The Blood Contract
Chapter 86: Nothing will happen to her

Chapter 86: Nothing will happen to her

Lucian floated in a space that wasn’t dark, nor light. Just... quiet. The kind of silence that wraps around the bones, numbs the mind, and blurs time.

There was no pain here. Just stillness.

His body had given up, but something in him—some quiet, stubborn part—refused pto let go.

Then it came. A warmth, soft and strange, blooming beneath his ribcage like a slow-burning fire. At first he thought it was a dream. But then the warmth grew, surged, and suddenly it wasn’t warmth—it was life.

He felt it flood his veins, awaken his heart with a shuddering beat. Life and strength slammed back into his body all at once. His lungs convulsed. He coughed, gasping like he’d been drowning underwater for hours.

His eyes finally snapped open.

Blinking through the haze, his vision slowly sharpened, and that was when he saw her. Serena. She sat beside him, her face gradually losing the worry in her eyes as a weak smile took over. She looked alright at first glance, but he soon noticed that her face was pale, too pale.

That was when his mind began working in overdrive and he discovered what was happening. He registered his sudden strength, followed by her hand holding his. Did she just do what he thought she did?

Lucian’s heart kicked harder—not from healing, but from panic. He instantly withdrew his hand from hers as if that would reverse what she had done.

"Serena," he rasped, voice dry as ash as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, flinging his legs off the bed.

Serena’s lashes fluttered as she struggled to keep herself awake. The relief on her face was nothing compared to the one that washed over her heart like a tide. She tried to widen her smile but it remained weak.

"Who gave you permission to die, stupid?" she whispered the question, light gradually fading from her eyes.

Lucian moved to hold her, his arms wrapping around her shoulder. "What did you do?" he croaked.

She didn’t answer. Her glow faded, Her shoulder sagged, And her eyes shut as all strength left her and everything turned black.

"Serena!" Lucian called out her name in panic, shaking her slightly to see if she would stir or say something. But silence was the only sound he got. He shut his eyes, cradling her as her body went limp in his arms. Her skin was cold. Not deathly—but close. Like her soul had been wrung out to bring him back from the edge.

Lucian was already boiling with rage, his eyes dark with fury as he threw Marlowe, Darrell, and Adrian sharp, accusatory gazes that could slice through steel.

Tension crackled in the air, thick and suffocating, but he said nothing—his silence more threatening than words. Without a word, he bent down, gently scooping Serena into his arms.

His movements were careful, almost reverent, in stark contrast to the storm brewing within him.

Lucian didn’t spare a word. Not one glance, not a single breath wasted on the three people left behind as he carried Serena’s unconscious body down the corridor.

His jaw was clenched tight, the veins in his neck visible, his rage simmering just beneath the surface—but his arms, the way they held her, were the gentlest they’d ever been. As if she might break if he shifted her wrong. As if her body, fragile and limp against his chest, held the weight of the entire world.

He pushed her door open with a nudge of his foot and stepped inside. The air was cool, still, scented faintly of her. He walked to the bed and lowered her slowly, carefully, laying her down like she was porcelain. His touch was delicate, reverent. He adjusted the pillows, ensured her limbs were comfortably arranged, and pulled the blanket over her with painstaking precision.

Lucian stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning her face. She looked peaceful. Pale, but peaceful. Her chest rose and fell, the only sign that her soul hadn’t slipped away. He let out a shaky breath, one he hadn’t realized he was holding, and crouched beside the bed.

A few stray strands of her hair clung to her face. He reached out and brushed them back, his fingers trailing slowly along her temple before he ran the back of his knuckles down her cheek. Her skin was still warm—thank the stars. But too still. Too quiet.

"You better not die on me now, you stubborn thing," he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse with emotion. The words trembled with unspoken things—anger, fear, guilt. His chest tightened painfully, like a fist had wrapped around his heart and squeezed.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

She had made the choice. She had taken the risk. She had given him another chance at life. The weakness, the pain he’d endured just the day before had vanished, completely. He felt renewed, as if he’d never been on the brink of crumbling. But she’d paid the price for it. She’d given something of herself, of her own life. And that knowledge burned like acid in his gut.

Lucian stared at her face, willing her eyes to open. Willing her to sit up, roll her eyes, call him a jerk. But she remained still. Breathing, yes, but unconscious. And his panic, though held back by her breath’s rhythm, threatened to claw its way out from behind the iron bars of his control.

He stood up slowly, gaze lingering on her for another second, and then turned sharply. The fire that had simmered behind his eyes began to rise again, and this time, he let it burn freely.

He flung the door open and stormed out, Marlowe, Adrian and Darrell on his mind. What made them think he deserved a chance to live and she didn’t?

He already knew he was dying, and had accepted his fate a long time ago. He didn’t want the kind of salvation Serena offered. He wanted her to live even if it meant he wouldn’t.

His long strides brought him quickly back down the hall, and before he even reached the room he’d left earlier, he saw them—Marlowe, Adrian, and Darrell. No longer in his room, but now standing outside the door like soldiers awaiting judgment. Their eyes snapped to him the moment he appeared.

Lucian halted.

The air grew heavy with tension, his presence swallowing the corridor in silence. His expression was unreadable—but his eyes were ice. And they were locked on Marlowe.

She took a small step forward, inhaled like she was preparing to face a beast—and perhaps she was.

"Mr. Draven," she began quickly, seeing the way his gaze had zeroed in on her, "please understand—I had no choice. She would have broken down beyond repair if we had let you die."

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. The fire lit in them was nothing compared to the steel in his voice when he finally spoke.

"Better me than her, Marlowe," he growled. "The instruction was to keep it a secret."

His voice, though low, reverberated through the corridor like thunder. It was the calm before a storm—dangerous in its restraint.

"It was my fault, sir," Adrian suddenly stepped forward, his voice quick, full of guilt and urgency. "I was the one that—"

"Adrian," Marlowe snapped, spinning to face him with a sharp glare. "Shut your mouth. I will not let you take the blame for this."

Adrian’s eyes widened very slightly in surprise, before he pressed his lips together in initial hesitation.

Lucian’s gaze flicked from one to the other, assessing, weighing, calculating. He saw the truth there, even in the silence. Marlowe had tried to protect Serena, and Adrian had—out of either recklessness or compassion—played a part in betraying the instruction.

Marlowe was about to continue speaking, but Adrian, unable to bring himself to let her take the blame, spoke up before she could.

"Sorry, doc, but this is my cross, I’m going to bear it." After saying this, he shifted his attention to Lucian once more. "I’m sorry, boss. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault. She kept to your word until the last minute, but I could not bear to watch you leave like that, especially when I saw that madam was willing to help. I spilled the secret, not the doctor."

"If anything happens to her—"

"Nothing will happen to her Mr. Draven. I believe she will be okay. I’ll go get that injection for her. Hopefully by tomorrow she will be awake and alright." Marlowe cut Lucian off, refusing to entertain the thoughts that anything would go wrong with Serena. "I’ll need you to drive me there Adrian." She added, intentionally choosing Adrian to avoid Lucian unleashing his anger on the guy.

Adrian nodded and followed Marlowe out, leaving Darrell and Lucian.

Darrell kept his eyes lowered, but his heart was heavy. He worried for Serena, but in the mood Lucian was in at that moment, he couldn’t even ask if she was alright or request to see her.

Lucian looked at him for a few seconds before returning to Serena’s room once more.

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