Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMC98B14GQ79G27ED99JYV

The door to Eva's flat swung open with a reluctant creak, and there stood Aurora Carter, her bright blue eyes wide with surprise. The sight of Lucien Moreau on the threshold, with his slicked-back platinum blond hair and heterochromatic eyes, one amber, one black, sent a jolt through her. It had been months since they'd parted on those complicated terms, their last conversation a tangled mess of attraction and hurt. "Lucien," Rory breathed out, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. She leaned against the doorframe, her shoulder-length black hair catching the dim light of the hallway. "I didn't expect to see you here." Lucien's gaze traveled over her, taking in the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist, a relic of a childhood accident. His expression was unreadable, a mask honed by years in the supernatural underworld of London. "I needed to speak with you, Rory," he said, his accent a soft melody that danced around the hard edges of his words. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. The flat was a chaotic sanctuary of knowledge, every surface cluttered with books, scrolls, and Eva's research notes. Ptolemy, the tabby cat, regarded Lucien with Sleepy disinterest from his perch atop a stack of ancient tomes. Lucien moved with an ease that belied his imposing height, his tailored charcoal suit fitting him like a second skin. He leaned on his ivory-handled cane, the hidden blade within a secret he carried close. The door clicked shut behind them, the sound echoing in the small space. "It's been a long time," Rory said, her cool-headedness wavering under the intensity of his gaze. She crossed her arms, a defensive gesture that did nothing to hide the tremor in her fingers. "Too long," Lucien admitted, his voice a low rumble. He watched her, the air between them thick with things left unsaid. "I've thought about you, wondered how you were managing in this city that's both yours and not." Rory scoffed, a weak attempt at nonchalance. "I manage just fine. London's been good to me." She omitted the nights she'd lain awake, memories of their time together haunting her thoughts. Lucien's eyes flickered to the scar on her wrist, a silent question hanging between them. His demonic heritage gave him an acute sensitivity to the echoes of pain and trauma. "And Evan?" he asked, the name tasting like ash on his tongue. "Gone," Rory said firmly, her chin lifted in a show of strength. "I'm done with that part of my life." A wave of relief washed over Lucien, though he was careful not to let it show. He had always seen the potential in Rory, her intelligence and quick thinking a beacon in the murky waters of the supernatural world. The thought of her with someone like Evan, who couldn't appreciate her light, had been a constant source of frustration. "I'm glad to hear it," he said sincerely. "You deserve better than what he could offer." Rory's eyes met his, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the clutter fading into the background. There was a pull between them, an undercurrent of attraction that neither could deny, no matter how complicated their history. "Why are you really here, Lucien?" Rory asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She needed to know what drove him to seek her out after all this time. Lucien took a step closer, his gaze holding hers. "I came to warn you," he said, his tone grave. "There are forces at play that could put you in danger. Your connection to me, to Eva... it makes you a target." Rory's heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline mingling with the tension that simmered beneath the surface of their conversation. "What kind of forces?" she asked, her mind already racing with possibilities. "The kind that don't take kindly to half-demons meddling in their affairs," Lucien replied, his hand instinctively tightening on the handle of his cane. "And the kind that would exploit a human with your unique talents." A shiver ran down Rory's spine, but she refused to let fear take hold. She had faced down her own demons, both literal and figurative, and she would not be cowed by threats unseen. "I can take care of myself," she said, her voice steady. "I don't doubt that," Lucien said with a small smile. "But even the strongest among us need allies. I want to be that for you, Rory. If you'll let me." The air between them was electric, charged with the weight of their shared history and the undeniable chemistry that crackled whenever they were together. Rory knew the risks of getting entangled with someone like Lucien, a man who walked the line between the human world and the supernatural with ease. But she also knew the value of having an ally with his resources and knowledge. "I'll consider it," she said finally, her eyes never leaving his. "But only if you're honest with me. No secrets, Lucien. Not this time." He nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "No secrets," he agreed, the promise hanging between them like a binding oath. They stood there, the silence comfortable despite the undercurrent of urgency that had brought Lucien to her door. Ptolemy leaped from his perch, winding his way around Lucien's legs in a silent show of approval. Rory let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tension. "I think Ptolemy has made his opinion known," she said, gesturing to the cat. Lucien glanced down, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "It seems I have at least one ally here," he mused, reaching down to scratch the tabby behind the ears. Rory rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth tugged upward in a smile. "Come on," she said, motioning toward the cluttered kitchen. "I'll make us some tea. We have a lot to discuss." As they moved through the flat, the barriers Rory had erected around her heart began to crumble. There was a connection between her and Lucien that refused to be ignored, a pull that was both exhilarating and terrifying. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, but for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel alone. And as Lucien sat across from her, his heterochromatic eyes never straying from her face, Rory realized that perhaps some reunions were worth the risk.