The Blood Contract-Chapter 108: A familiar place

The car ride to the Draven mansion was mostly quiet, except for the few times when Lucian asked Adrian about how the security operatives managed to disperse the crowd and control the situation.

While Adrian explained, Serena leaned against the window, the cool glass grounding her as familiar scenery rolled past. The once-faint glow of dawn was now a full golden light spilling over the rooftops and treetops, painting the world in a softness that didn’t quite match the tension that lingered in her chest.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in what they were talking about about, it was just that she couldn’t believe once again how her life had spiralled into what it was now. She had always been running, hiding. Now she was married, but she still had no peace. Not even in the slightest.

She hadn’t spoken much since they left the alley where Adrian picked them up, and Lucian hadn’t pressed her to. His presence next to her was silent but steady, like a fortress that didn’t need to say anything to be felt. She couldn’t deny the fact that she felt a little safe with him now than she had been with anybody.

Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, clutching the can of iced tea Lucian had given her earlier. It was empty now, but she still held onto it like it was some kind of anchor.

As they turned into the long driveway, the tall wrought iron gates of the mansion swung open, revealing the expansive front lawn and the elegant stone exterior of the house. The sight brought a strange rush of emotion to Serena’s chest—relief, and the unexpected comfort of returning somewhere familiar. It felt like she was surfacing after being submerged in deep, murky water for hours.

The car hadn’t even come to a complete stop before the front door burst open.

Marlowe came rushing out in a flurry of dark silk and tangled curls. Her feet were bare against the marble steps, and her expression was a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming relief. "Oh thank God!" she cried, hurrying down without hesitation.

Before Serena could even reach for the car door handle, Marlowe yanked it open and pulled her out into the early morning light and straight into a tight embrace.

"God, you’re okay," she said again, holding her like she feared she might vanish. "Darrell said you were fine over the phone, but—God—I needed to see it. I needed to see you to be sure he was saying the truth."

Serena blinked, startled by the sheer intensity of the embrace. For a moment, she stood stiffly in Marlowe’s arms, but she eventually responded by wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist accepting the warmth of her embrace.

"I’m okay," Serena whispered, her voice muffled against Marlowe’s shoulder. "Thank you for caring so much about me."

Marlowe pulled back just enough to examine Serena’s face, her hands gently brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were misty with emotion, but her smile was wide and fierce. "You look tired. Did you get any sleep at all?"

Serena felt her heart skip a beat at that question, but she nodded her head on the outside. "I slept well." She responded as seriously as she could, so the woman wouldn’t detect anything unusual.

Lucian stepped out of the car behind them, his expression neutral, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Marlowe turned to him and offered a tight nod. "Thank you, Mr Draven. Thank you for bringing her back safely."

Lucian gave a curt nod in return.

"Come," Marlowe said briskly, wrapping an arm around Serena’s shoulder again. "Breakfast is ready and served. I don’t care if you already ate or not. You’re eating something warm, and you’re doing it now."

"That’s good then cos I’m hungry. I’ve only had iced tea." Serena confessed.

"Iced tea?" Marlowe questioned, shooting Serena a ’what the hell’ look. "Why would you take something so cold in the morning? You’re going to hurt your digestive system."

"Well that was what was available," Serena spoke in defense, chuckling at the look on Lucian’s face when he heard Marlowe’s comment about the iced tea.

"Good thing a proper meal is available now," Marlowe commented.

Inside the mansion, the scent of cinnamon, fresh coffee, and warm bread filled the air. They all went directly to the dining room, where the long table had already been set with gleaming porcelain, polished cutlery, and plates heaped with food—steaming mugs of tea and coffee, freshly baked bread, whipped butter, cheeses, soft-boiled eggs, and colorful bowls of fruit.

Serena’s stomach gave a surprising lurch at the sight.

Lucian, without a word, walked to the head of the table and took his usual seat. Serena sat beside Marlowe, still feeling a bit floaty, as if her mind hadn’t quite caught up with her body.

"So," Marlowe said cheerfully as she poured Serena a cup of coffee, "tell me about your night t the bunker."

Serena blinked. "Pardon?"

"I mean, Darrell already told me some things, but he didn’t give any juicy details though. Was it claustrophobic? Cold? Comfortable or creepy?"

Serena gave a vague smile. "It was quite comfortable."

"Quite, huh?" Marlowe asked, chewing on a piece of bread. "That means you had a comfortable place to sleep and it wasn’t too cold considering how it’s located underground," she noted, and Serena nodded her head.

"It has bedrooms, bathrooms, a kitchen and a living area, though it felt only slightly colder. Nothing too extreme though." Serena explained, not knowing what a woman was driving at but hoping she could lead her away.

Marlowe arched a brow. "So how come your eyes look so tired as if you stayed awake all night? You’re supposed to be taking care of your health, remember?"

A ghost of a smile flashed across Lucian’s features, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

He admired Marlowe. She was very observant, and he couldn’t deny the subtle joy he felt seeing how her questions were making Serena slightly nervous.

Serena nodded slowly. "Yeah, I remember. I’m just tired. But I’m fine. Believe me, Marlowe. I’m good."

Marlowe gave her a skeptical look but didn’t pry further. Instead, she reached across the table to push a plate of toast toward Serena. "Eat. You’ll feel better."

Serena took a piece and began to butter it, her hands working on autopilot.

"Honestly," Marlowe added, reaching for a mug, "I don’t know how you handled being underground like that. I’ve never even seen that place. Lucian keeps it locked tighter than his emotions."

Lucian’s brow twitched slightly at that comment, but he said nothing, choosing instead to stir his coffee with measured precision.

Serena stifled a smile.

Just then, the front door creaked open again, and a few seconds later, Darrell appeared at the dining hall. His sleeves were rolled up, and he looked like he hadn’t slept all night, though his eyes immediately lit up when he saw them.

"Am I too late?"

"Not at all," Marlowe called, waving him in. "Get over here."

Darrell stepped into the room, his gaze briefly meeting Serena’s. "Good morning, madam. Glad to see you both made it back."

"Relieved to see you made it back," Serena responded.

Lucian gave him a short nod. "Updates?"

Darrell took a seat beside Adrian, who had been quiet as a rock ever since they arrived at the dining room.

"The protests dispersed sometime after dawn. Carlo’s coordinating with the city guard to keep an extra set of eyes on all the heated spots. It’s quiet for now."

"Good," Lucian said. "Maintain the watch for the next forty-eight hours. Just in case."

"Already arranged."

Serena took a bite of her toast and found that the warmth and butter did, in fact, help ease some of the weight pressing on her. As conversation picked up again around her—jokes and light-hearted jabs passed between Marlowe and Darrell—she started to feel like she could breathe again.

Breakfast settled into a comforting rhythm. Darrell recounted the frantic calls from Adrian during the night, and Marlowe made exaggerated impressions of how she imagined Lucian looked pacing underground.

Lucian, for his part, remained mostly quiet, though he didn’t appear disinterested. He listened, occasionally gave one-word answers or a grunt, but never truly joined the banter.

He knew Marlowe was trying to make light of everything to get their minds off the panic, but he couldn’t get his mind off it. Another thing he couldn’t get his mind off was Serena. It felt like she was occupying more and more space in his head by the day.

He didn’t speak much, but every so often, his eyes would drift toward her. Not in the same charged way as before, but thoughtful. Studying.

She soon noticed his gaze. And though she tried not to, she felt her skin warm beneath his quiet scrutiny.

Marlowe noticed too. Her brow lifted slightly, but she said nothing, redirecting the conversation instead to something safer.

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