The Dark Flower (Azriel x OC)

18. A Heart of Stone (Lucien)

Lucien kept his eyes on Persephone as the silence of the room weighed on him. This was it. Feyre was just minutes away from bringing them either freedom, or a lifetime of slavery. And yet... Lucien couldn't take his eyes off Persephone. 

She knelt at Lucien's feet, the pale green gown she wore was completely see through, hiding absolutely nothing. Normally she would have moved to sit beside her father, but not today. No, she hadn't even behaved as if she'd noticed him as she'd passed by, and Persephone always, always noticed when he was near.

And where Rhysand was, was beyond him. Normally he didn't allow Persephone more than a few feet distance and now... now there was something sinister at work. 

His gaze slowly lifted to watch Feyre instead. She was wearing the same disgusting tunic she'd had when she'd faced the Middengard Wyrm, but despite the reeking odor, she kept her head held high and her eyes focused on Amarantha. 

Blood red lips curled into a smile - lips that matched her crimson gown - as Amarantha took Feyre in. "Two trials lie behind you. And only one more awaits. I wonder if it will be worse to fail now - when you are so close." Her lips pursed into a pout and this was the time that most faeries would laugh, but it was only a few that were hissed out. 

Everyone else stayed silent. Even Lucien's miserable family didn't dare make a sound. Not when Spring Court's freedom could very well mean their freedom, as well. 

Amarantha's eyes heated with a furious glare that she cast around the room, but by the time her eyes centered back onto Feyre, she was smiling once more. "Any words to say before you die?" 

Feyre sucked in a breath before her gaze drifted up to Tamlin. "I love you," she told him. "No matter what she says about it, no matter if it's only with my insignificant human heart. Even when they burn my body, I'll love you." Her lips trembled and Lucien had to close his eyes to avoid letting her emotions affect him, as well.

Tamlin didn't respond and Lucien wanted to shout at him - to tell him that if there's ever been a moment to break his silence it was then. Feyre was... she was sacrificing everything for them. Everything. 

"You'll be lucky, my darling, if we even have enough left of you to burn," Amarantha told her in a falsely sweet tone. 

But once again, her words were met with silence, as if the masks were finally coming off. As if everyone was coming to the conclusion that this was it. Their last chance at freedom, and they wanted to face it with whatever shreds of dignity that they had left. 

Amarantha leaned forward, not done toying with Feyre just yet. "You never figured out my riddle, did you?" She smirked. "Pity. The answer is so lovely." 

"Get it over with," Feyre snapped back at her. 

Amarantha arched a brow and looked to Tamlin. "No final words to her?" He said nothing. "Very well, then." Her hands clapped together twice. 

A door swung open and three figures were dragged forward. Lucien could only tell that there were two males and a female - everything else was concealed by the brown sacks tied over their heads.