Chapter 120- Jasmine

Arabella Toussaint:

The palace kitchen was deserted when we entered. Only a few lights above the counters had been left on, and after the noise of dinner earlier, the silence felt strange... and the kitchen felt familiar. I once prepared bone broth here.

I headed straight toward one of the cabinets and took out a small saucepan. "Observe me. You might learn how to warm water," I said jokingly, placing it on the counter.

Lucien ignored the remark and leaned against the opposite counter while I filled it with water. "So? The investigation?" He inquired.

"Yeah," I turned on the stove, "I went through the reports, and I need to talk to Victor about it. There is still a lot left in those reports. And I still need to visit the club and check all the footage before coming to any conclusion. It’s better if I speak to the old employees," I explained.

It felt odd. He wanted to know about the investigation, when he had only asked about it just this morning over breakfast?

Was warm water just an excuse to talk to me?

Don’t be stupid, Arabella. He has better things to do.

Lucien remained quiet until I finished. "I’ll have Bradley arrange security for you."

"I don’t need security." I glanced at him over my shoulder. The last thing I wanted was a group of royal warriors following me around the club and frightening off anyone I tried to question.

"You’ll have it anyway." He folded his muscular arms over his naked chest. I forced my eyes back to his face before he caught me studying everything below it.

There was no point arguing when he used that tone, so I returned my attention to the stove. The water was already beginning to warm.

Lucien reached for a mug from the rack. A few minutes later, I poured the water into it and pushed it across the counter. "Aren’t you going to check that?" I nodded toward the cup.

"Why?" His eyes moved from me to the cup. "I trusted you with it."

I gave him a flat look. "You are trusting me with your drink?"

"Shouldn’t I?" His fingers closed around the mug.

Something about those words made me look up, meeting his eyes boldly, and leaning back against the counter. "You probably shouldn’t. Last time that didn’t work out very well for you."

The change in him was instant. The mug slipped from his fingers and shattered against the floor. Before I had time to understand what was going on, Lucien had crossed the space between us.

I sucked in a breath. For one terrifying second, an old memory flashed through my head... his hand around my neck... and the uncontrolled fury that used to burn in his eyes.

Instead, his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me hard against him. My palms landed against his smooth chest. His face was so close that I could feel his breath against mine, and whatever teasing confidence I’d had a moment ago disappeared.

"You still think that’s something you should joke about?" he whispered.

I swallowed. "I was only..."

"I know exactly what you were doing." His hold tightened slightly, keeping me against him when I instinctively tried to push him to put some distance between us.

"You did it once and disappeared for three years." His voice dropped even lower. "Don’t stand in front of me now and smile while you remind me of it."

Anger pushed through my shock. "I didn’t mean to..." I never got to finish. Lucien’s hand slid to the back of my neck, and the next second, his mouth crashed on my lips.

My breath caught. I stood frozen against him, one hand still pressed to his chest, my mind taking a second too long to understand what was happening.

Damn. The Lycan King was kissing me.

His lips were warm, softer than I remembered, with the faint taste of black coffee and something darker beneath it—something unmistakably him. His breath brushed over my mouth, warm and uneven, carrying the clean, familiar scent of mint and rain. It dragged the memories to the surface that I had spent three years trying to bury.

The realization sent a strange rush through my entire body. I should have pushed him away, but I didn’t.

His arm remained firm, holding me close as the kiss deepened. His mouth was opening against mine, his breath growing rougher between each slow movement of his lips.

My eyes slowly closed, and before I could talk myself out of it, I started kissing him back. That was a mistake, I know. Because the moment I responded, something changed between us.

A sharp, disbelieving voice cut through the silence. "What’s going on here?"

I jumped and tore myself away from Lucien. Jasmine stood in the doorway, disbelief written across her face. Her eyes flicked between us, then settled on me with a hurt so raw that a wave of guilt washed over me.

For a moment, none of us moved. Lucien’s hand fell from my waist. I opened my mouth, desperate to explain, yet every word was caught in my throat.

Jasmine looked away first, her expression crumpling before she forced it back into something guarded.

"Jasmine," I whispered.

She flinched at the sound of her name, then turned away without saying a word and hurried out of the kitchen.

I stared at the empty doorway for another second before my senses finally returned. "Jasmine, wait." I started after her, but Lucien’s voice stopped me before I reached the door.

"Let her go."

I stopped and slowly turned around. He hadn’t moved from where I’d left him. Broken pieces of the mug were scattered near his feet, but he didn’t seem to notice them.

"Let her go?" I repeated. "Are you serious?" His calmness was making it worse. I looked toward the corridor again, but Jasmine was already gone.

What the hell had I just done?

Three years ago, she had cried in front of me and told me Lucien had marked her. Yet I had stood there and kissed him back. Why did I forget that I was the other woman?

I turned to Lucien. "Why did you do that?"

His eyes stayed on me as he came closer. "And you kissed me back." His hand gently tucked a white hair strand behind my ear.

Heat rushed to my face. Why was he doing this to me? I stared at him, almost offended by how unbothered he seemed. "Jasmine is your fiancée, Your Highness."

For several seconds, he said nothing, then his brows drew together. "Arabella."

"No." I shook my head and stepped around the broken mug. "I’m not doing this." I headed for the door before he could stop me. Whatever explanation he had could wait until tomorrow.

Right now, I needed to get as far away from that kitchen and this man as possible.