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Music and laughter filled the grand hall of Castle Dellamorte, where the celebration for Lucanis’ ascension to the title of First Talon was at its peak. Everyone wanted to congratulate him, shake his hand, toast in his name. But Rook watched him from afar, in silence, a barely perceptible smile on her lips, as she saw him cast his charm with that irritating ease.
“You should go talk to him.” Viago’s nonchalant voice startled her. He was beside her, his gaze sharp.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rook tried to disguise it, bringing her wine glass to her lips.
Viago chuckled quietly, crossing his arms.
“You look at him as if the rest of the world ceased to exist. It’s almost painful to watch.”
“You’re imagining things.” Rook replied, trying to sound indifferent.
“I’m just saying…” Viago shrugged. “Don’t hide what you feel. No one deserves to live with regrets, not even a stubborn crow like you.”
Before she could respond, Viago was already disappearing into the crowd.
Rook lingered there for a moment, feeling the echo of his words. Her eyes returned to Lucanis, who finally seemed to have a moment of respite, stepping away from the guests and heading to the balcony.
Her heart pounded.
Maybe now… maybe this was her chance.
Taking a deep breath, she walked toward him. When she finally reached him, he was leaning against the railing, gazing at the lights of Treviso in the distance. The breeze ruffled his dark hair, and for a second, Rook had the strange sensation that he already knew she was there.
“Finally got a moment to yourself?” Rook asked, trying to sound casual.
Lucanis turned, his face illuminated by a serene calmness.
“It seems so. But not for long, I presume.” He observed her, his eyes studying her intently. “In fact, I was waiting for you.”
Rook raised an eyebrow.
“Waiting for me?”
“Yes. I thought this would be a good time for us to slip away discreetly.” He was already starting to walk toward the empty corridor.
“Wait… the party is for you.” She followed him, trying to match his long strides.
“Well… I have other plans for the night.” Lucanis glanced over his shoulder, a near-smile.
Rook felt her heart hammering in her chest. She followed him through the vast, silent corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing against the cold marble. But her mind was elsewhere—stuck in the past week, in that damn night when she almost kissed him.
She could swear she had felt his breath against her skin before Lucanis pulled away, his expression closed off, as if battling something he couldn’t explain.
Why did she always go back to him, even when he tried to push her away?
Maybe it was something she had learned from her mother—a silent habit of insisting, of not giving up on someone so easily.
“Where are we going?” she asked, trying to push the memories aside.
“You’ll see.” He answered, that sideways smile that always disarmed her reappearing.
They descended a long spiral staircase, the sound of their steps echoing off the stone walls. At the end of the corridor, Lucanis pushed open a set of double doors, revealing a garden bathed in the silver light of Treviso’s moon. Red roses climbed the stone columns, and a lake reflected the soft glow of the night sky, surrounded by floating aquatic plants.
“Wow…” Rook whispered, amazed. “This is beautiful.”
“This is my favorite place.” Lucanis confessed, his voice softer than usual. “Few people know it exists.”
Rook eyed him suspiciously. “How many people have you brought here, huh?”
Lucanis smirked, his gaze darkening as he watched her.
“With you… just one. I thought you’d like it.”
“I… I did.” She smiled, surprised by his gesture.
That’s when Rook noticed Lucanis beginning to undo the straps of his armor, a movement so natural to him. With ease, he removed it, revealing his muscular, bare chest. The soft moonlight kissed his tanned skin, highlighting scars.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her heart racing.
“I’m going for a swim.” Lucanis replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, starting toward the lake. He stopped and looked at her, his expression challenging. “Are you just going to stand there?”
The blood drained from Rook’s face. Swimming. Her chest tightened, memories of cold water wrapping around her body as a child, the waves pulling her under, the muffled sound of her father’s laughter echoing in the distance. “You’ll never be strong if you don’t face your fears, Rook,” he had said as she choked on water, struggling in vain to surface.
