The Twisted Court

Chapter Eight.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. The alcohol still strummed through my veins, making me want to slide down the wall and cry. Cry out for the man inside who wanted Lucenta, not Lucy. However, here I stand in front of Wesley. The gorgeous drink of wine that I wanted initially, but I no longer immediately ignored the signs of a man approaching me. 

He extended his cigarette to me, and I took it with surprising calm as my insides were rattled. All I could think of to calm me was that I was Lucy. I am Lucy. I am the person that I know. I have to thrive off that knowledge, not the knowledge others want me to be.

However, I was shaken by Jax's indulgence in me. People know me. They do not have to reveal it. They can trick me. They can use me.

Just like men in the mortal world. 

As much as I began to despise the immortal world that I faced, I remained calm on the outside as my surprisingly unshaken fingers brought his cigarette to my lips. I took a long drag and let my hand fall away. I let the smoke slowly leave my lips, attempting to buy myself time to figure out what to say. The smoke filled the space between us, and I took a settled step back from him once more to create space. Yet, that resulted in my back hitting the brick wall behind me. My muscles tensed as I stared at him like a trapped animal. My left hand went to the hem of my shirt, barely hiding my dagger's hilt. My fingers trailed the hilt of my sweater to hide that I was preparing myself to grab my dagger.

"I remind you of someone you hate?" I eased as I exhaled more, purposefully blowing smoke in his face. He staggered forward, and my eyes quickly scanned his body. My mind may be a mess between the alcohol and the fucked up situation, but this man was drunk.

"Lucenta," He breathed. My entire body tensed, but my voice remained calm. "Do I act like this person?" I questioned. My inner thoughts barked out a laugh at the dumb question. I am here. My looks give me away if someone knows me; it is not like he forgot the person he hates. Anyone can spy on someone they hate a mile away. Hell, I could spot a woman I hate while out to brunch with my friends and immediately tell them the latest thing that woman did to me.

Her name is Cathy, and she knows what she did. Yet, was any of that real? Another wave of emotion surged through me as I blinked away the tears and prayed that it looked like I was blinking away the smoke.

A part of me wanted to know, begged to know. I wanted to see if I resembled this queen or heir to the Gods. How was I supposed to follow in her footsteps if I knew absolutely nothing? 

He extended his hand for the cigarette, and I peacefully returned it. Our hands briefly touched, and an electric shock shot through me. He stated he hated Lucenta, but gods, this feeling just from a brief touch made me want to shutter. What was this? Who was he?

He shook his head. "No, she would never be in a place like this nor talking to me this way." He almost grumbled, and I somehow knew he despised the person I was supposed to be. How did he not recognize me? But as his eyes carefully caressed my body, I saw their soft glaze. He was drunk. Hell, I was drunk. I had to leave this conversation before he clicked the two together.

Yet, it was so easy to let his eyes roam with curiosity, and his beautiful features kept me intrigued. I realized I remained frozen because I wanted to know more. "I was named after her; I represent-" I paused, not knowing what to say because the lie abruptly left my lips before I could think, but his golden eyes met mine. They were so intense and beautiful. I almost did not want to speak anymore; I became lost in them. "Death." He said. I thought it would be disgusting to say that, but how he looked at me made me feel in awe. The way he told me, death rolled over my skin, leaving a trail of bumps.