Secrets in the Air, Shadows in the Heart

  Lucian's POV:

  As I walked toward the training ground, a sharp sense of urgency coursed through me. The intoxicating scent I had been following was growing stronger, pulling me in with an unfamiliar, maddening allure. My pace quickened, driven by the desperation to find its source. The sweet, wild fragrance made my chest tighten, sharp and raw, like a flame stoking something dormant inside me.

  I didn't want this.

  I didn't want to want this.

  Zane's voice echoed in my mind from earlier, light and teasing.

  "Maybe you're finally losing it. What if she's your mate?" he had said, smirking like it was some kind of joke.

  I had only glared at him, brushing it off with a scoff. A mate? The very word was a curse to me. Weakness. Vulnerability. A liability that could be exploited. I had vowed long ago never to let fate chain me to someone—never to risk caring that deeply again. Not after my sister.

  But now... this scent was making me crazy.

  The rational part of my mind knew it couldn't be. I was too strong for fate's games, too ruthless to be bound by such a bond. And yet, every time that scent drifted near, it gripped me—fierce, undeniable, primal. My instincts roared to find her, claim her. I hated it.

  Just as I was closing in, a sudden swirl of air slammed into me with such force that it made me, Zane and Ryker stagger. The gust tore through the clearing—wild, untamed—before vanishing just as swiftly, leaving behind only a faint whisper of its power.

  "Shit!" Zane barked, bracing himself as the wind shoved him back a step. His eyes narrowed, scanning the forest "What the hell was that?"

  Ryker cursed under his breath, his stance firming as he glared into the distance. "That wasn’t just a stray breeze," he muttered darkly. "Someone did that on purpose."

  I stilled.

  The scent was gone.

  Completely.

  A flash of rage tightened my chest. My hands curled into fists as I stepped onto the training ground, inhaling deeply, willing any lingering trace of that addictive fragrance to remain. But it was no use. The sweet, alluring scent that had been clouding my thoughts had utterly disappeared.

  Who the fuck created that swirl?

  My gaze swept over the others, sharp and merciless. Only three people were capable of summoning a gust that powerful—Esme, Calen, and Aria. My eyes flicked to each of them in turn, assessing, searching for a tell.

  Esme stood tall, her stance measured, her face impassive. No flicker of guilt. No shift in her breathing. Calen, as usual, wore that infuriating smirk, oblivious to my fury. He was too relaxed. Unconcerned.

  And then, my gaze landed on her.

  Aria.

  She stood slightly apart from the others, her shoulders taut with a tension she was trying too hard to mask. Her face was pale—too pale. And there, in her eyes, I saw it. For the briefest of moments, before she slammed her walls back into place, I caught the flicker of guilt.

  She was the only one who looked rattled.

  My eyes narrowed. She shifted slightly, feigning indifference, but it was too quick—too forced. She wouldn't meet my eyes directly, and when she did, there was a fleeting hesitation, barely perceptible. But I caught it. What the hell are you hiding, Aria?

  The words lashed out of me before I could stop them, sharp and cutting.

  "Who created that wind?"

  The entire group stiffened, the tension palpable. I didn't miss the slight twitch in Aria's fingers or the way her shoulders locked ever so slightly. My eyes remained on her, unmoving.

  She went still. Too still. Her chest barely moved with her measured breaths, as if she were holding them steady by force. My stare bore into her, unyielding, daring her to lie.

  Before she could open her mouth, Nico's voice rang out—carefree, light, and utterly oblivious.

  "That was Aria," he said with a casual grin. "I think she got too excited after winning the match and just—poof!—whipped up a storm."

  My gaze didn't leave her.

  Not even for a second.

  I didn't blink. Didn't move.

  She remained frozen beneath my scrutiny, but her lips curved into an easy, too-practiced smile—one that didn't touch her eyes. She was playing along with Nico's lightheartedness, blending in flawlessly. To anyone else, she appeared calm, maybe a little bashful.

  But not to me.

  My jaw clenched, the muscles ticking. My fingers twitched at my sides, fighting the urge to reach out, to tear through the fragile mask she was wearing. Why did you hide it, Aria?

