Chapter 13: When do I move in, Your Highness?

Aritzea’s POV

This was a mistake and I should have known. A terrible, idiotic mistake. I could feel it the second the elders opened their mouths.

“Well arrange for you to move closer to Prince Lucian,” one of them said. “To ensure smooth cooperation, that is.”

I tilted my head. Closer? What did they mean by closer? As in, the same district? A house nearby? A room in the same building?

“And by closer,” another elder continued, oblivious to the rising tension, “we mean she’ll stay at his residence.”

His what? No. No fucking way.

I turned to my brother, already knowing there was no damn way he was agreeing to this. But again, before he could put in a word, he was cut.

His frown deepened even more that it already had and he turned to Lucian

“I refuse.” Lucian’s voice seemed serious. Very much unlike how he'd been the entire meeting.

I blinked.

He leaned back in his chair, looking completely unimpressed. “There’s no reason for her to stay at my house. We can work together just fine without that.”

The room went silent, everyone confused by his sudden change of demeanour.

I stared at him. Was he trying to get out of this? Oh, really?

I was just about to argue against it, but now that he was against it, suddenly it seemed like such a lovely idea. So instead of disagreeing, I forced a slow smile and nodded. “Actually, I think it’s a great idea.”

Lucian’s head snapped toward me. For the first time, he looked genuinely surprised. Inside, I felt a bit of pride for being the reason behind his surprise. Petty, I know.

The elders looked pleased. But my brother, Thorne, looked like he was about to explode.

Good.

Lucian, on the other hand, was not pleased. As we walked out, I caught the faintest trace of displeasure on Lucian’s face. A twisted sort of satisfaction bloomed in my chest.

I fell into step beside him, tilting my head up to look at him. “When do I move in, Your Highness?” I said innocently.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze moved over me, slow and assessing, as if he was reconsidering his life choices.

He better, I huffed inside.

Suddenly, he smiled. Not just any smile. A slow, knowing one that made something in my stomach tighten.

“Tomorrow.” He said. “I'll pick you up.”

I kept my face blank, but something about the way he said it made my skin prickle.

---

Packing was a complete disaster. How long was this mission going to be? What should I take along?

Thorne paced like an overprotective father about to marry off his only daughter. Odd analogy, but it was the only way to explain his anxious behaviour. My sister sat on my bed, gnawing on her lip, looking one second away from bursting into tears.

“This is a bad idea,” Thorne muttered, running a hand through his hair for the tenth time.

I shoved another shirt into my bag, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious, Aritzea. I don't like the look of that guy.”

I yanked the zipper shut and turned to him. “I also don't like the look of him.”

‘You damn liar,’ my wolf whispered. Shut up!

“I don't like him, but I'm not shrugging off my duty just because of that. Do you think I'm that weak?” I glared at him, daring.

His jaw clenched and he sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

I raised a brow. “Sure, it is.”

“You don’t have to do everything they say.”

I sighed. “I know that. But you also don’t have to nitpick everything I do.”

I slung the bag over my shoulder and kissed Lucia on the forehead. Stalking to my bike, I paused when the low purr of an engine echoed outside.

We all turned as a sleek, black sports car glided into the driveway like it belonged there.

Lucian stepped out, all dark clothes and blinding arrogance. A black button-down, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. Dark slacks tailored to perfection. Rings glinting faintly on his fingers as he shoved one hand into his pocket.

He looked like he had stepped out of a very expensive day dream.

Then his sharp gaze locked onto me. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.

“We have to go, darling.”

I made a face. What a drama queen. Beside me, Thorne bristled, clearly hating every inch of this guy. I don't even blame him. Vampires were known for their arrogance, but this dude was arrogance itself.

“I hate him,” he muttered.

I patted his shoulder. “I know.”

I turned to my sister, giving her a quick hug. She clung to me like I was heading off to war.

“You’ll be okay, right?” she whispered.

“Of course.”

“Come back alive.”

I laughed. How scary was this Lucian guy? “Obviously.”

Lucian walked over, reaching for my bags, something I didn't expect. I lagged for a second and he was already heading towards the car with my stuff.

Thorne immediately stepped into his path. Lucian paused, a brow raised.

“Excuse me?”

Thorne moved close, his voice low, dangerous and dripping with pure murderous intent. “If anything happens to her, I'll rip your head right off you—”

As expected of someone sharing the Duval blood. I wanted to cut in. To tell Thorne that he didn't need to. I was already going to do that myself.

But before I could, I saw Lucian tilt his head and murmured, “Your shirt’s inside out.”

The silence in the next second was deafening. Thorne went rigid and I lost it. A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.

Thorne glanced quickly at his shirt and when he looked back up, Lucian had already strolled back to the car, carrying my bags like he was the reasonable one.

Still laughing, I climbed into the passenger seat.

The drive was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Lucian didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t about to be the one to break the silence.

When we finally pulled up to his house—mansion—I reached for the door handle. It didn’t open.

I tried again. Still locked.

I turned to see Lucian watching me with interest, his fingers tapping lazily against the steering wheel.

“Um. Hello?” I frowned.

His lips curled slightly. “Hm. We need to have a talk before you go in.”

I narrowed my eyes. “About?”

His smirk deepened.

“The rules.”