“Anyone could come and…” She tried to argue, searching for an excuse, but Lucanis only raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t know you were a coward.”
The words struck like a blow. Her father had called her a coward too, after finally pulling her out of the water, drenched and gasping for air. He never looked at her the same way after that day. The shame burned in her memory, and she felt her face heat up.
“I am not!” Rook retorted, her tone firmer than she actually felt.
“Then come swim with me.” Lucanis teased, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Before she could respond, he removed the rest of his clothes. The world seemed to slow down, and for a moment, Rook stood there, frozen. He was completely naked. She turned away, trying to hide her reaction, her whole body burning with embarrassment. Not fair, she thought.
“Rook is a coward.” He said, his voice echoing in the garden.
“Someone could hear you!” she replied, still turned away.
“So what?” Lucanis sounded utterly unconcerned. “Are you afraid we’ll get caught?”
“That’s not it.” She replied quickly, her voice trembling.
“Then come here.” He challenged again, diving into the water.
She watched him swim effortlessly, muscles moving under wet skin as he crossed the lake with grace and power. The water didn’t intimidate him. To him, it was natural… freedom.
She wanted a piece of that.
Taking a deep breath, her trembling fingers touched the straps of her armor. Each movement felt heavier than the last, as if every piece she removed made her more exposed, more vulnerable. When she was finally naked, a shiver ran through her skin, the cold wind touching her harshly. Her scars were bare; she stood there, vulnerable in body and soul, before Lucanis. Yet, strangely, he didn’t look away. He watched her with an intensity that made her heart falter.
She forced herself to step toward the water, but her feet stopped at the edge, her toes touching the icy surface. Panic crept into her chest.
Lucanis swam to the shore, his face partially submerged, dark eyes locked onto hers.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked softly, his voice a disarming whisper.
“I’m not afraid of you.” She answered quickly.
“Then what is it?” He narrowed his eyes, a trace of concern in his voice.
Rook clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t show weakness. Not again.
"Nothing."
With a nearly imperceptible movement, she took a hesitant step into the icy water.
The cold struck her like a knife, but she didn’t step back. Every inch sinking into the water felt more painful than the last. Her knees trembled, and the water slowly rose to her waist.
Lucanis watched her closely, his eyes fixed on her every movement. He swam closer, stopping just a few inches away—so close she could feel the warmth of his body despite the cold water.
“You’re trembling.”
“It’s just… the cold.” She lied, looking away.
He smirked, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he could see right through her.
“Then I’ll warm you up,” he whispered.
Before she could think too much, she felt his fingers grip her waist, pulling her gently. His touch was firm, warm—so different from the freezing water that enveloped her. The contrast made her skin prickle, and she hated knowing it wasn’t just because of the temperature.
The water rose to her chest, and Rook held her breath. The liquid weight surrounding her made her tense, her body rigid, unsure how to react. Lucanis noticed.
“I won’t let you sink,” he said, his voice husky and low.
His gaze was intense, but not mocking. He wasn’t teasing her now.
His fingers brushed lightly along her sides, as if to reassure her that he was there, that he could hold her.
“So… is this some sort of rite of passage?” She tried to sound casual.
Lucanis let out something like a chuckle, the sound echoing through the garden.
“No, Rook,” he replied, his eyes locked onto hers. “This is just something I wanted to do… with you.”
The world seemed to stop. Rook looked at him, her heart racing. He was so close, so real… as vulnerable as she was.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.” Lucanis’ voice was a husky whisper.
Rook couldn’t look away. His dark hair was wet, strands clinging to his forehead, highlighting his strong features. She lifted a trembling hand to his face, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. His stubble scratched her skin lightly, a sensation that made her shiver. Rook didn’t look away, keeping him locked in her gaze.
“Then why did you pull away that day?” She asked, the pain of that memory still throbbing in her chest.
Lucanis closed his eyes for a moment, as if battling a thought that consumed him. When he looked at her again, there was something dark in his gaze.
