Page 24 of Wicked Salvation

My laugh fills the room; it’s maniacal, reverberating through every part of my body. “You fucking fool. There’s nothing you can do now.”

Fire’s still in his eyes.

But something else is too—betrayal.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, turning his back and walking toward the door. “I’m still going to ruin your life, Peregrine-Ashford. But now, you’ve just made it a million times worse for yourself.”

Then he’s gone.

As if I give a fuck.

But as Lucian leaves the room, I find that I’ve used up the last bit of my strength on goading him. I flop backwards onto the floor, but I still have enough to take my phone out of my pocket. I need to know what the fuck this was about.

We need to talk. Come to the steps of the boys’ Dormitory in an hour.

That will giveme enough time to get cleaned up and make myself presentable. My phone chimes a few moments after. I squint my eyes, bringing the phone up to see the response. I already know what I’m going to see.

Anastazya:

Of course.

VI

LUCIAN

I’m made entirely of hellfire by the time I get to my cottage.

“I proposed to her yesterday, and she said yes.”

“You fucking fool. There’s nothing you can do now.”

It can’t be true.

He must have been saying that to get a rise out of me.

No, he wasn’t. It doesn’t even make sense. I try to fool myself. Silas Peregrine-Ashford IV loves to bluff—but about something like that? Something so easily verifiable? I don’t want to believe it’s true, but my heart sinks as I push the door open.

Before I left, I told Eden she could stay here as long as she liked.

As long as it took for her to manage her grief about losing Vivienne.

As long as it took for her to have that hard conversation with Silas.

Now, she needs to leave.

When I enter the room, she’s in the kitchen—trying to cook, it looks like? I’m not sure what made her sure she could do that. I doubt she’s cooked a day in her life. Her back is turned to me but my traitorous cock still stiffens in my pants.

She is wearing one of my sweaters, it’s big enough that it looks like a dress on her. One of her shoulders peaks out from the neckline. Her hair is wild and thick, sticking up at all angles. When she hears me enter, she turns around with a bright smile on her face.

Then it drops.

“Lucian, are you alright?” she says, rushing over to me.

Look at her, acting like she doesn’t know what she’s done. “Don’t touch me, Eden.”

She freezes just a few steps away from me.

“What are you talking about?” Confusion is all over her face as she looks over me. I’m certain I have bruises on my face and blood on my shirt. It’s not mine, though. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”