The silence that followed still clung to me even after Auren left.
It wasn’t the comfortable kind, but the suffocating sort that settled deep in your chest and refused to let go.
Auren had left without answering Lucian’s question, and Lucian... he hadn’t spoken for a full minute. The air was still, thick with the echo of everything unsaid.
Then, without warning, he moved.
He turned toward me and dropped to one knee, his movements slow, calculated, like everything that had just happened didn’t exist. His hand reached for mine, cool fingers wrapping gently around my wrist.
I blinked, too stunned to say anything.
And then he muttered under his breath, almost like he was scolding himself, "What kind of phoenix can’t even heal herself?" The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the NoveI-Fire.ɴet
His tone wasn’t mocking... It was somewhat weary, quiet, and threaded with a concern so raw it caught me off guard.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. "I... err... didn’t even know I was supposed to be able to," I whispered.
He looked up, his gaze steady on mine. "Phoenixes can do that, right?"
I blinked rapidly. ’How would I know?’
Back in my world or at least, according to myths... phoenixes could only heal after burning themselves to ashes and being reborn. But maybe here... things were different. After all, most phoenixes in this world worked in the medical field. It wouldn’t be strange if healing was part of what they naturally did.
"Should I try?" I frowned, staring hard at the faint mark left by the rogue’s claws. Honestly, how was I even supposed to do this?
Lucian suddenly burst out laughing, the sound low and unrestrained. I blinked at him in confusion, until his shoulders actually started shaking.
He grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. "You look like someone trying to... force out a very stubborn thought."
I narrowed my eyes. "You mean constipation, don’t you?"
He didn’t even deny it, but laughed harder.
I couldn’t help it. His laughter was like a release, warm and unexpected, cutting through the thick air that had weighed down the room moments ago.
For the first time since that whole ordeal began, the world around me felt still... peaceful, even. I just sat there, quietly watching him laugh... he really laughed for once. The lines of tension in his face eased, and for a fleeting second, he didn’t look like the cold, intimidating dragon everyone feared. He just looked... like humans?
A small smile crept onto my lips before I even realized it. "Well," I said softly, "at least you finally smiled."
He glanced at me, one eyebrow slightly raised, amusement still tugging at his expression.
"You know," I continued, resting my chin on my palm, "you should laugh more... because with all that frowning earlier, you might start aging faster than your current age."
Lucian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "A dragon, aging? Impossible."
"Hmm? Why? Dragon did not age? How old are you then?" I asked, curious. I never thought of asking before.
Lucian’s smile lingered, faint but real, as he leaned back slightly. "Old enough," he said simply, his tone calm, teasing but there was a shadow of truth behind it.
I tilted my head. "That’s not an answer."
He chuckled quietly, the sound low in his chest. "Dragons don’t age the same way phoenixes do. Time passes differently for us. We stop counting after a while."
"So you could be what, a hundred? Two?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lucian hummed, almost as if considering how much to tell me. "Closer to three."
I blinked. "Three... hundred?"
"Mm." His gaze softened slightly, distant. "When you’ve lived that long, you start realizing that time doesn’t make you wiser. It just gives you more memories to regret."
I couldn’t stop blinking, my mind still trying to process the number. Before I realized it, a question slipped out of my mouth. "Then... how old am I supposed to be?"
Lucian tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Are you seriously asking me that?"
When I didn’t answer, he chuckled quietly, the sound low and warm. "Phoenixes are trickier when it comes to age," he said, his tone thoughtful.
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
His eyes flicked toward me, something unreadable passing through them. "You don’t know?"
My stomach dropped. ’Crap.’
I forced a quick smile. "Well... I mean, I do. Maybe after being dead that one time, my memories kinda fumbled?" I laughed awkwardly, hoping it sounded more casual than it felt.
Lucian didn’t reply right away. His gaze lingered on me for a second too long, and for that brief, suffocating moment, it felt like he was peeling back every layer of lie I’d wrapped myself in.
Finally, he exhaled slowly, stood up, and took a seat beside me. "Phoenixes don’t age like dragons do," he said quietly. "They live by cycles. When their body weakens, they’re reborn from their own flames."
"Oh..." I said, pretending to think. "So... like a reset button with extra fire?"
That earned a faint smile from him, though his eyes still glimmered with quiet suspicion. "Something like that," he murmured. "Though most phoenixes don’t forget what they are."
My breath hitched. "I—I was joking," I said quickly, forcing out a laugh that sounded far too nervous to pass as normal.
Lucian’s gaze lingered on me, calm yet unnervingly focused, as if he could see straight through every wall I’d built.
"So..." he began slowly, voice smooth but edged with quiet curiosity, "how old are you, then?"
For a moment, all I could hear was the faint hum of the air around us, the sound of my pulse roaring in my ears. His question wasn’t innocent. It was careful, probing, the kind that left no space to hide.
My brain scrambled for an answer, but everything I thought of sounded either stupid or suspicious. ’What was the average age of a phoenix again? A hundred? Two hundred? Or did they stop counting altogether?’ I had no idea.
Lucian’s expression didn’t waver... his eyes were patient but sharp, watching me like a puzzle he was trying to solve. The faintest smile ghosted at the corner of his lips, as if he already knew I was stalling.
Finally, I forced a nervous laugh, hoping it would sound natural. "Uh..." I blinked a few times, pretending to think deeply, even though panic was clawing up my throat. "Old enough..." I said at last, voice a bit low but steady, "to legally marry a dragon?"