The Hidden Monster of House Vale

Lucien was drinking wine in the morning light, his golden hair cascading freely around his shoulders, catching the pale sunlight that streamed through the window. He remembered everything that had happened the previous night with Rena. Every detail. Every moment. Every desperate look in her eyes.

He didn't care.

Lucien did not see her as a threat. He didn't see her as anything at all. She was simply... there. A piece on a board he had already moved past.

The door to his chambers opened without a knock—only one person in the entire estate would dare such an intrusion. Celbeth strode in with her characteristic lack of ceremony, her presence filling the room like a warm fire. She was his only retainer who treated him as something other than a noble to be revered. She treated him as a friend. Sometimes, if he was being honest with himself, as something more.

Lucien remained facing the window, watching the gardens below, when Celbeth's arms wrapped around him from behind. Her warmth pressed against his back, her chin resting on his shoulder. He wasn't surprised—he never was when it came to her. And he loved being hugged. Loved the simplicity of it, the lack of pretense.

"I heard you lost the trial of imperial succession," she murmured, her breath warm against his ear, her arms still locked around him.

"Yeah, I did," Lucien replied, taking a slow sip of his wine. The bitterness rolled across his tongue, familiar and grounding.

"I thought you would be upset. I mean, this is your first loss, right?" Celbeth's voice carried genuine curiosity, but no pity. She knew better than to offer him that.

Lucien smiled—a small, knowing curve of his lips. "Well, you weren't there. It wasn't me who lost. Princess Sylvie gave up while I was choking Anne. I knew she would. It was crystal clear."

Celbeth pulled back slightly, her brow furrowing. "Why would she do that? Is she stupid?"

Lucien chuckled, low and amused. "Don't think about it. Everything is still in our control. Anne is now on Princess Sylvie's side, so that's a good thing."

Celbeth's hands slid from his shoulders down his chest, her fingers tracing the fabric of his tunic with deliberate slowness. "That bitch does look hot, don't you think... Lucien?" She emphasized his name, drawing it out like honey.

Lucien turned to face her, catching her wandering hand in his. "I feel like you've always wanted to seduce me," he said, his voice dropping to something quieter, more intimate. "Is there any reason?"

Celbeth's eyes met his, unflinching. "Do you hate it?"

"No."

"Then don't complain and let me enjoy," she said, her smile sharp and satisfied.

Lucien released her hand, allowing her fingers to resume their exploration of his chest. "By the way," he said, his tone shifting to business, "did you complete the job I gave you?"

Celbeth nodded, her expression turning serious. "Yeah, I did. I planted the poison potions in Prince Andrin's room."

"And did you see his accounts? His money?"

"Everything matched perfectly. I stole his funds and left the potions in his chamber. When the investigation happens, his missing money and the found potions will align perfectly. He'll take the blame for poisoning the water supply and the dungeon swamp."

Lucien's smile widened, genuine approval flickering in his eyes. "You're getting good."

"I learned from the best." Celbeth stepped closer, her body brushing against his. "The only regret I have is that I failed to watch your fight. I was planting evidence in Prince Andrin's chamber at the time."

"Don't worry. They might have recorded it, or you can see it later." Lucien reached for her, his fingers tangling in her hair. His mouth descended on hers, and the kiss was deep, consuming—as if he intended to drink her dry. When he finally pulled back, Celbeth was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

His hand slid to the small of her back, drawing her impossibly closer. His eyes searched hers, dark and intent. "What happened?" he murmured against her lips. "Is that all?"

Celbeth's laugh was shaky but genuine. "You're insatiable."

They both turned at the same time, drawn to movement beyond the window. Dain was sitting in the garden, watching the maids work. His posture was relaxed, almost predatory, his eyes tracking their movements with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

"What the fuck is he doing there?" Celbeth's voice was flat, dangerous.

"Language," Lucien chided, though his own expression mirrored hers. "But still... what the fuck is he doing there? I thought retainers were supposed to protect their masters. He's just eyeing my maids."

"Seems like he's desperate," Celbeth observed.

Lucien's eyes narrowed, a cold smile spreading across his face. "Hmm. Makes me want to play with him. What do you think?"

Celbeth's lips curved into something wicked. "I would love to. Let me prepare something for Dain. It's been a while since I've seen any blood." She leaned in, kissing Lucien again, and this time he let her linger.

Dain's eyes roamed over the maids, but there was one in particular who held his focus. Maisy. He didn't love her—he didn't love anyone—but he wanted her. Wanted to devour her. To possess her completely, to feel her vulnerability under his hands. She was a simple mortal, unworthy of the breath she drew, and that very fact made her irresistible.

He was desperate. But he wasn't stupid.

