Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPFWABFR0QRX4DZM3AVZS5

The door to Eva's flat swung open with a creak, revealing Aurora Carter standing in the dimly lit hallway. Her bright blue eyes, sharp and searching, met the mismatched gaze of Lucien Moreau. The Frenchman stood in the doorway, his tailored charcoal suit immaculate as ever, the ivory handle of his cane glinting in the low light. For a moment, neither spoke, the air between them thick with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. "Rory," Lucien said, his voice smooth, carrying the faintest trace of his French origins. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. "I wasn't expecting you." Aurora hesitated, her hand brushing the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist, a nervous habit she hadn't quite shaken. "I wasn't expecting to be here," she replied, her tone cool, though her heart raced beneath her calm exterior. She stepped inside, the familiar scent of curry from the restaurant below mingling with the musty aroma of old books and parchment. The flat was as she remembered—cramped, every surface cluttered with books, scrolls, and research notes. Ptolemy, Eva's tabby cat, lounged on a stack of papers, watching the newcomers with lazy interest. Aurora's gaze flicked over the room, landing briefly on the cat before returning to Lucien. "Eva's not here," Lucien said, closing the door behind her. The sound of the deadbolts sliding into place echoed in the small space, a reminder of the world outside, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of London's supernatural underbelly. "I know," Aurora replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I came to see you." Lucien arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Aurora shifted her weight, her mind racing to find the right words. It had been months since they'd last seen each other, months since she'd walked away from the tangled web of their relationship, leaving behind more questions than answers. "I need your help," she admitted finally, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. Lucien's expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something more earnest. "Of course," he said, moving to the small kitchenette where a kettle sat on the stove. "Tea?" She nodded, grateful for the distraction. As he busied himself with the kettle, Aurora took a moment to study him. Lucien was a man of contradictions—half-demon, half-human, a creature of both worlds and yet belonging to neither. His heterochromatic eyes, one amber, one black, seemed to see through her, peeling back the layers she so carefully constructed. "How have you been?" he asked, his back to her as he prepared the tea. The question was simple, yet loaded with meaning. "Busy," she replied, leaning against the cluttered table. "Work's been... interesting." Lucien chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "I can imagine. Delivering for Yu-Fei must be quite the adventure." "More than you'd think," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "But it's not just work. There's something else." He turned, two steaming mugs in hand, and offered her one. "Go on." Aurora took the mug, the warmth seeping into her fingers. She took a sip, the familiar taste of chamomile calming her nerves. "It's about Evan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Lucien's expression darkened, the mention of her ex stirring a protective instinct within him. "What about him?" "He's back," she said, meeting his gaze. "And he's looking for me." Lucien's grip on his mug tightened, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "Have you seen him?" "No, but I've heard things. He's been asking around, trying to find out where I am." She paused, the memory of Evan's possessive gaze flashing in her mind. "I can't let him find me, Lucien." "You won't have to," he said, his voice firm, reassuring. "I'll make sure of it." Aurora nodded, relief washing over her. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear those words until now. "Thank you," she said, her voice softening. Lucien set his mug down, stepping closer to her. "You know I'd do anything for you, Rory." The sincerity in his voice, the intensity of his gaze, made her heart skip a beat. She looked away, focusing on the cluttered table, the chaos of books and papers mirroring the turmoil inside her. "I know," she said, her voice barely audible. Silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of their shared history. Aurora could feel the pull of him, the magnetic force that had drawn them together time and again, despite the odds. She glanced up, meeting his gaze once more, and saw the same longing reflected in his eyes. "Why did you leave?" he asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air like a challenge. Aurora hesitated, the truth tangled in her throat. "I was scared," she admitted finally. "Of what we were becoming, of what it meant." Lucien nodded, his expression unreadable. "And now?" "Now..." She took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Now I realize that running away didn't solve anything. It just made me realize how much I miss you." His eyes softened, the tension in his posture easing. "I've missed you too, Rory." The admission hung between them, a fragile bridge spanning the chasm of their past. Aurora took a step forward, closing the distance between them. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through her. Lucien's hand closed around hers, his grip firm, reassuring. "We'll figure this out," he said, his voice a promise. Aurora nodded, the knot in her chest loosening. For the first time in months, she felt a glimmer of hope, a sense of possibility. Together, they could face whatever came their way, the shadows of the past no longer holding them captive. As they stood there, hand in hand, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bound by a connection that defied explanation. In that moment, Aurora knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together, their hearts beating in unison, a testament to the power of love and redemption.