Chapter 8: Damon Is Coming Back

Faye's POV

I woke up with my lower back still aching, Thor's sleeping profile inches from my face. Something stirred in my chest as I watched him — something I wasn't ready to name.

I could feel what he felt for me. When I'd first brought him home, he was nothing more than a convenient outlet, a body to take the edge off the hunger that lived under my skin. But his loyalty — the way he put himself between me and the world, again and again — had started to crack something open inside me.

I wasn't going to sit with that. I got up, grabbed my cigarettes, and headed out.

Lucy was already in the hallway.

Before she pulled her door shut, I caught a glimpse of Lucian sprawled across her bed. Then she sauntered over to the staircase railing, leaned against it, and fixed me with that particular look of hers — the one designed to draw blood.

"So," she said. "How does it feel, sleeping with two men who've already been in my bed?"

I almost laughed. I walked down the stairs until I was standing right in front of her, took a long drag, and exhaled the smoke directly into her face.

"You slept with Thor?"

Lucy lifted her chin. Not a flicker of guilt.

"Of course I did. Don't tell me you couldn't smell me on him."

I looked down, let out a quiet breath of amusement, and took another slow pull from my cigarette. Then I just looked at her. Didn't say a word.

The silence stretched. After a while, the performance started to slip — the composure, the smug certainty. Her expression cracked at the edges, and she pushed harder to compensate.

"What's the matter? Did you think the whole world revolves around you?" She tilted her head. "Everything around you is easy pickings, Faye. All I have to do is crook my finger."

I reached out and touched her face — gently, almost tenderly — and frowned as I examined the bruising left from yesterday.

"Does it still hurt? I wasn't exactly gentle."

Lucy stepped back until the railing stopped her. Her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

I raised my hand fast. Lucy flinched, squeezed her eyes shut, and threw herself sideways.

The crack she was bracing for never came. What filled the hallway instead was my laughter.

I didn't bother hiding it. I looked at her — folded up against the railing like she'd been struck already — and laughed.

"Look at yourself. Pathetic."

"You—"

"Shh." I pressed my index finger to her lips and cut her off. "Lucy. Do you know that certain contracts can leave marks on a beast-kin's body?"

Her eyes stayed on mine.

"The pattern on the back of Thor's neck isn't a tattoo. It's a mark I put there. And as long as that mark holds, it means he's only ever served me."

The anger in her face cycled through embarrassment and landed hard on fury. She slapped my hand away and lunged to shove me. I stepped aside without hurrying. She grabbed nothing but air and went down hard on the floor.

I tapped the ash off my cigarette and looked down at her.

"Thor isn't Lucian. He doesn't come that cheap, and he's not the type to be reeled in by someone like you."

The sound of shattering glass.

I turned.

Lucian was standing in the bedroom doorway. He was staring at me — that expression I knew too well, the one where his red eyes went wet and his brow pulled tight like something inside him was tearing. A water glass lay in pieces at his feet.

"Faye…" His voice shook around my name.

The ache hit me before I could stop it, sharp and unwelcome, right in the center of my chest. I looked away first.

When Lucian dropped his gaze, he noticed Lucy on the floor. Something crossed his face — reluctance, maybe — and then he sighed and went to help her up anyway.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Lucy nodded. That reasonable, gracious smile slid back into place like it had never left.

"I'm fine," she said. "But Lucian… I don't think there's room for either of us in this house anymore."

She moved to lean into him as she said it. Lucian reacted like he'd been burned — he let go and stepped back sharply, putting distance between them. Then he turned to me, eyes wide and urgent.

"What does she mean? Faye?"

"Exactly what I said." I kept my voice flat. "You and Thor sharing a roof is a problem that keeps becoming my problem. I'm not interested in coming home to this every day." I glanced at Lucy, then back at him. "This is my house. I don't want people I can't stand living in it. And I don't want things in my space that soil it." I held Lucian's gaze. "I've been more than patient. Pack your things and go with her. You have until two o'clock."

Lucian's face went pale. I knew that look too — the panic underneath it. He'd brought up Lucy before, more than once. Wanting to move her in, wanting to spend nights at her place. I'd shut it down every time. I'd told myself we would get there eventually — that one day he'd look at me the way he looked at her.

But I'd been lying to myself, and I was tired of it. If he loved her that much, she could have him.

I ground out the dead cigarette under my foot and turned to go.

Lucian caught my arm.

"Faye." He stepped around in front of me, hands gripping my shoulders, red eyes glassy and desperate, searching my face. "You're throwing me out? This is our home."

So he did know that.

Lucy stared at him — first confused, then visibly offended. She crossed to us and pried his hands off me.

"She doesn't value you," she said, disbelief sharpening her voice. "I'm the one who actually loves you, Lucian. Come with me."

Something in Lucian snapped.

He shook her off in a single hard motion and rounded on her, features drawn tight with a fury I hadn't seen on him in a long time.

"Enough. If you hadn't chased after me, Faye wouldn't despise me right now. She's telling you to get out — not me. Whatever happens, I belong to Faye. I'm not going anywhere."

Lucy went rigid. Her chest heaved. Then she laughed — a short, controlled sound — and turned to me instead.

"Fine. I'll leave." She stepped close, close enough that I could have counted her eyelashes, and looked straight into my eyes. "Enjoy it while it lasts. And Faye?" A slow smile. "I hope you like my gift."

There was something in those words I didn't like. I kept my face still.

"I'm looking forward to it."

She held my gaze a beat longer, then turned and walked.

Lucian stayed where he was. After a moment he moved to my side and took my hand — not asking, just taking it.

I let him.

"Stay if you want," I said. "But Lucy leaves today."

Lucian made no move to stop her. Lucy stormed toward the front door with her face flushed scarlet, and then, one hand on the door frame, she paused.

"Faye." She didn't turn around. "Your good days are numbered."

She looked back over her shoulder.

"Because Damon is coming back."