“Because I didn’t want to drag you into my world, Rook. I don’t want to hurt you…”
“You don’t have to protect me from yourself.” She replied, her voice firm.
“It’s not that simple.” He looked away, his shoulders tense. “If something happened to you…”
“I thought…” Rook began, her voice hesitant. “I thought you didn’t want me around.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Rook,” he whispered, anguished, holding her slightly tighter. “I can’t.”
Rook remained silent, her heart aching. She hadn’t expected to hear that, not like this. Gently, she reached for a stray lock of her own red hair that had fallen stubbornly over her face. Before she could tuck it behind her pointed ear, Lucanis moved faster. With a soft gesture, he brushed the strand away, his fingers grazing the delicate skin of her cheek. The touch made her heart stumble.
“You always do that,” he murmured, his tone soft, almost affectionate.
“What?”
“Tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re nervous.” A teasing smile played on his lips. “I find it… charming.”
Rook felt her cheeks heat up. She wasn’t used to hearing him speak like this.
“I’m not nervous.” She tried to sound indifferent, but her voice trembled.
“Of course not.” He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the stillness of the garden.
Lucanis raised a hand, his fingers sliding down to the bare skin of her back beneath the water, tracing small circles against her sensitive skin. Rook shivered again, the muscles in her stomach tightening slightly at his touch.
She tried to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. Her heart pounded, and Lucanis was so close she could feel his breath warming her chilled skin.
The world seemed to shrink until it fit only in the space between them.
For a moment, she forgot about the water. She forgot about the fear.
There was only Lucanis Dellamorte—and no pain.
Turning a bad memory into something good… She never imagined that could be possible.
“Amber de Riva…” he called softly, clicking his tongue against his teeth, his gaze lingering on hers—warm, intense, challenging.
Her name had never sounded so right as it did coming from his lips.
He leaned in a little more, his forehead resting against hers, his lips so close that breathing felt dangerous.
“Lucanis, I…” Her voice failed, the words escaping before she could stop them.
But Lucanis didn’t let her finish.
Then he kissed her.
The cold water vanished, the garden disappeared. All that remained was the heat of his kiss, the taste of coffee…
It was an overwhelming kiss, deliberate, from someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His lips claimed hers with exasperating precision, shaping the kiss so she could feel every sigh, every stolen breath, every frantic heartbeat. The touch was firm, dominant, but at the same time reverent, as if he were savoring her, memorizing her, etching her into himself.
Lucanis’ mouth was hot, fierce, as if he wanted to claim her once and for all. Rook could feel the urgency in every movement, as if he feared she would slip away. But she wasn’t going anywhere.
The cold water surrounding them clashed violently with the heat he poured over her. The wet skin made every touch burn more, every point of contact more sensitive. When Lucanis pulled her closer, their bare bodies met without any barriers, and the intensity of the sensation made Rook moan against his mouth.
It was unbearable to feel so much and still want more. As if even skin against skin wasn’t enough.
His lips trailed down slowly, hot against her skin, leaving an invisible trail where they passed. With quiet determination, as if he already knew exactly where he wanted to be. The shiver came before Rook could stop it—an inevitable reaction, almost annoying in its honesty.
She gasped and instinctively tilted her head back, exposing more of her neck to him. A silent invitation, a mutual surrender.
Lucanis accepted without hesitation.
His lips brushed along the line of her neck, starting gently, as if mapping every inch of exposed skin, but soon the touch became more demanding. His tongue traced her collarbone, his teeth dragging slowly.
A trembling moan slipped from Rook’s throat, and Lucanis couldn’t help but smile against her skin. He had her in his hands now, body against body, the two of them immersed in the cold water. Each touch, each kiss was an affirmation that there was no turning back.
He pressed a kiss just below her ear, slow and possessive, and the soft moan that escaped Rook only encouraged him.
“You smell so good …” Lucanis murmured against her skin, his voice low and husky, satisfied.