  For a moment, I wanted to push. To demand the truth. The urge to drag her away from the others and make her admit it burned in my chest. My dragons stirred just beneath my skin, demanding release.

  But then I inhaled.

  Slow. Controlled.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose, suppressing the wave of fury building inside me. My chest expanded, my muscles coiled, and then slowly, deliberately, I let the tension ease—just enough to make the others believe I was satisfied.

  I could feel their eyes on me, the confusion flickering between them. They didn't understand. To them, the whirlwind was nothing more than a burst of excitement. A playful mishap.

  But I knew better.

  My eyes snapped open—colder, sharper than before.

  My voice was steady, calm—too calm.

  "Did anyone else come here with you?"

  I let the words hang in the silence, my gaze slicing through the group but lingering on Aria.

  Kai glanced at her briefly before answering. His voice was firm, but there was the slightest hesitation. "No. It was just us," he said.

  Liar.

  He was quick. The answer came easily. My eyes narrowed slightly, but I said nothing. I let it hang.

  Calen cocked his head, his expression genuinely puzzled. "Did you think someone else was here?" he asked lightly, almost amused.

  I shook my head, the mask slipping back into place.

  "No," I lied smoothly.

  The tension in the group fractured as if it had never existed. My voice shifted, precise and controlled.

  "We're here to check on your preparations for the competition," I said evenly, my tone almost disinterested. "And to help you train if needed."

  Ryker smirked, folding his arms over his chest. His eyes flicked toward Lila. "And to make sure certain people don't end up injured before the game even starts."

  Lila rolled her eyes, playful. "Oh, please. I can handle myself just fine."

  Zane chuckled, his gaze sliding toward Sofia. "That's what worries us."

  The group laughed, the atmosphere easing. They were already moving on, slipping back into casual banter. But I wasn't.

  My eyes returned to Aria.

  She laughed along with the others, her mask flawless. She was good. Too good. But I wasn't fooled.

  I could still feel the faint echo of the scent that had vanished with the wind—the same scent that had been driving me to the edge of madness.

  And no matter how carefully she smiled or how effortlessly she blended in, I knew one thing for certain.

  She was the reason I had lost the scent.

  And I wasn't going to forget.

  As everyone settled into their usual spots on the ground, the chatter and banter quickly picked up, a casual rhythm to the way they teased each other. Laughter echoed in the air, the familiar sound of comfort and camaraderie. I sat beside Aria, catching myself noticing how, whenever I was near her, something stirred inside me—an effect, something I couldn't quite place. It was subtle, almost invisible, but it was there. Amusement flickered in me as I tried to make sense of it.

  Then, without warning, Aria stood up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she made her way toward the bag of snacks. I wasn’t sure why, but I found myself reaching out, my fingers brushing against her wrist before I caught her hand.

  I watched her carefully as she schooled her face into neutrality, her movements precise, but I could feel the shift in the air. The tension was subtle—an undercurrent—but it was there, pulsing between us. I could hear the faintest thrum of her pulse, faster now, betraying her calm exterior. "What happened?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but there was something in her voice that I couldn’t ignore. An edge.

  I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, my hand reached into the bag beside me, the faint rustle of wrappers breaking the stillness. I pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich and a couple of granola bars. The motion felt oddly… foreign, like I was out of place doing something so normal. I pressed them into her hands before she could say anything. The briefest contact—the warm, steady feeling of her skin against mine—sent a strange pulse through me, but I pulled away before I could even register it.

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  "Eat this instead," I said, my voice even, but there was a quiet insistence there, something that made it clear I wasn’t asking. "I brought it for you."

  She hesitated. Just a moment, but I saw it—the way her eyes flicked from the food to me, as if unsure whether she should take it. The weight of the sandwich in her hands seemed strange, and I could sense how unfamiliar the gesture was to her.

  She lifted her gaze back to me, her eyes searching, but I kept my expression neutral, unreadable, unwilling to let her see the storm that was starting to build inside me.

  "Oh," she said, her voice small. "Thanks."

