The grand hall of Evermore Manor, usually a place buzzing with ancient energy, felt suffocatingly still. Lucien lounged on a chaise lounge, an antique piece he'd liberated from a dusty storage room, using it with an almost deliberate lack of reverence. The air was thick with unspoken tension. Tonight, Elias, his father and the head of the coven, had summoned them all. The purpose? To officially name his successor.
He swirled the crimson liquid in his goblet, the clinking of glass against glass the only sound interrupting the oppressive silence. He affected a bored expression, but beneath the practiced nonchalance, a knot of bitter resentment tightened in his gut.
Across the room, Caspian stood ramrod straight, a picture of virtuous composure. Sunlight, filtered through the stained-glass windows depicting scenes of ancient vampire lore, painted him in a saintly glow. He looked every inch the heir, the righteous leader, the darling son.
Lucien scoffed inwardly. Saint Caspian. It made him want to retch.
"Must you be so…obvious, Lucien?" Caspian's voice, a low murmur, cut through the silence.
Lucien raised an eyebrow, a predatory smile playing on his lips. "Obvious? Darling brother, I merely find the seating arrangements…uncomfortable. This chaise is far more accommodating than those barbaric stone benches." He gestured vaguely towards the rows of expectant vampires, their faces etched with anticipation.
"You know that's not what I meant." Caspian's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation momentarily disrupting his carefully constructed serenity. "This is important, Lucien. Try to show some respect."
"Respect?" Lucien echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Respect for what, Caspian? For this charade? For Father's blatant…preference?"
Caspian flinched, his gaze darting towards their father, who stood at the head of the table, radiating an almost palpable aura of power. "Don't," he hissed. "Don't start."
Lucien leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Why not, Caspian? Afraid the truth will shatter your perfect little world? Afraid people will see you're not so different from me?"
Caspian's eyes flashed. "I am nothing like you, Lucien."
A wave of pure, unadulterated anger surged through Lucien. He hated that tone, that sanctimonious pronouncement. He hated the way Caspian always positioned himself as the better man, the virtuous twin. He hated the way everyone lapped it up, blind to the darkness he knew lurked beneath Caspian's pristine surface.
Before he could retort, Elias cleared his throat. The sound reverberated through the hall, silencing all whispers and sidelong glances.
"My esteemed brethren," Elias began, his voice a rich baritone that commanded attention. "We are gathered here tonight to ensure the future of our coven. For centuries, Evermore has stood as a beacon, a testament to our resilience and our adherence to the ancient ways. As I approach the end of my…earthly reign, it is my duty to choose a successor, one who will guide us through the coming age."
Lucien rolled his eyes. Theatrics. Elias loved a good performance, just like his 'perfect' son over there.
Elias's gaze swept across the room, lingering for a beat on Lucien before settling on Caspian. "I have observed both my sons with great interest. Both possess the strength and intelligence required to lead. However," he paused, the silence stretching taut, "one has demonstrated a dedication to our traditions, a willingness to embrace the responsibilities that come with this sacred position. One has proven himself worthy."
Lucien felt a cold dread grip him. He knew what was coming, but the confirmation still stung.
"Therefore," Elias proclaimed, his voice resonating with authority, "I, Elias, hereby name Caspian as my successor and the future leader of the Evermore Coven."
A murmur of approval rippled through the hall. Caspian bowed his head, a picture of humility and grace. Lucien clenched his fists, his nails digging into the soft leather of the chaise.
He forced himself to meet Caspian's gaze. He saw not triumph, but…something else. A flicker of unease, perhaps even regret. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the carefully crafted mask of composure. Just like always.
The hall erupted in polite applause. Sera offered a curt nod, her eyes, as always, unreadable. Anya stood near the back, her expression a mixture of awe and something Lucien couldn't quite decipher. Kael, Caspian's ever-present shadow, stood beside him, a smug look on his face.
Suddenly, Lucien couldn't take it anymore. The suffocating atmosphere, the blatant favoritism, the sickening pretense.
He rose from the chaise, the scraping of its legs against the stone floor cutting through the applause. All eyes turned to him.
"Congratulations, brother," Lucien said, his voice dangerously smooth. "I trust you will lead us all to…greatness." He gave Caspian a sardonic smile, then turned to Elias. "Father. A word, if you please?"
Elias's eyes narrowed. "This is neither the time nor the place, Lucien."
"Oh, but I insist," Lucien said, his voice laced with steel. "It concerns the coven, after all. And our…chosen leader."
He didn't wait for Elias to respond. He turned and strode towards the doors, knowing his father would follow. He could feel Caspian's gaze burning into his back.
Outside the grand hall, in the dimly lit corridor, Lucien stopped, his back to his father.
"You could have at least pretended to consider me," he said, his voice low and tight with suppressed anger.
"Consider you?" Elias scoffed. "Lucien, you revel in your…reputation. You flaunt your disregard for our traditions. You think I would entrust the future of the coven to someone who treats it all as a game?"
"And Caspian doesn't treat it as a game?" Lucien sneered. "He's playing a game, Father. He's playing the part you want him to play. He's not the virtuous paragon you believe him to be."
"Enough!" Elias snapped, his eyes flashing with fury. "Do not speak of your brother that way."
"Why not? Because it's true?" Lucien challenged, turning to face his father. "He craves the things I indulge in. He's just too afraid to admit it. Too afraid to tarnish his precious reputation."
"You are consumed by jealousy, Lucien," Elias said, his voice cold. "Jealousy and resentment. It poisons you."
"And what of your prejudice?" Lucien retorted. "Your blind faith in Caspian? You see what you want to see, Father. You always have."
Elias stepped closer, his face inches from Lucien's. "I see a son who is responsible, loyal, and dedicated. And I see a son who is selfish, impulsive, and destructive."
"And you think you know us so well?" Lucien said, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You know nothing, Father. Absolutely nothing."
He turned and walked away, leaving Elias seething in the corridor. He needed to get out, to escape the stifling atmosphere of Evermore. He felt Caspian's gaze on him as he passed the grand hall, an unspoken question in his eyes.
Lucien ignored him. He didn't want to see the pity, the concern, or whatever other emotion Caspian was pretending to feel.
He strode out of the manor and into the darkness of the surrounding forest, the ancient trees offering a welcome embrace. He needed to lose himself, to drown out the anger and resentment that threatened to consume him. He needed to find something, anything, to silence the gnawing emptiness inside.
He knew he shouldn't care. He knew he should embrace his role as the outcast, the rebellious twin. But deep down, a part of him yearned for his father's approval, for the acceptance he knew he would never receive. And even deeper, buried beneath layers of anger and resentment, a confusing, dangerous emotion stirred whenever he looked at Caspian. An emotion he didn't understand, an emotion he desperately tried to suppress.
As he ran through the trees, the cold night air stinging his skin, Lucien knew one thing for sure: the game had just begun. And he had no intention of playing by his father's rules.