Page 30 of Necromance
Despite my best efforts to stay detached, my thoughts always wandered back to him though.
I scolded myself inwardly as I sliced the carrots with too much force, the knife pressing down a little harder than necessary. What was wrong with me? Why did his presence unsettle me so much? Why did I allow myself to grow curious about him? I should have kept my distance.
It’s just a ghost, I reminded myself, as though saying it aloud wouldsomehow make it true.Or whatever he is.
But the thought of him still lingered. The way he’d leaned in so close to me, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. The way he spoke, like he was always aware of some secret I was too afraid to uncover. I shook my head and forced the thought away, focusing back on the stew. It was just… absurd. He was trapped in that painting, unable to escape his own prison. I wasn’t going to fall into some romantic delusion about a ghost—no matter how real he seemed.
And yet, the teasing smile he wore, the way he looked at me… I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe he wasn’t as far out of my reach as I wanted to believe. But he was, I reminded myself. He was a Duke, regardless of his… deathly predicament… and furthermore, once I figured out how to break his curse, he’d be gone, along with all the other inhabitants of Ravenspire… Including Serena.
“He’s a curse,” I muttered under my breath. “Nothing more than a curse.”
The broth bubbled gently, steam rising from the surface in an inviting spiral. I stirred it a little more gently now, as if the movement could calm my erratic thoughts. Lucien was just a puzzle to be solved. A mystery, one that required distance. Not… whatever this was that made my heart race when he looked at me, when he stepped into the room with that self-assured smile.
It was nothing more than my own curiosity, a professional fascination. That was it. There was nothing more.
“Are you mumbling about me?”
I spun around, my heart racing as his deep voice cut through the air. I wasn’t mumbling… was I?
Lucien’s figure leaned lazily against the kitchen door frame, the soft light from the hearth casting a warm glow over him. He looked effortlessly composed and it made me grit my teeth.
I felt the irritation bubble up in me, along with a flush of heat in my cheeks that had nothing to do with the stew. “How did you appear without being summoned?” I demanded, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. I was annoyed—and more than a little flustered—but I had to admit, there was something infuriatingly captivating about him, standing there so casually like he belonged.
Lucien’s grin spread across his face, devil-may-care, as if this whole situation were a game that he was winning.
“But youdokeep summoning me.” His voice dropped an octave, deliberately teasing, and he pushed himself off the doorframe, stepping closer into the kitchen.
I clenched my jaw, glaring at him as I struggled to regain some semblance of control. “I most certainly do not,” I snapped, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the space,making the air between us crackle.
“Oh, but you do, witch,” he said with a tilt of his head, his eyes dark and mischievous. “You seem to enjoy me more than you’re willing to admit.”
I took a step back, turning my attention back to the pot of stew, though the tension in the room was almost suffocating. “I’m making dinner,” I muttered, hoping the mundane task would ground me. “Unless you’re here to help, I suggest you find somewhere else to be.”
He chuckled, that low, gravelly sound sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “Seems you could use the help.” He paused, eyes drifting to the bubbling pot. “You do look a little… distracted.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to let him get under my skin. “What do you want, Lucien?”
He smirked. “Isn’t that the question?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping lower, and I could feel his proximity like a weight pressing down on me. “Why don’t you tell me what you want since you’re the one who summoned me.”
”If I summoned you, it was purely by accident.”
He hummed and I could feel the vibration through my body. “Come now, Mia. You’re telling me that youaccidentallysaid my name?”
I froze, the spoon in my hand hovered over the simmering stew as I looked at him. What could I say to that?No, you’re right, Lucien. I was thinking about your sultry eyes, your tempting mouth, and the way your verypresence makes my blood feel too hot for my body…I looked away. My face heated.
”Perhaps,” I mumbled instead.
Lucien’s wickedly tempting lips curved into a delicious smirk and I didn’t need to wonder if he knew I was lying. It was written all over his face. Thankfully, he didn’t press me further.
”Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked quietly, the humor fading from his voice and when I looked up at him again, I could see the silent concern in his eyes. I knew what he was asking. After what had happened the night before, would I be alright alone? His hand brushed against mine lightly where it rested on the counter, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to make my breath stutter.
”Of course not,” I managed, though even to my own ears, my voice sounded weak.
He didn’t respond immediately, instead, he leaned closer. The air thickened again, and for a moment, the stew was all but forgotten. “Are you sure?” He probed, eyes searching mine. I met his gaze, smiling in hopes that it would reassure him that I wasn’t a damsel in distress.
“I’ll be fine. You should go look for more clues while I finish here.”
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, and I found myself at a loss for words. I should have snapped, or made some sarcastic remark to demand he leave, but all I could do wasstand there hoping that he wouldn’t.