  I leaned back, keeping my arms loosely resting on my knees, trying to settle myself. My eyes remained on her, watching the way she held the food, as if it didn’t belong there, as if it wasn’t hers. "You should eat properly. Not just chips and cookies."

  From across the way, Nico let out a low whistle, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Wow, look at that. Lucian actually packs snacks for someone now? That’s next-level dedication."

  I didn’t even glance at him. I didn’t need to. My focus was still on Aria, and that damn sandwich. The very idea of this moment felt wrong—disruptive to everything I knew.

  "Mind your own snacks, Nico," I said, my voice as cold as I could make it.

  Nico muttered something under his breath, but I wasn’t paying attention. Dante chuckled, elbowing Nico in the ribs. "Well, this just got interesting."

  I felt the banter swirling around me, but I couldn’t engage. Not with the noise. Not with the way Aria’s presence had settled into the space beside me. I could feel her shifting slightly, the quiet hum of her energy stirring in the air. I couldn’t ignore it, and it was starting to bother me more than it should.

  And then, without warning, she nudged the sandwich toward me.

  "You should eat too," she murmured, her voice softer than before. "You need energy—you’re in that competition too, remember?"

  Her words hit me like a splash of cold water. I hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought she might do something like this—it was the way she said it, with no agenda, no hint of judgment. Just quiet concern. It made the edges of my control slip.

  I glanced at the sandwich in her hand, and then back to her. Her gaze was steady, but there was something more in her eyes now. A softness that unsettled me. She wasn’t just offering me food. She was offering care, something I’d long since stopped expecting from anyone.

  I should have brushed it off. Should have laughed it off, maybe. I didn’t want her to see how her simple act—something so normal, so human—was throwing me off balance. But I couldn’t stop myself. My fingers moved toward the sandwich, slow, deliberate, like I was unsure whether to accept it or not. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been offered something so simple—so… kind.

  As my hand wrapped around the sandwich, I felt something stir inside me. Not annoyance, not disdain—something else. Something warm, unfamiliar. For a split second, I didn’t know what to do with it. My gaze flickered back to her, but she was already looking away, her attention back on the others.

  I took the sandwich, biting into it without thinking. The taste was grounding, but it didn’t quell the restlessness inside me.

  Then, the conversation shifted from competition to the upcoming royal gathering. Ryker's voice cut through the heavy silence.

  “Tomorrow night, there’s a gathering. Every royal, every official who arrives will be there.”

  I barely registered his words. My thoughts were still on Aria—on the way her presence affected me more than I wanted it to. But then Aria spoke, and my attention snapped to her in an instant.

  “Do only the kings and queens attend these royal gatherings, or do their children—the princes—come too?”

  Her words hit me like a slap, a sudden surge of heat rising in my chest. Why did she care about other kingdoms’ princes? It didn’t sit right with me. There was a sharp edge to her question, something I couldn’t quite decipher. I narrowed my eyes, studying her, trying to figure out why her sudden interest in those princes was making my blood boil. Was she that eager to know about them?

  I felt a wave of irritation surge through me, and I pushed it down with an effort.

  Ryker’s voice sliced through the tension, oblivious to the shift in the air. “Yes, all princes from the kingdoms will be attending. The Earth Kingdom’s prince is already here. The two princes of the Air Kingdom will arrive tomorrow.” He paused, his voice lowering slightly, as if savoring the drama. “But the princes of the Aquara Kingdom... that’s uncertain.”

  I caught a glimpse of Aria’s face, and my stomach twisted. She had changed—her expression, her body language, everything. Something about her seemed different now, more... concerned. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I felt like she was thinking about something important. Something that had to do with the Aquara Kingdom.

  “Why? Why wouldn’t they come?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost too soft. It felt like she was trying to hide something, like she knew more than she was letting on.

  I narrowed my eyes at her, my mind racing. Why was she so interested in the princes of Aquara? Why did her voice tremble with that strange urgency when she asked? There was something off about it.

  Zane, thankfully, stepped in to break the growing tension, his smooth voice laced with an almost casual indifference. “The princes of Aquara rarely attend these kinds of events,” he said. “And their princess—the only princess across all the kingdoms—has never attended a single one. No one’s ever seen her outside of the Aquara Kingdom.”

