Hey, Soul Sister [Lucius/Narcissa]

Chapter Forty-Nine

Narcissa barely heard Bellatrix calling out to her as she hurtled down the hallway toward the fireplaces the Malfoys had connected to the Floo network. Would he have used the drawing room or the study? Her heart was pounding so rapidly and so forcefully against her ribs that she felt she might vomit, and she couldn't stop the trembling of her hands.

He was actually going to do it.

"I will handle your father," he'd said.

Why had she doubted even for a moment, that he was absolutely serious?

She'd known in theory that Lucius would do anything for her, but she hadn't allowed herself to think through to what that could actually mean, given the injuries that still pained her with every rapid step as the muscles of her stomach pulled and twisted and rebelled against their healing. She'd been advised to lie still or, at the very most, to keep herself confined to the bedroom until she was well enough to handle the stairs—which moments earlier, she'd taken two at a time—and to call on the elf for anything she might need. In theory, Narcissa understood that all of this was for the best, given her weakened state, but she couldn't in good conscience stay put and do nothing while this was happening.

She couldn't accept that Lucius was going to kill her father.

Bellatrix grabbed her arm and spun her around hard, leaving Narcissa momentarily breathless.

"Cissy, if you don't tell me what is going on right this moment, I swear I will—"

"Do your worst," Narcissa snarled, certain her eyes were flashing dangerously. "I'm sure I can take it." She clenched her jaw and dared her sister to contradict her with the sharp set of her lips.

Slowly, looking wounded, Bellatrix retracted her arm.

Narcissa's stomach twisted with guilt. Even now, when larger things were at stake than either of them, the sight of her sister's pain was sickening.

"I promise I will explain as soon as I can," she muttered.

She turned away and resumed her course, and it wasn't the roar of flames that alerted her to his presence but the figure bent over the desk in Abraxas's study, his back to her.

His breath was unsteady, his shoulders quaking every few seconds, and he was clearly struggling.

Oh gods. He's... done it.

"Lucius," Narcissa breathed. She gripped the doorframe hard, afraid she might fall without its support.

Tension shot through him, and his hands tightened on the desk.

He said nothing.

Bellatrix's footsteps grew louder until Narcissa heard them stop directly behind her.

"The hell's going on?" Bellatrix demanded.

Narcissa didn't face her. "We need to speak alone, please," she muttered. She could barely force the words past the lump rising in her throat, and she glanced around the study for the nearest bin, as she felt the need to be ill resurfacing rapidly.

"Cissy..." Bellatrix's voice was much quieter, this time, and Narcissa turned to see her sister's drawn brows and concerned eyes.

"I'll tell you soon," said Narcissa with a small nod.

After a moment of silence, Bellatrix huffed and strode down the corridor toward the front doors.

When Narcissa was certain her sister was gone, she turned her head toward her fiancé once more, her fingers clenching on the doorframe until her knuckles went white.