Lucien's Pov
Her tears burned against my shirt, quiet and helpless. Each drop felt like it seared into me, igniting something dark that had been waiting for permission to surface.
She didn't know it yet, but that look in Raphael's eyes when his hand was around her throat changed everything for me.
The bastard had crossed the line.
I tilted her chin up so she'd meet my gaze. Her eyes were swollen, her lashes wet, but there was still a faint, flickering fire there, alive.
"You still want to play fair?" I asked softly.
She flinched at my tone; half-mockery, half-concern and looked away.
"I don't want to play at all."
I leaned closer. "Then you'll lose."
Her lips parted to protest, but I cut her off. "You can't fight people like Raphael and Amelia with dignity. You'll die trying."
Her brows drew together. "And what are you suggesting? That I become like them?"
"No." I smiled faintly, though it didn't reach my eyes. "I'm saying you should use me."