  I barely processed his words at first. My thoughts were still tangled around Aria—her question, her expression, the way she seemed to be hanging on every word about Aquara. But then Zane’s words sank in, and a chill ran through me.

  In every kingdom, there were only princes. But Aquara? It was the only kingdom with a princess—a mystery no one had ever seen. And king, Thalor, never brought her to any of these royal events. It was odd. In every other royal family, the parents pushed their sons to socialize, to meet others, to maintain connections. But Thalor? He kept his daughter locked away in Aquara. Maybe he was protective of her—after all, she was the only princess among all the princes. But still… it didn’t sit right. It was as if he was hiding her from the world.

  Even my father who was very close to King Thalor, had never seen her. Our family had never once met the elusive princess of Aquara. That only made it stranger. If Thalor didn’t even trust his closest allies to meet her, then what was he really protecting her from?

  And suddenly, the thought struck me. Aria had been asking about Aquara’s princes and their princess—why? Was there something she wasn’t telling us?

  Before I could dwell on it too long, Ryker’s voice broke through again, sharp and teasing.

  “Aria, Why the sudden interest in the Aquara princes?” he asked, his tone light, but his eyes were flicking between Aria and me, like he sensed something was off too.

  Aria forced a smile, but it was tight, unnatural. “Just... curious,” she said, her voice lacking the easy confidence I was used to. There was something in her eyes—a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place.

  And that’s when it hit me. She was hiding things—so many things. I didn’t even know her true self. Not entirely. There was more to her than she let on, layers she kept buried beneath that calm, guarded exterior. And now, this sudden interest in the princes of Aquara? It only made it worse.

  The more I thought about it, the more my blood began to boil. Why was she so curious about them? Why did her voice tighten when she asked about their absence? There was something she wasn’t telling—something related to the Aquara princes. And it was driving me mad.

  I wanted to demand answers, to shake the truth out of her, but I held myself back. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to know how much her secrecy was affecting me. But I couldn’t stop the fury building inside me.

  Something was wrong. And I needed to find out what it was.

  Later that night, after returning from our secret place and sharing some useful insights about the competition with them, I sat with Zane and Ryker in my room, going over the final details for tomorrow’s training. The air was calm, but my mind was anything but.

  "The key is speed and focus," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "They'll need to sense the ball's shift before it fully changes form. If they react too late, they'll lose their chance.

  Zane nodded, running a hand through his hair. "We'll have to push them harder in the morning. They need to stop relying on sight alone. If they can't feel the change, they won't stand a chance."

  Ryker leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think Aria will be able to catch on? She's fast, but her reflexes—"

  "She'll get it," I cut in sharply, my tone leaving no room for argument. I knew she would. She had to. They all had to.

  Once we finalized the plans, the conversation drifted, and the room fell into a familiar silence. The space was quiet, save for the faint creak of wood as Ryker shifted lazily in his chair. The low hum of the night outside seeped through the slightly open window, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiling in my chest.

  "King Drakos, and Queen Amariel, are arriving in the morning," Zane reminded me, his tone casual but firm. "You'll have your hands full with royal duties tomorrow."

  Ryker let out a low chuckle, propping his feet up on the edge of the table. "Yeah. Being a prince and all, you'll probably be dragged into all that diplomatic crap."

  I exhaled sharply through my nose, leaning back against my chair with a bored expression. "Not so much," I muttered flatly. "I'm not interested in all that royal nonsense. It's just people faking loyalty for their own gain."

  Zane's brow lifted slightly. "You're seriously not even going to greet your parents?"

  I shrugged, forcing my tone to remain indifferent. "I'll see them tomorrow at the gathering—along with the other royal families."

  But as the words left my mouth, a faint bitterness tugged at the edges of my thoughts. See them. Like strangers sharing a table.

  I kept my face neutral, but inside, my chest tightened. They'll look at me with the same distant, guarded expressions. My father... he hasn't truly looked at me since that day.

