The Blood Contract
Chapter 48: Happy survival

Chapter 48: Happy survival

Serena arrived in front of Lucian’s door with a tray of food in her hand, Darrell standing beside her, his presence a silent reassurance.

"Be careful, ma’am," he whispered to her, the words barely audible, before he released a knock on the door, the sound sharp against the heavy silence.

"I said I don’t want to be disturbed." Lucian’s voice boomed from inside, the force of it vibrating through the wood.

"I’m not here to disturb you. I only brought food for you." Serena announced from the outside, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her chest.

"I’m not hungry. Go away." Lucian dismissed, his tone final.

"I’m not going away," Serena signaled to Darrell, and he drew in a long breath, his shoulders tensing before moving to open the door, making sure he remained outside.

Serena paused as soon as she stepped in, her eyes quickly scanning the area for any threats that may come her way, every shadow a potential danger.

When she sighted no immediate threats, she settled her gaze on Lucian, who was looking at her with a deadly dark gaze that pinned her to the spot, his eyes like shards of ice. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t move any closer for fear of her life, the air dense with unspoken warnings.

When she first entered the room, she had thought she would see him on the bed, resting. But he was seated on the floor, with his back against the side of the bed, shirtless, one leg straightened on the floor and the other bent at the knee, his posture a mix of exhaustion and defiance.

"Do you have a death wish?" His voice reached her ears, low and dangerous, and she swallowed, her throat dry.

"It’s you who will die if you don’t eat before taking that medicine." Serena responded, shocking herself at her own boldness. Wasn’t she supposed to just say no? "Can I come in?" she asked, the question hanging between them.

"No. Go back out." Lucian responded, his voice leaving no room for argument, and Serena’s lips twitched, irritation flickering across her face.

"Stop being stubborn," she complained, her tone edged with frustration, and when she saw he wasn’t yielding, she added, "If you agree to eat, I promise I’ll attack you less and listen to you more," the words slipping out before she could stop them.

A sudden laughter erupted from within Lucian, the sound rich and unexpected, like music to her ears. That was the first time she would hear him laugh, and she wished she wasn’t so far away so that she could see his face properly as he had turned away from her, his amusement a rare sight.

"Is that supposed to be a bribe? Or is that pity I hear in your voice?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism, and Serena let out a scoff, rolling her eyes.

"Who’s pitying you? I just don’t want you to die before you learn some manners. You have too many bad characters that need correcting. How will I do that if you die now?" Her words were sharp, but there was an undercurrent of something else—concern, perhaps.

"You want to teach me manners?" Lucian asked, his eyebrow arching, his expression disbelieving.

"Yes. As your wife, it is my responsibility to take care of you, and taking care of you includes teaching you things you’re not good at." She took a cautious step forward, then paused again, her pulse quickening. "For example, how to knock before entering people’s rooms and how not to be an uninteresting chunk of ice." She repeated the words she had used to describe him the night before, her voice teasing. "This food is getting cold." She pointed out, gesturing to the tray.

"Bring the food here." Lucian spoke after a while of observing her silently, his gaze unwavering.

Serena let out a breath of relief and moved to drop the food on the exact spot his finger was pointing at on the floor, her movements careful. Her eyes flicked to the wound on his shoulder for a moment, the sight making her stomach twist, but she reminded herself to stay focused on the duty at hand, pushing her worry aside.

"What about your other responsibilities as my wife? Why are you talking about just one?" Lucian asked, watching as she lowered herself to drop the tray, his voice dropping to a murmur.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Serena responded, a scowl coming to settle on her features, her cheeks warming despite herself.

"Should I remind you?" Lucian asked with no sign of jest on his face, his tone deliberate.

"Keep your reminder to yourself. I don’t need it." She stood up and took a few steps away from him, watching as one side of his lips curled up into a smirk, the expression infuriatingly smug. "Can you eat with that hand, or should I assist you?"

"I’m not disabled. You can leave." His reply was curt, his gaze dismissive.

"I’m not leaving. How will I ensure you eat before taking the medicine if I leave?" She crossed her arms, refusing to back down.

"I’m not going to eat with you standing here, so if you want me to eat, you better leave. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to die today. After all, I still have to learn some manners, don’t I?" His voice was dry, but there was a hint of amusement beneath it.

Not wanting to push her luck further, Serena walked out of the room, leaving him alone, the door clicking shut behind her.

Relief washed over Marlowe when she saw Serena return to the living room, but confusion registered on her features seeing how she came back empty-handed, her brow furrowing.

"You didn’t die." Darrell spoke in a relieved voice, his shoulders relaxing. "Happy survival."

Serena let out a lighthearted laughter, the sound bright in the tense air. "Of course not. I’m the wife."

"Did he eat?" Marlowe asked, her voice laced with concern.

"He said he would, and then he asked me to leave." Serena responded, plopping her butt down on the sofa.