Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMH4G0S0K1P2VWDF02MWQ1

Aurora Carter stepped back from the thick, wooden door, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of brewed tea and aged paper that wafted from the threshold of Eva's flat. The three deadbolts clunked satisfyingly into place with a satisfying finality as she withdrew into the dimly lit hallway. She lingered for a moment, her hand on the cool brass doorknob, as if delaying the inevitable confrontation. The scar on her wrist, a pale crescent moonshape that peeked out from beneath her sleeve, pulsed faintly, a silent reminder of the pain she'd left behind. A shuffle of feet and a soft, annoyed grunt came from within. "Do you always have to barricade the place like you're expecting a home invasion? It's not like you've got royal jewels stashed in here." Rory released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You're alive." The words held both relief and accusation. "Last time I checked." The voice, deep and laced with a French accent, carried a subtle edge of humor. The door swung open, revealing Lucien Moreau, impeccably dressed as always in a tailored charcoal suit. His slicked-back platinum blond hair gleamed under the overhead light, and his eyes, one amber and the other black, fixed on her with a piercing intensity. Stepping out of the darkness, Rory stepped into the brightly lit foyer. Her straight, black hair, cut in a sleek, shoulder-length style, framed her face and brought attention to her bright blue eyes that, at the moment, held more wariness than warmth. "How did you know where to find me?" Lucien flashed a self-assured grin, the curve of his lips making her nerves jitter. Stepping aside, he extended a graceful arm, inviting her inside. "I have my methods. Information is my currency, remember? Shall we converse like civilized people this time, or must I pry the door from your grasping hands?" She ignored the jab and entered the flat, stepping over the threshold and into the warmth of her best friend's home. The place was unchanged: overstuffed bookshelves crammed with ancient tomes and piles of loose parchment, the scent of jasmine incense, and Ptolemy, Eva's tabby cat, who sunned himself lazily on the windowsill. As Lucien followed, closing the door gently behind him, Rory turned and said, "You shouldn't be here, Luc." "Ah, but I am, and there you are looking as beautiful as ever, despite the circumstances." Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He spread his hands, as if to prove he held nothing. "I come bearing news, mademoiselle." "News?" Rory crossed her arms, her eyes flicking around the cluttered flat, taking in the stacks of books and research that made walking a challenge. "What news could you possibly have that would make you hunt me down like a bloodhound?" "I hear the heir to the House of Santorini is in London." He leaned back against the door, the ivory handle of his cane clicking against the wood. "Word is he's looking for your services. Specifically." Rory felt the air drain from her lungs as the words hit her. The House of Santorini was one of the most powerful and ancient families in the supernatural world, a name that carried weight and fear in equal measure. "Nico... he's here?" "Oui. Apparently, the young master seeks your particular brand of expertise when it comes to certain magical artifacts." Lucien's eyes never left her face, searching for any hint of emotion. Rory's throat was dry as she fought to keep her composure. Nico Santorini was someone she'd rather forget, a figure from her past who, by all rights, should be furious with her. But here he was, asking for her help. She swallowed, tasting the bitterness of old wounds. "How... how do you know this?" With a graceful shrug, he straightened and folded his arms across his chest, the cane clicking against his sleeve. "Sources. It's my business to know these things. The question is, what are you going to do about it?" For a moment, Rory stood silent, her mind racing through the possibilities. The weight of his gaze bore into her, demanding a decision. Finally, she took a deep breath, the air heavy in her lungs. "I'll meet with him." Lucien's brows rose in surprise, as if he hadn't expected her to agree so readily. "I didn't think you'd be the one to run from a challenge, but you took your time with this." Anger sparked within her. "I've never run from a challenge." She stepped closer, the old wooden floorboards creaking under her feet. "But you don't know everything that happened between Nico and me. The last time we saw each other, things... ended badly." His eyes held hers, unblinking. "Why don't you fill me in, then?" Rory hesitated, torn between the urge to confide in him and the need to keep the pain of that memory locked away. She spoke, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within. "I found out about his true nature—that his family had been manipulating events for centuries. He nearly killed me when I tried to expose their schemes." "And yet here you are, considering his plea for help." She raised her chin defiantly. "Because I know he's not like the rest of his family. If he's here, seeking my help, it means he's in trouble. And I can't..." A surge of emotion caught her, her voice cracking. "I can't turn away from that." Lucien stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his eyes softening. "I understand, Aurora. You have a good heart. Perhaps too good for this world." He lifted a hand, his fingertips lightly brushing her cheek, sending a ripple of awareness through her. "But let us not forget the dangers you've faced before. Your safety must come first." Rory caught his hand, their fingers intertwining. "I know the risks," she whispered. "But sometimes, we have to take a chance, even on those who've hurt us. Especially when it involves people we once cared about." "I will not let anyone hurt you. Not again." The promise hung heavy in the air between them. As his thumb stroked her cheek, Aurora leaned into the touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she savored the warmth of his hand. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I appreciate your concern, Lucien. I really do." "Appreciate it," he murmured, leaning closer, his words brushing her lips, "by letting me go with you to meet this... Nico." For the briefest moment, Aurora entertained the thought of refusing, of keeping this new, delicate connection between them unburdened by the ghosts of her past. But Lucien was a man of endless resources and even greater determination. She dropped his hand, stepping back and breaking the spell that had formed between them. "No. I can handle this. You know I can." Lucien's eyes darkened, and he bowed his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment of her unspoken request. "As you wish. But know this — I will be nearby, should you require my assistance." She smiled at him, gratitude and affection mingling in her eyes. "Thank you. Somehow, I believe you." With a final glance around the flat, Aurora headed for the door, her steps sure and steady. "I'll be at Yu-Fei's if you need me. I start my delivery shift in an hour." As she opened the door, Lucien's deep voice stopped her. "Wait, Aurora." She turned, her eyes locking with his. He stood there, his own decision etched in the firm set of his jaw. "I owe you an apology." Rory raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You? Apologize? Never thought I'd see the day." He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "I apologized to your irritatingly persistent friend Silas for mistaking him for a pest. Now, it seems, it's your turn." Her cheeks warmed at the recollection. "For trying to get you in bed the night we first met and then storming off when you turned me down?" Lucien chuckled again, the sound rumbling through the room. "Oui, about that. We both said things we didn't mean. I'd like to think we've become better friends since then." A wave of affection washed over her, along with a hint of regret for the heated words spoken in anger. "You have a way of endearing yourself to people." She smiled, her eyes holding his. "Apology accepted. Friends, then?" He nodded, his expression softening. "Friends, Aurora. And now, if you'll pardon the intrusion, I have more news to attend to." Opening the door wider, she offered a friendly smile. "Of course. We'll talk later, Luc?" "Always." His grin flashed, a hint of mischief making her heart flutter. "Until then, take care of yourself. London can be a dangerous place for someone as desirable and resilient as you." His words, laced with double meaning, sent a shiver down her spine as she shut the door, her hand lingering on the cool brass knob, wondering what the next encounter with Nico Santorini might bring.