The Blood Contract
Chapter 112: I can’t explain

Chapter 112: I can’t explain

"I— it’s complicated," Serena answered the question with a heavy sigh, her shoulders drooping just a little as if the weight of her words had settled on her bones. Her eyes drifted away from his, even though she could feel his gaze boring into her like a knife made of flame and ice. How was she supposed to explain her hesitation to him? How could she wrap her emotions into coherent words when her heart itself was tangled and confused?

Lucian’s eyes narrowed at her sharply, his jaw tightening. "What’s complicated about finishing what you started, huh?" he asked, his voice low but undeniably firm. There was something dangerous about his tone. It was not a threat, but a challenge, one that dared her to be honest.

He wanted to know her reason. He needed to know. But she only put effort into making sure she didn’t look at him, unable to meet those intense eyes anymore. She shook her head slowly, her lips parting just enough to let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

"I don’t know how to explain it," she murmured.

With that, Lucian gave up and let her chin go. His fingers, which had been gently tilting her face up to meet his, released her like she’d suddenly turned to mist. He stepped back from her, putting space between them like a barrier.

His expression changed, shifting into something unreadable, something Serena had never seen before on his face. Something... she didn’t know how to explain. That alone made her uneasy.

She’d grown used to his coldness, his arrogance, his unpredictable moods. But this look? This unfamiliar expression on his face made her heart flutter with a fear that had nothing to do with danger.

Then, in a move that somehow made her feel even more lost, Lucian extended the drink to her. "Take it," he said, his voice steady, but hollow.

She blinked at him, hesitating for a second before reaching out with trembling fingers to accept the glass from him. Her skin barely grazed his, but that brief contact sent a jolt through her. Still, she took the drink, holding it awkwardly in her hand like it was something foreign. She didn’t take a sip, not while he was still standing there. Not while his eyes lingered on her with that look she still couldn’t decipher.

As if reading her mind, or perhaps just reading her all too easily, Lucian turned around. His steps were unhurried but deliberate as he began to approach the door.

Serena panicked.

She didn’t understand why, but a sudden surge of panic bloomed inside her chest. It spread quickly, tightening her throat and twisting her stomach. This was supposed to be what she wanted. Wasn’t it? For him to leave her alone. For him to walk away and let her just take the drink and sleep off the mess of feelings that haunted her from yesterday.

Once he walked out that door, she would be free to forget, free to bury it all under the weight of silence and sleep. That was the plan. That was how it was supposed to be.

So why... why did it feel so wrong?

Why did watching him walk away feel like someone was clawing at her insides?

Her voice broke out before she could stop it.

"Wait."

Lucian paused instantly, just a few steps away from the door. He didn’t turn around, didn’t say a word. He just stood there, his back to her, his body still and alert like he was giving her the chance to say whatever it was she’d been holding back.

Serena’s heart hammered in her chest as she walked toward him. Each step felt like her legs weighed a hundred pounds. When she finally reached him, she moved to stand in front of him, backing the door. She wasn’t sure why she did that. Maybe she just didn’t want him leaving while her thoughts were still trapped in her head.

She swallowed, trying to push down the nerves clawing at her throat.

"It’s not like I want to chicken out," she started, her voice unsteady, fingers tightening slightly around the glass she was still holding. "I guess... I am acting a little cowardly," she admitted, pausing to gather herself again. Her voice wavered but didn’t break.

"But it’s not because I don’t want to finish what I started. There’s... a different reason for why I requested the drink."

She confessed that last part with her gaze lowered, the tension hanging between them growing thick and heavy.

Lucian said nothing.

He just stared at her, his darkened eyes scanning her face for something she couldn’t name. And when the silence dragged on for more than it should have, when he didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch, Serena’s discomfort bubbled up again, and she knew she had to keep talking.

He wasn’t going to help her. He wasn’t going to make this easier.

So she continued.

"The first reason is—" she paused, furrowing her brows, trying to string together the chaos in her head into something that made sense. "This stupid thing," she finally said, lifting her hand and holding it up between them.

The bracelet glinted under the dim light, delicate and harmless in appearance, but it felt like a shackle on her wrist.

"This stupid thing," she repeated, gesturing with her eyes toward the band, "makes me act like a possessed woman who has absolutely no control over herself."

Her words spilled out now, faster, tinged with emotion.

"I have never acted the way I did yesterday in my entire life. And I didn’t want to repeat it."

She let her hand fall slowly, her eyes following the movement until they landed on the floor again.

Lucian still didn’t say a word, but Serena noticed the subtle shift in his face. His expression, previously unreadable and closed off, had softened just slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

He was so used to sex, so used to it being a casual, expected part of every interaction, that it hadn’t even occurred to him she might have been waging some morality war with herself about what happened between them.

He hadn’t considered that she’d be carrying a weight he couldn’t see.

"What’s the second reason?" he finally asked, his voice low and calm.

Serena looked up at him briefly before quickly looking away again. Her throat tightened.

"This might sound stupid to you... not might, it will sound stupid to you," she admitted, her fingers tightening on the glass. "But I’ve always wanted my first time to be with someone I love. Or... at least like. A lot."

She confessed the words with her heart thudding in her chest. She felt exposed. Raw. Like she’d peeled off her skin and handed it to him.

Lucian let out a slow sigh, long and drawn out. It wasn’t mocking, wasn’t annoyed. Just... tired and heavy.

"And I don’t fall into any of those categories, right?" he asked. His tone was resigned, like he’d already given up before she could answer. Like he knew what she was going to say.

But Serena shook her head.

"That’s not it. And that is exactly what makes it complicated," she replied.

He stared at her, searching her face. "What do you mean?"

"I’m confused," Serena said honestly. "I don’t know what I feel for you. I can’t put a name to it. It used to be hate, but now..."

She trailed off, her chest rising and falling with her breath. Her voice dropped into a whisper.

"Now, I honestly don’t know what it is."

Lucian’s lips curved into a small smirk—not cruel, not mocking. Just... amused. Maybe even a little relieved.

"So you don’t hate me anymore?" he asked, his voice teasing but soft.

Serena shook her head.

"I don’t hate you anymore," she answered, her voice barely above a breath.

Lucian allowed himself a barely noticable smile. At least he was not the only one confused about his feelings.

Just like her, he had no name for what he felt for her. He didn’t hate her. Had never hated her, even though at the beginning, before he met her in person, he had felt like she had come to disrupt his life.

But ever since he laid eyes on her, he had been fighting to keep himself in check as her mere presence in his life turned everything upside down, both in a bad and a good way.

And worse than anything, he didn’t understand the growing longing he had for her. He wanted her so bad and was confused as to how to make her a permanent presence in his life.

Now what was he supposed to call that?

"What is the opposite of hate, Serena?" Lucian finally asked, completely masking all of his emotions.

Serena finally fixed her attention on him, a slight furrow between her brows. But she did not answer the question.

Lucian, however, continued speaking. "If you don’t hate me anymore, does that mean you are on the opposite side of hate, or you are still somewhere in between?"