Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMGAVFB2SRWM0S752KZH93

Aurora's hand froze on the last deadbolt. Through the door's peephole, platinum blond hair caught the harsh fluorescent hallway light. Her throat went dry. Of course it would be him, standing there in one of his perfect suits like he hadn't disappeared for three months without a word. She considered pretending she wasn't home, but Lucien's heterochromatic gaze fixed directly on the peephole as if he could see straight through it. "I know you're there, ma chérie. We need to talk." Her fingers trembled as she slid back the final lock. The door creaked open, releasing a wave of curry-scented air from the restaurant below. Lucien stood in the hallway, one hand resting on his ivory cane, looking exactly as she remembered — devastating in charcoal gray, not a hair out of place. "Eva's not here," Aurora said, proud of how steady she kept her voice. "She's at a conference in Edinburgh." "I know." His accent wrapped around the words like silk. "I came to see you." Heat crawled up her neck. "Three months of silence and now you just show up?" "May I come in?" When she didn't immediately answer, he added, "Please, Rory." The use of her nickname — the one he'd always refused to use before, insisting on "Aurora" in that formal way of his — struck her like a physical blow. She stepped back, allowing him to enter. Ptolemy darted between Lucien's legs as he crossed the threshold, nearly tripping him. The cat wound around his ankles, purring loudly. "Traitor," Aurora muttered to the cat. She closed the door, throwing all three deadbolts with mechanical precision to avoid looking at Lucien. When she finally turned, he was standing in the center of Eva's cramped living room, looking impossibly out of place among the towering stacks of books and scattered research papers. "You're working deliveries for the Golden Empress now," he said. Not a question. "You've been checking up on me?" "I never stopped." His amber eye caught the light as he turned to face her fully. "I had to ensure you were safe." "Safe?" She laughed, the sound brittle. "That's rich, coming from the man who vanished the morning after—" She cut herself off, wrapping her arms around herself. Lucien's grip tightened on his cane. "After I kissed you. After you kissed me back." "After you said it was a mistake and left before I woke up." The words tasted like ash in her mouth. "I think you made your position quite clear." He took a step toward her. She retreated until her back hit the door, the middle deadbolt digging into her spine. "Is that what you think happened?" "What else am I supposed to think?" The hurt she'd been suppressing for months bubbled up. "You kissed me, told me it was a mistake, and disappeared. Then I find out from Silas that you'd left London entirely." "I left to protect you." Another step closer. She could smell his cologne now, something expensive and French that made her head spin. "My father's associates in Avaros learned about you. About what you mean to me. I had to handle it." "What I mean to you?" Her voice cracked. "Lucien, I don't know what I mean to you. You've never told me." He closed the remaining distance between them, planting his cane firmly beside her hip. His black eye and amber eye searched her face with an intensity that made her breath catch. "Then let me be clear now. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. But I couldn't bear the thought of them using you to get to me. Of you being hurt because of what I am." Aurora's hand drifted up to touch his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath the expensive fabric. "I'm not afraid of what you are." "You should be." His voice was rough. "I'm not good for you, Aurora. I'm half-demon, I work in London's supernatural underground, I—" She grabbed his silk tie and pulled him down to her level. "I decide what's good for me." Their lips met in a crash of desperation and need. His cane clattered to the floor as his hands found her waist, pulling her against him. She gasped into his mouth as he backed her more firmly against the door, one hand sliding into her hair. "I missed you," she whispered against his lips. "God, Lucien, I missed you so much." He pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing heavily. "I thought of you every day. Every hour." His thumb traced the crescent scar on her wrist. "I told myself staying away was the right thing to do. That you deserved better than a half-demon with dangerous connections." His voice dropped lower. "But I'm not strong enough to stay away anymore." "Then don't." She curled her fingers into his suit jacket. "Stay. We'll figure out the rest together." He kissed her again, slower this time, like he was memorizing every moment. When they finally broke apart, his usually perfect hair was mussed, his tie askew. Ptolemy wound between their legs, meowing for attention. "Your cat seems to approve," Lucien said with a slight smile. "He's Eva's cat. And he's a terrible judge of character." But she was smiling too, her head still spinning from his kisses. "You're really staying?" He brushed a strand of black hair from her face, his expression serious. "As long as you'll have me, ma chérie. Though I warn you, being with me won't be easy." "Nothing worth having ever is." She reached up to straighten his tie, letting her hands linger. "But first, you're going to tell me everything about these associates of your father's. No more protecting me by keeping me in the dark." His lips quirked. "As you wish. Though perhaps we could discuss it over dinner? I know a lovely little place in Marseille." "Marseille? That's a bit far for dinner." "Not if you know the right shortcuts between realms." He retrieved his cane, offering her his arm with old-world courtesy. "What do you say, Aurora? Care to break a few metaphysical barriers with me?" She took his arm, feeling the solid warmth of him against her side. "Lead the way, Lucien. Lead the way."