Lucas' POV
I must have slept for days. When I finally stirred, the world seemed to spin around me like a carousel gone mad. Colors swam before my eyes, sounds echoed faintly in my ears, and my body felt like a limp rag doll, barely tethered to the mattress. The sheets beneath me were soft, impossibly clean, and carried the faint scent of lavender—a luxury I hadn't indulged in for months. But even that couldn't ease the ache in my bones or quiet the storm of thoughts battering my skull.
Finn appeared at my bedside almost instantly, as though he'd been waiting for this moment. He sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders relaxed, his expression a mix of relief and curiosity. His cologne—sharp and musky—filled the air, grounding me slightly.
"Lucas, brother," he said, his voice warm but tinged with concern. "You're finally awake."
"How long have I slept?" I asked, my voice rough and gravelly, as though I'd been chewing sandpaper. I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to massage away the fog that clung stubbornly to my mind.
Finn chuckled softly. "Three days," he said. "I sent my physicians running some tests on you while you were out. Your calcium levels are low, and there's something off with your blood sugar. But other than that, you're in one piece."
I groaned, sitting up slowly and wincing at the protest of my muscles. "I could use a bath," I said, my gaze drifting to the window where sunlight streamed in, casting golden patterns across the floor. "And maybe a razor."
Finn's eyebrows shot up. "What do you need that for?" he asked, leaning closer, his tone playful but watchful.
"To shave," I replied simply, though my voice lacked conviction. Even the idea of shaving felt like an effort.
Finn grinned, that mischievous glint in his eye that always reminded me why he was such a formidable leader despite his reckless charm. "Sure," he said, standing and clapping his hands together. "I'll send in the best barber in the entire kingdom. He'll sort you out and have you looking like a million bucks in no time. You woke up just in time, brother. We're having a Full Moon Ball tonight. There'll be ladies and dogs - and everything in between. And by everything in between, I mean all the Alphas in the North Alliance will be there. They can't wait to see you."
I blinked at him, confusion replacing the fog in my mind. "North Alliance?"
Finn winked, his tone lightening as though he'd just made a clever joke. "It's a Gentlemen's Club," he said. "Sort of like a poker club. Old boys get together, talk about cars while measuring the size of their dicks. Nothing you need to worry about, brother."
I couldn't help but chuckle despite myself. Finn had a way of making even the most dire situations seem manageable - if not outright amusing. But as he left the room to arrange for the barber, I couldn't shake the gnawing sense that this "Full Moon Ball" was more than just a social event.
Even though I knew nothing about my half-brother, but Finn seemed to be a master at reading people - and manipulating them. Whatever was happening tonight, it wouldn't be simple.
By the time I emerged from my bath and was shaved to perfection by Finn's valet, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the estate. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. I stood before a full-length mirror, staring at the stranger who stared back at me. My face was leaner than I remembered, my eyes hollow and shadowed, but there was a flicker of determination in their depths - a spark that hadn't been extinguished despite everything I'd endured.
Finn waited outside my bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest, a sly grin playing on his lips. "You look amzing, brother," he said, nodding approvingly as I stepped into the hallway.
"I feel like I've been run over by a truck," I muttered, rubbing my jaw absently.
Finn laughed, clapping me on the shoulder with enough force to make me stagger slightly. "You'll get used to it," he said. "Come on. The party's already started without us."
The journey to the ballroom was short but surreal. The walls were lined with portraits of our ancestors, their stern faces watching over us like silent judges. Whoever built these walls must have a great taste in soft furnishings.
The air buzzed with the sound of laughter, music, and clinking glasses, creating an atmosphere of controlled chaos. As we approached the double doors leading into the ballroom, Finn paused, turning to me with a serious expression.
"This isn't just any party," he said quietly. "These people aren't here for fun- or at least, not entirely. They're here because they need something from us. And right now, they're wondering if you're still capable of leading them."
I opened my mouth to retort, but he cut me off with a raised hand.
"Don't get me wrong," he continued. "Some of them are decent folk. But most of them are rogues, slave traders, scumbags, gamblers, opportunists, people who operate in the gray areas of society. They're not exactly the kind of folks you'd invite to a family dinner, if you know what I mean. But they're all we've got in Mediland."