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I follow.

The gothic overtones of his dark basement room are ominous.

Lucien turns on the lights. I know he doesn’t use them unless one of us comes down here.

Ignoring Kyrin’s question, he asks, “What do I owe the pleasure of this random visit, boys?” His dour tone slides through the room, and I sigh and sit in a chair near the cold fireplace, tossing one leg over the other.

“Go ahead, Kyrin,” I say, waving at him.

He gives me an annoyed look, then turns back toward Lucien. “We’re both moving into Ironwood. Well, moving back.”

Lucien narrows his dark gaze on both of us. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, last time Elias was here, he sensed the house’s unrest, and we all know what that means, so we’ll be moving back in. Tonight. In fact, I think Elias’s already started moving his things in.”

I pick at my finger. “Stanley’s moving my things at my behest. Same difference.”

Lucien glowers. “This is to do with Seraphine and what she’s been telling you, isn’t it? It was a few run-ins. Nothing serious.”

I lean forward in my chair as Kyrin screeches, “What run-ins?”

Lucien seems to read the room. “She didn’t tell you?”

“Seraphine holds her cards close to her chest, so do enlighten us, brother. What did you do to her?”

“Why does it have to be what I did?”

Pursing my lips, I give Lucien a knowing look.

He drops into his desk chair. The many screens surrounding his desk show every single angle of the estate. Seraphine moves around the kitchen as we speak, animatedly talking to Sophie, who’s cooking dinner.

I notice that many of the angles of the outer grounds, which Lucien typically focuses on, are missing. There are a lot more little boxes on his screens capturing every nook and cranny of the house, and I’ll bet my left fucking nut that it has to do with the very alluring Seraphine and her presence here.

I would say Kyrin knew better than to move her here, but I’ve been in her presence, and I understand the fascination.

He had to try.

“You’ve spoken to her?” Kyrin presses when Lucien doesn’t say anything incriminating.

“Yes,” he answers curtly.

“You’ve touched her?”

“Barely.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kyrin asks, sadness lingering in his tone.

“Why didn’t she tell us? That’s the better question,” I ask as I stand and walk closer, watching Seraphine laugh at something Sophie said.

Kyrin stares at the same scene I’m glaring at. “Why didn’t she?”

“All the more reason for us to move in,” I add, shrugging.

“I don’t need you two roaming the house on top of everything else…”

“You need us. Sophie leaves for the winter soon.” Kyrin’s argument is moot, and he knows it, but I know where he’s going with it.

“Stanley will remain; he always does.”