Night was falling rapidly.
Shadows chased after the remaining traces of the sun, barely giving the villagers of Lindenshire enough time to prepare until everything was engulfed in darkness. Devoted wives lighted their homes, signaling their weary husbands to retire for the day, and small children waited with eager faces at the windowsill.
A raven hovered overhead, undetected against the blackened sky, its red eyes scanning over the throng of men coming from the wheat fields before pausing at the sight of the small group of knights that made their way to the local tavern.
The raven then tore its gaze away from the village and, without preamble, started gliding towards the dense forest at the north of it. It continued as such for a few minutes or so, until it started to descend into one of the small glades in the middle.
But what alighted the forest grounds wasn’t a raven.
It was a man.
What used to be a bird of no more than two feet in length turned into a towering six foot frame. Black feathers receded to reveal jet black hair, a pair of dazzling red eyes on top of a chiseled face, and an equally muscular body that could only be achieved through years of discipline and hard work.
The man stretched one sinewy arm but nonetheless stood still with seemingly no care for his nakedness, nor for the fact that he wasn’t alone.
“Your Highness, here are your clothes,” came the low whisper from beneath the trees.
Lucian Maximilian Regulus Asterius turned to his right where his royal retainer knelt, scarred face respectfully averted, as he held out a bundle of clothes. They were the usual ones they wore during missions like this—a black tight-fitting garment that covered from the neck downwards, tucked into black breeches that were light enough to permit quick movements. “Thank you, Gaius.”
Giving his retainer a dismissive nod, Lucian began clothing himself with swift precision. He donned everything within a span of what seemed like only a minute; he knew that his other companions would not give him the luxury of time.
The impatient remark he had been expecting finally came:
“Well, Lucian? Did you find her? Was our lead correct?”
Two men came into view, both with identical platinum blond hair that fell to their shoulders, light blue eyes and pale features. But while one was calm and withdrawn, the other was practically bristling with barely suppressed energy and aggression.
“Yes, I found her.”
Despite knowing it for a few hours already, Lucian admitted that the words still sounded surreal even to his own ears. He knew deep down what they signified—an end to a decade’s worth of searching.
Finally.
The twins were evidently shaken. Moisture softened their disbelieving eyes, and they were momentarily tongue-tied, as if they couldn’t process the news. Even Callisto, the elder of the two and the head of the House of Givilrae, looked shattered, a far cry from the serene mask he always wore in the capital.
Cillian spoke first, his mouth quivering, “A-are you sure it’s her? Are you sure it’s my sister?”
“Yes, I’m certain. I sensed her power, though severely faint. It’s probably the same thing that our spies felt when they were in this village. It’s fortunate that she was here at the time.”
“Celestine must have snuck out. I can’t imagine the duke risking to let her leave the estate, even with her powers sealed,” Callisto chimed in.
“Blood alchemy,” Cillian spat out, and ran a trembling hand over his face. “Those fucking bastards really did seal her with blood alchemy. The fucking audacity.”
As if alchemy wasn’t already a shameful mockery of true magick, blood alchemy was the most sacrilegious of them all, requiring living sacrifices to carry out. It was perhaps a fortunate thing that just like all imitations, its effects faded over time.
Unless they’re planning another massacre to strengthen the seal, Lucian thought bitterly. Those Aurelians wouldn’t let go of their prized pawn so easily.
“Fuck. Them. All. I want to rip their fucking heads off right now.” Cillian was vibrating with rage, his aura emanating from him in ruthless waves, prompting Callisto to place a warning hand on his shoulder.
“Control yourself, Cillian. We must be careful not to trigger any wards nearby.” Callisto’s tone was soft and bereft of any emotion, but the impact was immediate as the younger twin instantly repressed his aura. “What’s important here is rescuing our sister. We can’t afford any mistakes until we bring her home.”
“Sorry, you’re right, brother. First, we save Celestine.”
“Yes.”
“Then we get our revenge,” Cillian added, the deep, calming breaths he took belied the murderous intent in his statement.
Callisto nodded, a violent gleam passing through his eyes for a split-second before dissipating. He faced Lucian. “How is she? Would you know? Were you able to observe her closely?”
She... was perfect.
The thought came unbidden, catching Lucian off-guard. Much to his chagrin, he once again felt a heady rush of desire as the vision of Celestine resurfaced from his subconscious. Long, pale golden locks that looked like they were spun from sunlight. A small lovely face and a pair of arresting blue eyes that inspired feelings of protectiveness. Full, rosy lips that were definitely created to be kissed and teased. And a voluptuous body that promised of long nights of sinful pleasures.
Good gods, he wanted her.
The shock from this realization rooted him on the spot, throwing his mind in chaos. He had never wanted anyone—he had never let himself to, not after what happened to his older brother. He was the crown prince; he was above trivial emotions like lust and love. He had his duties to fulfill, especially with the war with Aurelia going on.
So what the hell was wrong with him? Why was he so affected by her, especially when her resemblance to her brothers were so strong? Having grown up with Cillian and Callisto should have made him desensitized to their features, but on her... they felt different.
Breathtaking.
Arousing.
"Lucian? Is there something wrong?"
Heat crept up to Lucian's neck, and he found it difficult to meet Callisto's gaze. “It's nothing. She… seemed to be under the impression that she’s the duke’s daughter. She spoke as if she was, and gave no indication that she understood her situation.”
“They must have repressed her memory, too,” Callisto said darkly.
“Damn it, if only I could shape-shift I could have gone in with you and we could have rescued her already.” Cillian muttered another curse under his breath and kicked an offending rock, catapulting it to a nearby tree.
“I was able to survey the estate. It’s heavily warded, with a considerable number of knights stationed in every entry point. I suggest we regroup with the rest and plan our next actions carefully.”
“What? We’re not getting her now?”
Lucian shook his head. “No, we did what we had set out to do, which was to verify her location—“
“But she’s right there,” Cillian protested hotly. “We could just—“
“No, Lucian’s right, brother. We would be putting her and ourselves in danger if we act rashly. What’s important is that we know where she is now, so we can focus on energies in rescuing her.”
Before Cillian could reply, Lucian was already striding into the forest where he knew Gaius was waiting along with their mounts. He braced himself for the night-long journey back to their hideout several miles from here, knowing fully well that he would be bombarded with so many questions about Celesine. No matter what, he was determined to block off any unnecessary feelings about her.
No matter how tempting she was.
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