Rook clung to him, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Her heart pounded chaotically, as if trying to keep up with the flood of emotions washing over her. The scent of Lucanis surrounded her—smoke, leather, and something slightly woody—a mix that was already his, familiar and devastating at the same time.
Lucanis let out a slow breath against her neck, almost as if relieved, his warm breath calm against her skin.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. A wave of nervousness rose in her throat. What she was about to say felt enormous, almost impossible to contain within herself.
Then, without realizing it, her head rested against his shoulder, as if her body knew before she did that this was where she was meant to be.
“I… I love you, Lucanis.” Rook whispered, her voice trembling, as if the words carried more weight than she had imagined.
He pulled away just enough to look at her, surprise flashing across his face, as if he hadn’t expected to hear those words.
“Could you repeat that?” he murmured, his voice husky, laced with a hint of teasing.
Rook let out a quiet laugh, the warmth in her cheeks still there, but this time, without that trace of embarrassment. She moved a little closer, her fingers trailing slowly across his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing beneath them.
“I love you, Lucanis,” she repeated, this time with more certainty, her gaze locked onto his.
He smiled back, his expression softening as he murmured with a calmness that contrasted with the intensity of the moment.
Lucanis leaned toward Rook, his hand gently cradling her face. He studied her for a moment, his eyes conveying something she couldn’t quite decipher.
“I love you too, mio amore.”
With a slow, deliberate motion, he kissed her lightly on the cheek, as if that simple gesture was enough to heal an old wound.
"I’m afraid that one day you’ll realize I’m not good enough."
Rook smiled softly, a sweet relief settling over her, as if she had lifted a weight off her shoulders: "That day will never come."
“Mierda, what do you see in me?” Lucanis asked.
Rook pretended to think, pressing her fingers to her lower lip, as if seriously considering the question. She only noticed a single strand of hair falling over his forehead.
“You’re quite handsome, you know.” she said, drawing out the words with a playful smile.
Lucanis seemed amused by that, his mouth curving into a rare, genuine smile. He almost never smiled like that, and whenever he did, it was so subtle that it seemed more like a reflection of the moment rather than something intentional.
“Oh… so you think I’m handsome, do you?” he said, his tone softer, more seductive. “Personally, I prefer you.”
He winked at her, and Rook lowered her gaze, trying to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks. After a moment, he said:
“Amber?” His voice was serious.
She would never get used to how easily he said her name.
Rook lifted her eyes, meeting Lucanis’ brown gaze, shining under the soft moonlight—someday, she would ask for a photograph of them
He didn’t look away when he said, almost in a whisper:
"Thank you for saving me.”
The sincerity in his tone hit her harder than any words ever could. Rook wanted to say something clever, to push the moment away, but the warmth of his words anchored her in place. Her fingers moved instinctively to her ear, lightly touching it, trying to ground herself.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly, the words barely a whisper, her voice betraying the shyness
Lucanis leaned in. His lips brushed against the very tip of her nose—delicate, almost imperceptible.
“I just…” His voice was low, almost a hum against her skin, before he pulled back slightly, his eyes never leaving hers.
And then, without warning, he kissed her chin—softly, gently, and just as quickly, as if testing her.
Her heart pounded so loudly she thought he could hear it. There was a flutter in her stomach, a mix of excitement and anxiety—this is real.
Lucanis leaned in again, his lips brushing against hers with a sudden. The kiss was deeper this time. His warmth enveloped her, pulling her in with an urgency that made her head spin. She felt a flicker of his tongue brushed lightly against hers, a delicate movement. It wasn’t just the kiss; the way his hands hovered near her, the way her body seemed to respond to his touch before her mind caught up. The sensation of him was everywhere, and she felt herself falling. Rook thought might cry.
But in that moment, there was only Lucanis and the way his lips moved against hers, the way his breath mingled with hers, soft and steady.
His voice was barely a whisper, lost in the kiss: “Grateful.”