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It might really be Lucien’s psyche, because he had not thrown up the whole morning. Ronan was incredibly pleased.

He was not the only one, the Healers were also very pleased. They made sure to note down what Lucien had for breakfast, just in case those were the only things that his body was willing to accept for the time being.

“How are you feeling?” Ronan asked for the third time that morning.

Lucien shot him a glare instead.

“How many more times do you want to ask?”

“I am just making sure,” Ronan said. “You are not the type to tell when you feel uncomfortable.”

“I feel uncomfortable,” Lucien said with a flat tone.

Ronan immediately pulled the brake.

.....

“We are going back now,” he decided.

When he was about to make a U-turn, Lucien clawed into his wrist.

“I feel uncomfortable with your repeating questions! Quit it and drive already!”

“... Yes, Luna.”

Lucien shook his head in disbelief. Ronan was speechless.

Lucien might be sick, but his temper did not necessarily improve.

His mood did improve after a while, though.

It had been some time since they drove together anywhere for fun. Lucien inhaled a lungful of fresh air and smiled at his mate.

“Thank you for accompanying me today.”

Ronan took his hand and kissed the knuckles devotedly.

“Anytime, my love.”

As soon as the car pulled into the parking area, Mr. Boyd and Alistair Green hurried to greet them.

Both of them were shocked to see Lucien’s appearance, but they kept their mouth shut. Ronan had emphasized to them that Lucien was coming to improve his mood. He should not be reminded of his current health. It was going to get better soon anyway.

“Champagne, Sirs?” A waiter offered when the four of them arrived at the foyer.

“One glass of water, please,” Alistair quickly said while he passed Ronan a glass of champagne.

Ronan pressed a kiss on Lucien’s cheek.

“Why don’t we go over there to take a look?”

The two men led Lucien and Ronan to the revamped corner of the art gallery, where the three selected artworks stood proudly for display. This time, the theme was “Spring Banquet”. All of them were sculptures. There was one that was particularly eye-catching. It was a three-dimensional painting of a spring banquet with every object sculpted out of woods. There were children playing tag in the yard, men who were sitting together while enjoying their drinks, and also women who were getting the outdoor dining tables ready. The details were amazing. The creator had even sculpted butterflies and birds. They hung from thin but strong fishing rods.

Because they were very light, they swayed here and there when a gust of wind blew.

Very enchanting to the eyes.

Even Ronan who knew nothing about art had to praise it.

“Amazing,” he said. “This one is very talented.”

Lucien smiled in agreement.

“This is a collaborative work of a group of young artists,” Alistair told them.

“Did the creators come?” Lucien asked.

“Yes, but they are too shy to come forward. Contact numbers are provided for those who request them. Is Mr. Clearwater interested?”

Lucien shook his head.

He did not know what would happen in the future. Best not to disrupt these young people’s lives.

Just then, the little color on Lucien’s face drained abruptly. He pressed a hand against his lips and mumbled, “Excuse me.”

Wordlessly, Ronan took Lucien into the building.

Lucien’s private studio was on the fourth floor, only accessible to those who had access cards.

As soon as they got there, they went into the bathroom.

Lucien only had a glass of water, and his body was unable to tolerate it at all.

He threw it all up. The only saving grace was that he was able to retain his breakfast for the first time since days.

Lucien’s back moved up and down as he bent over the sink counter with his eyes half-shut. Breathing haggardly, he glowered at his reflection in the mirror.

Ronan grabbed a paper towel and dabbed it at the sides of Lucien’s mouth.

“Are you alright, Lulu?”

“Mmm. Sorry for the buzz kill.”

Ronan shook his head.

“You know that I am art-blind. I am here for you, not for the pretty sculptures.”

Lucien chuckled.

“Don’t let the gallery visitors hear you. Your company funded this art gallery after all.”

Ronan did not think that the situation was funny at all.

“Should we go back?”

Lucien shook his head.

“I thought we were on a date.”

“You are not feeling well,” Ronan pointed out.

“I haven’t been feeling well for weeks, Ronan Silverback.”

Ronan curled his fingers into fists. He knew that. Of course he did.

Lucien pressed a wet paper towel against his face.

“I am starving. Can we go and eat lunch somewhere?”

The knot in Ronan’s heart loosened slightly.

Eating was a good thing. Lucien needed to eat more. Ronan exhaled and smiled.

“Alright. Let’s go out.”

“Mmm.”

Ronan walked out of the bathroom.

Lucien followed behind him, but after only three steps his sight turned blurry. A wave of dizziness engulfed him. His body felt heavy. So heavy.

Lucien leaned against the nearest wall and slowly slid down.

Something warm ran down his nose.

Lucien swiped below his nose and held his palm before his eyes.

Blood.

There was blood on his fingers. Cherry-red blood, shining beautifully under the bright bathroom lighting.

The blood kept flowing.

More and more.

Until Lucien lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

“Lucien?”

Ronan furrowed his brows when he realized that Lucien was not behind him.

A loud thumping sound was heard coming from inside the bathroom, as loud as the sound of Ronan’s own heartbeat when he rushed inside.

Lucien lay on the floor motionlessly. A small pool of blood formed under him, feeding from the trail of blood that slowly dripped down his nose.