that door, you wouldn’t see a King. You would just see the monster from the woods."
He swallowed hard against his shame. It wasn’t the full truth. The jagged claw mark on his chest was burning, a hidden agony he was desperate to keep from her.
He could feel his thirst, too—a persistent roar in his veins demanding he sink his fangs into her sweet, stabilized pulse.
"I didn’t want my presence to be another burden," he whispered. "I thought if I stayed away, the air in this room would be easier for you to breathe."
Isabella stared at him, reeled in by his sincerity. "You’re a fool," she breathed, the word shocking her own ears. She reached out, her fingers grazing his black silk sleeve. Lucian flinched, his body jerking as if burned, but he didn’t pull away.
"I’m sorry," he rasped. "I’m so sorry for leaving you in the dark." The sight of the Great King of the Unholy apologizing shattered Isabella’s remaining defenses.
"No," she whispered, pushing herself up to a standing position on the bed. The charcoal silk of his shirt fluttered around her thighs, bringing her closer to his eye level.
"Don’t you dare apologize for being a monster back then," she said, her voice growing certain. "I should be the one apologizing. I doubted you. I let Caleb’s lies rot my brain, and I treated the bond like a disease instead of what it is."
She took a precarious step toward the edge of the mattress. "I forgive you, Lucian. I forgave you for the forest a long time ago. I just didn’t want to admit that the person I was supposed to hate was the only person who ever made me feel like I wasn’t a mistake."
Lucian looked up at her, his hands twitching, yet he remained frozen. The thirst inside him flared, screaming that she was right there, willing, open and his.
But hearing her words, hearing her take the blame upon herself, acted like a cold douse of water on his burning veins.
He couldn’t lose control. Not now. If he gave in to the hunger and sank his fangs into her neck while she was looking at him with such raw, beautiful trust, he would truly become the monster he loathed.
He couldn’t let her think that his restraint was so thin that her forgiveness was just an invitation to feed.
He had to prove to her—and to himself—that he could be more than just a predator. "Isabella," he rasped, his eyes darkening as he fought back the crimson haze in his vision.
He didn’t move away, but he didn’t close the gap either. He held himself with a rigid, agonizing discipline, his chest heaving beneath the tightly buttoned silk that hid the marks of her own claws.
"Isabella," he rasped, his eyes darkening as he fought the crimson haze. He held himself with rigid, agonizing discipline.
Isabella looked down at him, her heart swelling with hope. She saw the tension in his jaw, the battle he was fighting, and she silently raised her palm to his face. "Lucian."
The moment her palm touched his cheek, the world outside dissolved. Her skin was lightning against his winter-cold flesh.
Lucian leaned into her touch, eyes closing as her warmth anchored him. Isabella reached up with her other hand to cup his face, determined to tear down his walls.
Driven by a fierce necessity to bridge the void, Isabella leaned in. She was still shorter, forcing her to tilt her head back as she moved toward his lips.
Lucian’s entire body went deathly still. His breath hitched, and for a split second, he leaned back instinctively—not in rejection, but in a panicked effort to keep the predator inside away from her.
His eyes flew open, swirling with a terrifying mix of adoration and raw, starving need. His muscles locked, his throat working as he fought the urge to either flee the room or devour her.
But Isbella didn’t let him retreat. She closed the final inch and their lips met.
