Daylight

Chapter 37

Lucien and Feyre stood at the foot of the stairs. Feyre had gone rigid as pure loathing danced in her eyes. Lucien had no idea who this stranger was, but Feyre certainly seemed to. And she didn't seem to be fond of him.

He was tall and fair, with dark brown hair, rounded ears, and striking blue eyes. He struck Lucien as the type of male—man—who could get whatever he wanted just from flashing a dazzling smile. Lucien couldn't exactly explain why, but he instantly disliked him.

"Jurian, what is he doing here?" Feyre demanded.

"He's our friend," Jurian explained, his voice clipped and tight. His smile forced. "He drops in for a visit from time to time."

The human male regarded Lucien carefully, paying particularly close attention to the golden eye and the scar that ran the length of his face.

"You must be Lucien," he sneered. "My queen talks about you quite... frequently."

"And you are?" Lucien asked coolly. Feyre tried to hide the nudge she gave him, but the stranger had seen.

"Wait," he said, vicious delight painted on his face. "Does he not know who I am? Oh, this is delicious."

Sudden realization hit Lucien like a tidal wave. This was Greysen. Elain's former betrothed. The human piece of filth who broke her heart. Lucien balled his hands into fists, flames licking his fingers. He had never hated anyone as much as he hated this prejudicial prick.

Feyre slowly but firmly pressed her hand against the small of his back, a gesture that went unseen by anyone else, but was enough to remind him to keep his rage in check.

"Tsk, tsk. Your elf friend doesn't look well, Jurian," Graysen chided.

"We're faeries," Feyre snapped. "Not elves."

"Same difference," Graysen said dismissively. "All of you pointy ears are abominations."

Knowing that Graysen was financially supporting Vassa until she could reclaim her throne was one thing; having to see him in the flesh was more than Lucien could tolerate.

Lucien wanted to kill him. And he would... if it wouldn't devastate Elain. Though he believed she didn't love him anymore, he still imagined that her mate killing her former fiancé would be far too much for her to handle.

He was trying to keep his breathing slow and steady, concealing any evidence of the rage that burned within him. It was so, so close to bubbling over. He had managed to keep his temper in check ever since he'd had his eye gouged out by Amarantha. It was an unfortunately strong reminder of the consequences of losing his temper and was usually enough to keep it in check, but he was on the verge of losing it now.

"So, you're her mate," Graysen quipped, turning his attention to Lucien once more. He looked him over with disgust as one of his eyebrows remained condescendingly arched. "Mates. Such a beastly term. But I suppose you are little better than animals. I've heard some of you can actually shift into animal form."

Lucien's russet eye burned with hatred. He knew their goal was for peace and tolerance of one another, but how could they possibly achieve that with filth like this mortal walking the earth? His hands smoldered like burning coals.

"See?" Graysen sneered, indicating the flames that smoldered over Lucien's balled fists. "They're not natural."

"Graysen, please," Vassa beseeched.

But he ignored her. He angled his head at Lucien, his lip curling up. "Tell me, has my erstwhile fiancée spread her slut legs for you yet?"

Lucien's rage erupted as white-hot flames shot out of his hands. He was going to burn this slimy piece of filth from the face of the earth. He could tolerate the jibes and insults made at his own expense, but he would incinerate this human swine before he would let him disrespect Elain. In the same moment that he hurled the flames at Graysen, Feyre sent a wave of seawater to douse them. Steam hissed where the water and flames had met in the middle of that stifling sitting room.