Lucien was a cautious man. He didn't trust anyone, especially members of branch families who had been invited into his home. Dain knew he was being watched, so he forced his gaze away, feigning disinterest. But in his mind, he was already planning.

This maid of the Vale family looks delicious. How can I devour her? I need to find an opportunity to make her alone. Let's see.

His patience was rewarded when he spotted Celbeth speaking with Evelyn, the head maid. He strained his ears, his enhanced hearing catching every word.

"And make sure that the security is tight," Celbeth instructed. "The entire Vale family is going to have dinner at Alde House."

Dain's heart quickened. The Vale family would be gone. The estate would be virtually empty. This was his chance.

It seems like no Vale family member will be in the estate. This is my opportunity. I can't let it slip away. Tonight, I'll finally have her.

The evening arrived faster than Dain had anticipated. For hours, he had been waiting, his excitement building with every passing moment. Before setting his plan in motion, he made sure to create a perfect alibi. He informed everyone that he would be cultivating in the forest and wouldn't return until morning.

It was a lie, of course.

He pretended to leave, disappearing into the treeline, but once he was certain no one was watching, he circled back, his stealth ability masking his presence completely. He slipped through the shadows of the Vale estate like a ghost, his heart thrumming with anticipation.

His plan was simple. Hide in Maisy's room and wait for her. When she returned, he would take what he wanted. And if she screamed? No one would believe a mortal maid's word against his. The Vale family would see it as a servant's hysteria, nothing more. His alibi was solid. By morning, he would be in the forest, and Maisy would be broken.

He crept through the hallways, navigating by memory, and entered the small servant's quarters. The room was modest—far smaller than anything belonging to the Vale family. He slipped behind the thick curtains, activating his stealth ability, and settled in to wait.

Midnight came and went. Dain's patience was fraying, but then he heard it—the creak of the door opening. A figure entered the room, silhouetted against the dim moonlight.

A woman.

She began removing her clothes, and Dain's breath caught. His mouth went dry, and a predatory smile spread across his face. The room was pitch black—she couldn't see him. She had brought another set of clothing with her, likely to change into for the night.

Perfect.

His heart raced, not with fear, but with raw, unbridled excitement. He had imagined this moment for so long. Ever since he first laid eyes on Maisy, he had wanted to devour her. To touch her. To hurt her. Her vulnerability excited him in ways he couldn't explain—she was a simple mortal, no match for a Realm Master. And that made her perfect.

His mouth watered. Sweat beaded on his brow. He stepped forward, silent as a shadow, and positioned himself behind the naked figure. His hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream before it could begin. His other hand roamed over her body, greedy and hungry, like a wolf that hadn't eaten in months.

He threw her onto the bed, his body covering hers. He leaned down to kiss her neck—

She bit his lips.

How? The thought flashed through his mind, dissonant and wrong. She's a mortal. How does she have this much power?

But he pushed the thought away. It didn't matter. She wasn't stronger than him. He could overpower her easily.

She screamed.

The sound was familiar, but his lust-clouded mind couldn't process it. He punched her across the face, his fist connecting with her jaw.

"Don't make this hard for yourself," he snarled. "Just let it happen."

She struggled beneath him, and he pressed her harder into the mattress.

"Don't fight it. No one is here to save you."

And then—light.

Every candle in the room blazed to life simultaneously, illuminating the space in harsh, unforgiving brightness. Dain froze, his eyes darting left and right like a cornered animal.

He turned his head slowly, and his blood turned to ice.

Everyone was there. Lord Vale, Lady Vale, Lucien, Celbeth, Evelyn—and Maisy. Standing among them. Watching him.

His gaze snapped back to the woman beneath him, and his heart sank into a pit of cold dread.

Rena Vale.

The woman he was supposed to protect.

The woman who had entrusted him with her safety.

The woman he had just attempted to violate.

His lust evaporated in an instant, replaced by a terror so profound it stole his breath. He scrambled off the bed, trying to cover his naked body, but it was too late. Everyone had seen. Everyone knew.

Rena immediately covered herself with the bedsheet, her face streaked with tears and terror. Lady Elora, Lady Rosebeth, and Lady Liley rushed to her side along with Maisy, Celbeth, and Evelyn. They surrounded her, their voices a comforting murmur as they shielded her from his gaze.

Lucien and Lord Vale stood frozen, their eyes burning with a fury that could rival the sun. Dain had never seen such hatred on Lord Vale's face. The man's lips were bloodied—he had bitten them so hard they split.

Then Lord Vale spoke, his voice a low, guttural growl that seemed to shake the very air.

"Lucien. Give him a punishment so painful that people will tremble just by hearing about it."

Author Note:

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