Chapter 232: To Wyfn-Court.
Alaric arrived, freshly dressed and exuding his usual air of authority, though his stride was sharper than usual. The news of the attempted arson on Jean had reached his ears while he was on his way to his chambers.
But instead of heading there, he pivoted and made his way toward Jean’s quarters. If there was one place he was sure to find answers—and Lucius—it was there.
When he reached the door, he knocked firmly, announcing himself. "It’s Alaric. Open up."
The door swung open almost instantly, revealing Lucius. The old vampire stood tall, his presence crackling with unspent rage.
His dark eyes shimmered with barely restrained fury, the kind that seemed ready to ignite at the slightest spark.
"You have to kill that woman before she spirals," Lucius said without preamble, stepping aside to let Alaric in. His tone was cold and absolute, as though he had already planned ten different ways to eliminate the threat.
Alaric moved further into the room, his brows arching. "Why didn’t you do it yourself last night?" he asked casually, though the glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
Lucius let out a sharp exhale, the frustration clear in the clench of his jaw. "Jean stopped me," he admitted, his voice laced with irritation. "She begged me not to. And you know how impossible it is to say no to her when she looks at me like that."
Alaric smirked, his expression half-amused, half-skeptical. "The great and terrifying Lucius, tamed by a single look. I never thought I’d see the day."
Lucius shot him a glare, though it lacked real venom. "Mock me all you want, boy, but Jean has a way of making even a centuries-old vampire question his instincts."
Alaric chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re whipped, old man."