The Blood Contract
Chapter 101: Can’t I decide

Chapter 101: Can’t I decide

"I drove into the river. That’s why?" Lucian said, his voice rough but steady. He caught the panic blooming in her expression and the way her feet hesitated to move toward him, despite what he suspected had been her initial impulse. His gaze lingered on her face, trying to read the reason for her hesitation.

"What?" Serena’s voice was sharp with disbelief, slicing through the silence that had cocooned the room. "What did you do that for? Are you hurt?"

She found the courage to close the distance between them, her footsteps quick and unsteady. Her eyes scanned him with urgency, searching for any visible injuries as she stepped closer, each second pulling her deeper into the chaos of concern that had seized her heart.

"I’m fine. You don’t need to panic, it’s nothing serious. I needed to drive into the river to get here," Lucian replied, brushing off her concern with the same ease that water might roll off a waxed surface. His words were meant to comfort her, to put her at ease, but they did anything but that. Serena’s eyes remained fixed on him, and something in their depths confused him.

That morning, those same eyes had burned him with a fire of hatred and accusation rolling off her like thunderclouds in a storm. And now? Now, they held worry. Something warmer. Something he was desperately trying to deny existed, but with every second, that denial crumbled just a little more.

"I’ll go clean up," he said, brushing past her with casual dismissal, the water from his clothes dripping onto the floor in a slow trail behind him.

Serena turned slightly to follow his movement, and that was when her gaze dropped to his chest, and her breath caught once more.

"Wait. You are injured, and bleeding as well."

Her voice carried an edge of alarm now, her concern mounting as her eyes locked on the dark, wet stain spreading around the area of his upper chest.

But Lucian didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down.

"It’s just glass. Nothing serious. Don’t worry about it," he said with the same maddening calm, still walking away, leaving her rooted in place and stunned.

Serena’s instincts kicked in, and she rushed forward, overtaking him just before he could disappear from her line of sight. She stood right in front of him, planting herself as a solid barrier in his path.

Her hands rested firmly on her hips, a deep, disapproving frown etched into her features. Her lips parted to say something, but before either of them could speak another word, a soft, distinct bell chime rang through the air, echoing lightly through the stillness of the space.

Serena blinked, confused. "What was that?" she asked, her brow furrowed in bewilderment as she turned her head toward the front entrance.

"That’s Anika. Can you please answer the door?" Lucian said.

Serena’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Who’s Anika?" she asked, but Lucian was already moving again.

"The lady that brought you here. I’ll be in the bathroom," he answered over his shoulder, vanishing around the corner and out of sight, his voice trailing behind like the tail of a passing breeze.

Serena stood for a moment longer, watching the empty hallway. "How did you know it’s her?" she muttered under her breath, eyes now fixed on the iron door at the entrance. "And how do I open the door?"

No answer game.

The silence pressed against her ears. With an exasperated sigh, she stepped toward the door, scanning its panel with narrowed eyes. Her memory pulled up the moment Anika had opened it earlier, from the outside. There had to be a mechanism, a switch, something.

And then she saw it, a small button labeled open. Serena pressed it tentatively.

The door shifted with a smooth mechanical hiss, unlocking with a low click, and true to Lucian’s word, it was the same woman who had first brought her to this place.

Anika stood there holding a wicker basket in both hands. It was woven tightly, its surface dampened slightly by the chill night air, and Serena could see the tops of raw vegetables and sealed packages peeking out over the rim.

"They’re uncooked," Serena said, lifting an eyebrow as she stretched her hand to take the basket from the woman’s outstretched arms. Her voice was flat, as if the woman had somehow missed that small but vital detail.

"Yes. Lucian likes his food uncooked. He prefers to prepare it himself," Anika replied evenly, offering a polite nod.

Serena’s head tilted slightly in acknowledgment, realization dawning in her mind. She collected the basket with a small nod of thanks, and without another word, Anika turned and walked away, her figure swallowed up by the darkness beyond the door.

Serena pressed the next button, and the door sealed itself with another soft click. She turned around, hugging the basket to her chest, her thoughts already shifting back to Lucian and the blood she’d seen soaking his shirt.

He had claimed it wasn’t serious. But Serena wasn’t one to take empty words at face value, not after the last time. She set the basket down on the kitchen counter and immediately began her search.

It didn’t take long. One of the bathroom doors was slightly ajar, and she could hear the faint sound of water running within. She stepped inside without knocking, her worry overriding any notions of privacy.

Lucian stood bare-chested, his shirt tossed to the side. His skin was damp, and he had begun cleaning the wound already. Her eyes landed on the gash, and her breath hitched. It was not as ugly as the one that was given with the poisoned dagger, but it was a deep cut nonetheless.

"Oh my god, this is not ’nothing serious,’" Serena exclaimed, her voice sharp with alarm as she rushed toward him.

Lucian turned to her, a hint of exasperation dancing in his eyes. "What are you talking about? It’s just a scratch."

"A scratch?" she scoffed, grabbing the cotton ball from his hand without hesitation. Her fingers were gentle but determined. "That was exactly what you said the last time. And you remember how it ended," Serena shot back, already dabbing the soaked cotton against his skin.

Lucian exhaled, staring down at her hands, then back up at her face. "I can do it myself."

"And I can do it for you. Don’t you dare refuse," she snapped, her voice firm.

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, like fog settling between them. Lucian’s eyes locked onto her face, his gaze intense. But Serena didn’t return the gaze. She focused on the wound, her lips pressed into a tight line.

"I didn’t know you knew how to cook," she said quietly after a moment.

Lucian raised a brow. "Who told you I know how to cook?"

"The lady upstairs just brought food. And they’re all uncooked. She said you prefer to cook them yourself."

Lucian remained silent, saying nothing in return. A flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes, so quick it might’ve gone unnoticed. He didn’t trust people easily. Everything he did had layers, motives buried beneath motives.

"Why did you decide to eat out tonight?" he asked suddenly.

The question came like a ripple breaking the still surface of water.

Serena’s heart skipped a beat.

"Why are you asking me that? Can’t I decide to eat out whenever I want?" she said defensively, her voice sharper than intended. She focused her gaze on the wound, avoiding his eyes.

"Is it because I canceled on my plan to take you out tonight?" Lucian pressed, his voice quiet, but heavy with meaning.

Her chest tightened, and she hated that he could guess that so accurately.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she muttered. "I felt like having seafood, and I went for it. Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking."

She pressed the final piece of gauze against the wound, harder than necessary, and Lucian winced subtly, but said nothing.

She didn’t wait for his reaction. She moved abruptly, wiping her hands on a towel and storming out of the bathroom.

An annoyed frown settled over her features as she walked away.

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Been days with no updates. Do forgive me. Life gets in the way sometimes. I’ll try to do better moving forward. XOXO