Beguile

3 Candies and Secrets

Lucas' POV

I made a mistake.

Perhaps it was the surge of excitement, the undercurrent of anger, or the overwhelming desperation, but I miscalculated.

I left Ken, just for a moment, a brief lapse in time to retrieve the candies. The ones that pacify her, the ones that erase her memories, rendering her docile and compliant, purring like the little kitten I’ve trained her to be. But no, the instant I return, there she is, tearing into some woman with her bare hands, primal, feral, like an animal in the wild.

Once again, I’ve failed.

Even though every step had been meticulously planned, even though I’d survived the past year, keeping myself in check, pretending to be the meek Prince Charming, but the truth? I can’t look at her without my fingers twitching, craving the delicate pressure of her throat beneath my grip.

And now, here she is, desperate, filthy, attempting to bury her sins. Her hands tremble as they claw at the earth, her fingers digging, even as tears stain her face, leaving her a disheveled mess. A beautiful, pathetic mess.

I can’t deny it. The sight of her ignites something dark within me, something raw.

I shift uncomfortably, but it’s useless.

She’s the reason I’m trapped in this nightmare, and yet, even now, despite the fury coursing through me, I cannot tear my gaze away. Because standing over the fresh corpse is no longer the quiet, obedient girl I’ve controlled for months. No. This is something else entirely. And I can’t help but wonder that the princess might be back.

*

My finger tapped against the table as I stared out over the forest from my bedroom. The moonlight poured in, silver and soft, casting shadows that danced with the sway of the trees in the wind. It all felt so peaceful.

Except for the fact that the band on my wrist was glowing red.

The game had set off.

I exhaled a slow breath, closing my eyes, letting the silence stretch. My ears strained, catching every creak, every whisper of the night outside. Then I started counting.

Three… two…

One.

The door opened, so soft I might’ve mistaken it for a mouse’s squeak. But when I turned, Kay was there, his back pressed against the now-closed door. His beautiful features were twisted in anger, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with barely contained rage.

“This was your plan, wasn’t it? Your perfect fucking plan?”

His voice was sharp, the kind of tone that didn’t need volume to cut deep. He didn’t move from the door, just stood there, his chest rising and falling.

I leaned back in my chair, “Good evening to you too.” 

“Don’t give me that calm, collected bullshit. Not after what just happened.”

“You're overreacting.” I stand on my feet, squaring up my shoulders.“Perhaps it’s just meant to be this way. Some things can’t be changed, no matter how much you want them to.”

Kay barked a laugh, short and humorless. “Meant to be? That’s the excuse you’re going with? Don’t pretend you’re some philosopher. You’re just as deep in this shit as I am.”

I pressed my lips flat, leaning on the edge of the table as I let my eyes roam over him, dissecting every twitch of his jaw, every flicker of emotion that crossed his face. He was a creature of impulse, driven by emotions. A man, and an angry one.