By early evening, Ronan had excused himself, saying he'd received an urgent summon from their grandmother.
Lucien returned to his room with tensed shoulders. He dropped onto the recliner, letting out a heavy sigh as his head fell back against the cushion. For most of the day, his rut had remained manageable.
But now, as the golden hue of dusk seeped into the room, that fragile control began to unravel.
A sudden heat passed through his veins, making his skin prickle. His breath caught in his throat, and the familiar ache spread through his chest and lower abdomen.
"Fuck," Lucien hissed under his breath, clenching his fists. "Why is this happening again?"
A low growl echoed in the back of his mind, his wolf was again snarling with frustration and restlessness.
'You should've convinced Leia to mate with us,' his wolf rumbled.
Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, his body tensing under the pull of his rut, and cursed the hollow ache that only one presence seemed to soothe.
