The Blood Contract
Chapter 79: Spend the night

Chapter 79: Spend the night

Serena stood quietly by a corner of the room, her arms folded tightly across her chest as Marlowe administered another dose of the medicine to Lucian the moment they returned to the mansion. Her eyes stayed fixed on him, worry etched into every line of her face.

Lucian had been extremely weak, his usually steady frame trembling slightly with every breath. And this time, no matter how hard he tried to keep up appearances, no amount of willpower could mask the truth—he couldn’t hide his condition anymore from the people around him. The weight of his exhaustion was too evident, too raw to be dismissed.

Although Darrell and Adrian continued working as though nothing was happening, she knew how affected they were and that they were only distracting themselves with work. She, however, couldn’t do it.

The syringe caught the pale light in the room as Marlowe injected him with the medicine—swift and steady. His chest rose and fell in an easy rhythm once it took effect. The tension in his brow eased, and the lines of pain etched across his gaunt face softened.

Marlowe straightened, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, already turning to step out of the room. She’d barely made it past the edge of the bed when Serena’s voice rang out, sharp and insistent.

"Marlowe."

The name struck like a tether, halting her in her tracks. She turned slowly, meeting the younger woman’s eyes. There was no mistaking the look Serena wore—suspicion, confusion, and something dangerously close to accusation.

"Yes?" Marlowe’s voice was calm, but her heart skipped.

"Did you lie to me?"

The question made Marlowe blink. "Lie to you? About what?"

Serena took a step forward, arms folded, eyes burning with frustration. "About having the ability to heal."

Marlowe exhaled, the air leaving her in a sigh too heavy to be casual. She nodded once, slowly. "I didn’t lie to you, Serena. You do have the ability to heal."

"Then why is he still sick?" Serena shot back without hesitation. "I’ve been close to him for days—days, Marlowe. I even tried combining our blood, just like at the council. I thought maybe that was the key. But nothing! He’s still like this. Still... slipping."

Her voice cracked under the weight of her worry, frustration lacing every word.

Marlowe opened her mouth, the beginnings of an explanation forming, but the shrill chime of her phone broke the moment like a blade. She glanced at the screen, relief flashing briefly in her eyes—a much-needed escape from Serena’s spiraling questions.

"I have to take this," she said quickly. "I’ll explain things to you once I’m done."

And with that, she turned on her heel and disappeared out the door, already speaking into the receiver before she vanished.

Left alone, Serena sighed and let her shoulders fall. Her chest felt tight, emotions knotted and confused. She stood there for a while, eyes fixed on the doorway Marlowe had disappeared through, trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind.

Eventually, she turned back toward the bed.

Only to freeze.

Lucian’s eyes were open. And they were on her.

Her heart jumped. Wasn’t he supposed to be asleep? The medicine should have knocked him out for hours.

"Why are you awake?" she asked, brows knitting together as she moved toward the bed. "The medicine is supposed to make you sleep."

Lucian shifted slightly, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips despite the pallor of his face.

"I think your argument woke me up," he said. "And I don’t feel sleepy anymore."

He paused, then added, "In fact, I’m feeling quite good."

Serena stared at him, confused. "Really?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Marlowe’s medicine is finally working," he lied smoothly, the smile still lingering—just enough to be believable. He’d overheard her conversation. He knew her mind was a storm of questions, and the last thing he wanted was for her to dig any deeper.

Serena gave a long exhale and lowered herself to the rug beside the bed, folding her legs beneath her. She sat there, the soft fibers of the carpet pressing against her skin as she looked up at him, a visible weight lifting from her shoulders.

"I’m so glad to hear that," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "I was beginning to worry."

Lucian watched her, the warmth in her expression making something in his chest ache—an ache deeper than his illness.

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

"Don’t say something to provoke me," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You always do that, and it’s not funny."

Lucian laughed. A real, open laugh that filled the room. It was the first time in what felt like forever.

Serena blinked. She watched him, stunned into silence. He looked different when he laughed—beautiful, even. The sound lit up his face in a way she hadn’t expected. But the joy also brought sharp contrast to his condition—how pale and thin he had become, the bones of his cheeks more defined than ever.

When his laughter faded, Lucian shook his head, his gaze still locked with hers, a weak smile lingering like an echo of something gentler, something almost human.

"I wasn’t going to provoke you," he said, his tone quieter now, as though the weight of the silence between them had sobered him. "I only wanted to ask why you’re so worried about me."

He paused, eyes searching hers, and when he spoke again, his voice had softened into something unfamiliar—unguarded. "Some time ago, if someone had given you the chance to kill me, I’m sure you would have taken it. But now... now it looks like you’d cry if anything happened to me."

Serena frowned, her brows drawing together. "I’ve never wished you dead," she said firmly. "I’ve never wished anyone dead, actually."

She leaned back slightly, her fingers brushing the texture of the rug as if grounding herself. "I just hated that I was forced to marry someone I didn’t know. And worst of all, someone with a very bad reputation and attitude."

Lucian raised a brow, tilting his head slightly. "A bad reputation and attitude?"

"Very bad," she emphasized, giving him a pointed look. "I’d heard about you even before I met you. I didn’t know how much of it was true... but after meeting you, I realized it was all true. You are—no offense—a terrible person."

Lucian chuckled again, the sound low and rough, but not unkind. Her bluntness was unexpected—refreshing, even. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken to him so directly, so unfiltered. Not out of malice, not out of fear. Just... truth.

And she wasn’t wrong.

He was every inch the man people whispered about behind closed doors. He knew what he had done—the choices he had made, the people he had hurt. He had built his empire with blood-stained hands and a heart long calloused over. Her words didn’t offend him. If anything, they echoed with a kind of clarity he rarely encountered.

"You know all that," he said, his tone still tinged with amusement, "and yet here you are. Worrying about me. Don’t you think the world would be better off without someone like me in it?"

His voice was calm, almost too casual for the topic, and that was what made it unsettling. Serena’s posture tensed. She didn’t like how easily he toyed with the idea of his own death, like it meant nothing. Like he meant nothing.

"That’s because I realized that although you’re terrible," she said, her voice quieter but unwavering, "you’re not irredeemable."

She held his gaze, her next words landing like an anchor.

"You saved my brother, after all."

Lucian tilted his head slightly, watching her with quiet curiosity. "So you’re doing all this because of your brother?"

"That’s only part of the reason," she replied, giving a small shrug, her voice soft but steady.

She glanced away for a moment, her fingers moving to the hem of her dress, fidgeting with the fabric as if trying to ground herself. The pause stretched between them, delicate and uncertain.

"I know I’ve thanked you before," she said, her voice a little more hesitant now, "but I want you to know that I’m really grateful. I appreciate what you did for Elias. You didn’t have to, but you did. I don’t know how to repay you... and it’s hard, because you don’t seem to lack anything."

Lucian’s eyes sharpened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never wavering from her face.

"If you want to repay me," he said, voice dropping to a low, smooth drawl, "there’s one thing I’m lacking."

Serena blinked, startled. She looked up at him, brows knitting in confusion.

"And what’s that?"

Lucian held her gaze for a moment longer before speaking, the words slipping out like silk.

"A companion for tonight," he said, as serious as ever. "Spend the night with me, Serena."

Serena’s eyes widened in shock, lips parting slightly. She hadn’t expected that—didn’t know what she had expected, but certainly not that.

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