Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMNB8Y8D9NWP3FD15WMD3PM

The door to Eva’s flat creaked open before Aurora could even reach for the deadbolt, the sound sharp and discordant in the quiet of the evening. A gust of cold air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain-slicked pavement and something sharper—like ozone after a storm. Aurora froze, her fingers hovering over the lock, her pulse already thrumming in her throat. “You’re late,” a voice drawled from the threshold, smooth as aged whiskey. She exhaled, slow and controlled, but her breath hitched anyway. *Lucien.* Of course it was him. Because nothing in her life had ever been that simple. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe with that infuriating ease, his cane tapping rhythmically against the wooden floor. His platinum blond hair was slicked back, as always, and his tailored charcoal suit clung to him like a second skin. One amber eye, one black, locked onto hers with that same predatory intensity that had always made her stomach flip. The amber one—*his good one*, she’d learned—was the one that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “You’re early,” she countered, stepping back to let him in before she could chicken out. The flat smelled like old paper and Ptolemy’s musky fur, the tabby cat’s tail flicking in greeting as he slinked past her ankles. “Or maybe you just don’t keep time like the rest of us.” Lucien pushed off the doorframe with a laugh, low and rich, and stepped inside. The cane made a soft *thunk* against the floor as he turned, his gaze sweeping over the cluttered shelves, the half-finished research notes scattered across the table. “You’ve been busy.” Aurora crossed her arms, her fingers brushing the scar on her wrist—old, faded, but still a reminder of the night she’d almost lost everything. “You’re the one who’s been busy. Or so I’ve heard.” He quirked an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “And what have you heard?” “That you’ve been playing savior to every lost soul in London,” she said, keeping her voice light, but her pulse spiked anyway. “That you’ve been selling out the underworld left and right.” Lucien’s lips twitched. “And what have you been doing?” “Delivering takeout,” she shot back. “Nothing exciting.” “Nothing exciting?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he limped toward the kitchen, his cane clicking against the tiles. “You’ve been working for Yu-Fei Cheung, haven’t you? The woman who feeds half of East London.” Aurora bristled. “She pays well.” “And you like her,” he pressed, turning to lean against the counter, his cane propped beside him. “She’s not just a job to you.” Aurora opened her mouth, then closed it. She *did* like Yu-Fei. She liked the way the woman spoke in rapid-fire Mandarin and English, her hands moving with precision as she chopped garlic. She liked the way the restaurant smelled of ginger and soy, of something warm and alive. She liked that Yu-Fei saw her—not just as a delivery person, but as someone who mattered. But she didn’t say any of that. Instead, she crossed her arms tighter. “What do you want, Lucien?” His gaze flicked to her wrists, to the scar she always tried to hide beneath her sleeves. “You know why I’m here.” Aurora’s breath caught. *Of course she knew.* She’d known the moment he’d walked into the Golden Empress, his amber eye catching hers across the crowded restaurant. She’d known the moment he’d slid into the booth beside her, his cologne sharp and familiar, like rain and something darker. She’d known when he’d said her name, soft and dangerous, like a secret. She swallowed. “You’re here about the deal.” “Yes.” “And you’re here to finish it.” Lucien exhaled through his nose, his expression darkening. “I’m here because you’re the only one who can help me.” Aurora’s fingers twitched at her sides. “And why’s that?” “Because you’re the only one who knows how to get into the old archive,” he said, his voice low. “The one beneath the university. The one that’s been sealed for centuries.” Aurora’s stomach twisted. She knew that archive. She’d spent months researching it, digging through dusty ledgers and yellowed scrolls, all in the name of proving something—*anything*—about the night her father had disappeared. “You want me to help you break into it.” “Not break in,” Lucien corrected, his voice careful. “Unlock it.” Aurora’s breath hitched. She knew what was in there. She’d read the rumors, the half-truths, the things whispered in the shadows of London’s supernatural underworld. The archive held the secrets of the old bloodlines, the ones that had ruled the city before the modern world. The ones that had taken her father. And Lucien wanted to get in. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers, intense and unyielding. “Because I need to find something.” “And what’s that?” He hesitated, just for a second, before he said, “A way to save someone.” Aurora’s heart pounded. She knew that tone. She’d heard it before, in the voice of men who thought they knew what was best for her. She knew the way it made her skin prickle, the way it made her want to reach out and touch him, to see if he was real. But she didn’t reach out. Instead, she stepped forward, her boots scuffing against the wooden floor. “And what if I say no?” Lucien’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Then I’ll find someone else.” Aurora’s chest tightened. “You’re bluffing.” “Am I?” He pushed off the counter, his cane tapping against the floor as he moved toward her. “Aurora, you know I’m not.” She did know. She knew the way his amber eye darkened when he was lying, the way his voice dropped an octave when he was serious. She knew the way he could make her feel things she didn’t understand, things she didn’t want to feel. But she also knew the way he could hurt her. So she stepped back, putting distance between them. “I need time.” Lucien’s expression softened, just slightly. “You always did take too long to make up your mind.” Aurora rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “And you always did like to play the long game.” He chuckled, low and warm, and Aurora felt it like a brand against her skin. “Always.” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. But I’m not doing this for free.” Lucien’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course not.” “And I want answers,” she said, her voice firm. “About what you’re really looking for. About why you think I’m the one who can help you.” Lucien’s gaze darkened, his black eye locking onto hers. “You want to know why I’m here, Aurora?” She swallowed. “Yes.” He stepped closer, his cane tapping against the floor, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I remember the way you looked the night you left. Because I remember the way you tasted.” Aurora’s breath caught, her pulse roaring in her ears. She remembered, too. She remembered the way he’d kissed her, his hands rough against her skin, his voice a growl in her ear. She remembered the way he’d made her feel alive, like nothing else in the world mattered. But she also remembered the way he’d left. The way he’d walked out of her life without a word, without a look back. “You don’t remember,” she said, her voice barely audible. “You don’t remember any of it.” Lucien’s expression darkened, his black eye flickering with something she couldn’t name. “I remember enough.” Aurora’s heart pounded, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “Then why didn’t you come back?” Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers, his voice low and dangerous. “Because I was afraid.” Aurora’s breath hitched. “Afraid of what?” “Afraid of losing you,” he said, his voice rough. “Afraid of losing myself.” Aurora’s chest tightened, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, to see if he was real. But she didn’t. Instead, she stepped back, putting distance between them. “That’s not an answer.” Lucien’s expression softened, just slightly. “It’s the best I’ve got.” Aurora exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. But I need time. And I need answers.” Lucien nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “You’ll have them.” Aurora looked away, her fingers tracing the scar on her wrist. “And the deal?” Lucien’s lips curved into a smile, slow and dangerous. “The deal is still on the table.” Aurora exhaled, her breath shaky. “Then we have a deal.” Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers, his voice low and dangerous. “We do.” Aurora swallowed, her pulse roaring in her ears. She knew what she was getting into. She knew the risks, the dangers, the things that could go wrong. But she also knew that she couldn’t walk away. Not from this. Not from him. Lucien’s gaze darkened, his black eye flickering with something she couldn’t name. “Tomorrow night,” he said, his voice low and rough. “At the old archive. Be ready.” Aurora nodded, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “Tomorrow night.” Lucien turned, his cane tapping against the floor as he moved toward the door. “Don’t be late.” Aurora watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what she was doing. She knew the risks, the dangers, the things that could go wrong. But she also knew that she couldn’t walk away. Not from this. Not from him. She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. She had a deal to make. A secret to uncover. And a man to confront. And for the first time in years, Aurora Carter felt alive.