The Blood Contract
Chapter 43: That’s better

Chapter 43: That’s better

Serena took leisurely steps back toward Lucian, her bare feet silent against the cold tiles, stopping right beside him. She lifted her hand as if she wanted to touch the wound again, her fingers hovering just inches from his skin, and just as she anticipated, Lucian moved his shoulder away from her reach, his muscles tensing up.

Lucian didn’t understand. She clearly heard him say she shouldn’t touch him, and she was already leaving, the sway of her hips almost taunting, only to return and try to touch him again. Did she have a screw loose in her head?

Seeing how he had moved his shoulder away from her reach, Serena poked his forearm instead, the contact hard and deliberate, then she dropped her hand.

She put on a serious expression after that, observing him as if she was looking for something, her gaze sharp enough to carve secrets from stone. When a few moments passed, she frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Huh? Nothing happened," she said, her lips twitching slightly in annoyance, as if the universe had personally offended her.

Lucian blinked. What the hell was going on? And what was she saying? His confusion knew no bounds at that moment, a storm brewing behind his narrowed eyes.

"Wait!" Serena spoke again, her voice slicing through the silence like a blade. "Maybe I’m not doing it right."

She lifted her hand again as if to poke his arm, her fingers uncurling slowly. This time, Lucian didn’t move away, wanting to see what she wanted to do, and if possible, understand what was going on with her, his body rigid with wary curiosity.

But to his utmost surprise, instead of poking his arm, she went a step further and poked his head, her fingertip landing squarely between his brows, causing him to blink his already widened eyes, his breath hitching in his throat.

Serena dropped her hand and waited for a moment again, the air between them thick with unspoken tension, before a sigh escaped her lips. "Nothing happened still. Tsk... So disappointing," she uttered, then without warning she walked away from the bathroom and the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway, returning to her room. She climbed into bed and covered herself up from head to toe with the duvet, the fabric swallowing her whole like a cocoon.

Lucian stood in his bathroom flabbergasted, the cotton ball in his hand forgotten. Did she just poke his head? And what was the meaning of the nonsense she just rambled before leaving?

A disbelieving laughter escaped his lips as he dropped the ointment-soaked cotton ball in his hand and marched out of the bathroom, her room in mind, his bare feet carrying him forward with single-minded purpose.

Serena heard the door of her room open and she creased her brows wondering who it was, the duvet muffling the sound of her irritated groan.

She pulled the duvet off her head and turned toward the door only to see the person her mind had correctly guessed it was: Lucian, his silhouette filling the doorway like a shadow given life.

He had a deep frown on his face as he set his sharp gaze on her, the intensity of it enough to pin her in place.

"Bad character. Very bad character. When are you going to stop this habit of barging into people’s rooms without permission?" she shot at him, the words laced with venom. "Tsk... The day you walk into this room and find me naked, I’ll make sure I pluck out your eyes to teach you a lesson."

Lucian lifted a brow in surprise, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to laugh but he was in no mood for laughing. She sure knew how to spew threats but he was there for a reason.

"What was the meaning of what you just did in my room?" he asked, his intense gaze never leaving her face, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the space between them.

"Don’t ask me questions. Get out of my room. I want to sleep," Serena said instead of answering his question, her fingers tightening around the edge of the duvet. "And shut the door after you leave," she added, seeing how he didn’t bother to close the door after walking in, her patience fraying at the edges. After saying that, she covered her head up again with the duvet, lying back down on the bed, a clear dismissal.

Lucian became dumbfounded, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He stood on the spot, not sure if what he was witnessing was real or if he was dreaming it, the absurdity of the situation wrapping around him like a fog.

A few more seconds and he snapped, the last thread of his restraint unraveling. He walked to the bed, grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it off her body, the fabric fluttering to the floor like a fallen flag.

Serena’s eyes widened as she propped her body up with her elbow, shooting daggers at him with her eyes, her hair a wild halo around her furious face. "Are you crazy? What is wrong with you?"

"Answer my question," Lucian’s tone dropped an octave lower, and Serena felt a sudden chill run down her spine, the temperature in the room seeming to plummet. He suddenly sounded like a predator and she felt like tiny prey before him.

Although she didn’t let her fear show on her face, she decided to cooperate, so he’d get out of her space. As large as the room was, the entire place suddenly felt suffocating, the walls closing in with every passing second.

"What question?" she asked finally.

"What was the meaning of what you just did in my room?" Lucian repeated the question, the darkness on his face not lightening even for a bit.

"Saying thank you for helping me out and sorry that you got injured?" Serena asked, feigning ignorance, her eyes wide with faux innocence.

"Poking me and saying nothing happened. What was that for?"

"You keep saying, ’Don’t touch me, don’t touch me,’ as if you were some form of intricately arranged set of dominoes," Serena explained, throwing the words at him fearlessly, her chin lifting in defiance. "So I decided to poke you to see if your pieces would come tumbling down. Turns out there’s nothing exciting about you. You are just an uninteresting large chunk of ice."

Lucian looked like he had been slapped in the face by a teddy bear, his expression caught between outrage and disbelief. He had been given multiple names within the space of a minute. First he was an arranged set of dominoes; now he was an uninteresting chunk of ice.

"Now, will you return my duvet and get out of my room so I can sleep in peace?" Serena snapped him out of his thoughts, her fingers twitching with the urge to strangle him.

A wicked laughter erupted inside of Lucian when he heard her last request, but his face showed none of it, his mask of control firmly in place. He moved as if he wanted to oblige her, but suddenly grabbed her legs by her ankles, startling her, his grip unyielding as iron.

"What are you—Ahh..." She let out a short scream when he pulled her to the edge of the bed, his eyes darkening even further, the pupils swallowing the irises whole.

Before a word could escape her lips, his hand found her neck, his fingers wrapping around her delicate skin as he pinned her to the bed, the heat of his palm branding her.

With one leg planted on the ground and the other bent at the knee and swiftly going to rest on the bed beside her waist—so it looked like he was straddling her—he lowered his upper body slightly so he was looking her directly in the eyes, his breath mingling with hers.

"Don’t you know that if you want to sleep peacefully, you don’t go beating the drums of war mere seconds before it’s time to sleep?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, the words vibrating against her skin.

Serena swallowed, her heart beating like crazy, the rhythm erratic and wild. She didn’t know which one to concentrate on: between her anger, which had suddenly mellowed to a point where she was struggling to find it, or the feel of his hands against her skin, or was it the way her body was reacting to his position over her, every nerve ending alight with awareness.

He was holding her neck. Although his grip was not tight, he was still holding her neck. On a normal day she would never allow herself to be put in that position. She would fight with her last breath. But why wasn’t she fighting now? Why was she just lying there as if he had her remote control and had pressed the pause button, her limbs heavy with something she refused to name?

"Cat got your tongue? Can’t speak anymore?" Lucian asked, cutting her off her train of thoughts, his thumb brushing the frantic pulse at her throat.

"Take your hands off my neck," Serena finally found her tongue, but her words came out in the form of a near whisper, the command lacking its usual fire.

Instead of taking his hand off, Lucian tightened his grip around her neck—but not enough to block her airways—and she drew in a sharp breath.

"Come again?" He tilted his head as if he truly didn’t hear what she had said the first time, his voice a velvet threat. When she didn’t say anything further, he nodded his head slowly. "Now that’s better."