  The memory slashed through my mind with cruel precision—the way his eyes, once filled with warmth and pride, turned cold and empty after my sister's death. After she was gone, he stopped seeing his son. I became nothing more than the heir—the one meant to carry on his legacy.

  And my mother... Her eyes were never the same. Grief hollowed her out, made her distant. She still cares—I know she does—but it's different. Like she's afraid to get too close.

  I stared at the wall, my jaw tightening slightly. Maybe they both blame me. Maybe they should.

  Because the truth was undeniable. If she hadn't tried to save me, she would still be alive. The realization was a blade I had carried for years—buried deep but never dulled.

  I masked the tension with a casual stretch, leaning further back in my chair. Letting out a short, dismissive breath, I turned my focus back to Zane and Ryker.

  "Tomorrow, we have more important things to deal with anyway," I said coolly, keeping my voice steady. "We need to show Aria and the others how to sense the ball's shifts. If they can't catch the changes, they'll be too slow to react during the competition."

  Zane smirked faintly, sensing my focus. "Always the practical one," he teased, though his eyes held a flicker of understanding.

  Ryker grinned and stretched his arms behind his head. "Yeah. Priorities first. Getting our asses handed to us by a shape-shifting ball is clearly more urgent than boring royal duties."

  I let out a low chuckle, grateful for their easy banter. The weight in my chest remained—a dull ache buried beneath layers of detachment—but for now, I shoved it deeper.

  Tomorrow would be filled with false smiles and hollow courtesies. But at least the morning would be ours—to fight, to train, and to prepare for whatever was coming.

  After Zane and Ryker left for their rooms, I stepped out onto the balcony of my dormitory. The night air was crisp, brushing against my skin with a faint chill. I rested my hands on the stone railing, letting my gaze sweep over the landscape.

  From here, the view stretched endlessly—a sea of forests, rolling hills, and the faint shimmer of moonlight reflecting off the distant lake. It was breathtaking, a sight reserved for only a few. The only luxury of being a prince that I truly enjoyed. While others reveled in wealth, power, and privilege, I cherished this—the solitude, the stillness.

  I exhaled slowly, tilting my head back. The sky was vast and clear, scattered with countless stars. For once, it didn't feel suffocating—it felt open, endless. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the cool night air. For a brief moment, peace settled over me.

  But it didn't last.

  That scent.

  It slipped into my mind like a whisper, sudden and sharp. The one I caught near our secret training spot. Faint, but unforgettable—both alluring and maddening. My dragons stirred inside me, restless and alert, their presence sharp beneath my skin.

  Whose scent was it?

  The memory of it clung to me like a shadow, refusing to let go. My jaw tightened slightly. Was it just the swirling wind, carrying traces of someone nearby? Or did Aria do that on purpose? She had been there—with the others. But something was off. The way she glanced away so quickly, the flicker of tension in her eyes... She was hiding something.

  She knew.

  The realization struck hard, making my blood heat with slow, simmering anger. She knew something about that scent—the one that lingered in the air and sank into my very bones—and she was keeping it from me.

  And then, a darker thought coiled around my mind, cold and sharp. What if that scent belonged to my mate?

  I gripped the balcony railing tightly, my knuckles going white. If she was nearby, if she had been right there, why didn't I see her? Why didn't she reveal herself? My dragons bristled, growing more agitated, clawing at the edge of my control.

  But then, another thought crept in, heavier and more confusing. What about Aria?

  My breath hitched slightly. Why does it always drive me mad when I see her close to someone else? The irrational surge of possessiveness, the sharp burn of jealousy—it made no sense. She's not my mate. I know she isn't. So why does it feel like my blood turns molten whenever another man stands too close to her?

  And then it struck me like a blow to the chest. What will I do the day my mate stands before me... with Aria there, too?

  Two different women. One destined to be mine by fate, the other already tangled so deeply with me that I could feel her presence under my skin. Would I be able to let her go?

  The thought unsettled me, the weight of it pressing heavily on my chest. My grip on the railing tightened until my fingers ached.

  I stared out at the night, my heart pounding against my ribs. The stars were still beautiful, but the peace they once offered had slipped away—lost beneath the chaos stirring inside me.