Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFDMA3HWH5Y4DKQ0MCS0M1

The knock came at precisely 9:47 PM. Aurora knew because she'd been staring at the clock for the past seventeen minutes, pretending to read the same paragraph of Eva's research notes for the third time. She padded across the cluttered living room on bare feet, sidestepping Ptolemy, who stretched lazily across the rug. The cat opened one eye, gave her a look of profound judgment, then returned to his nap. Through the peephole, she saw platinum-blond hair catching the hallway light. Her heart did that stupid thing where it tried to climb into her throat. She counted to three, then opened the door. Lucien Moreau stood there in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent, one hand resting on an ivory-handled cane. His amber eye caught the light first, then the black one, and suddenly she was seventeen again, sneaking into that forbidden library section with him, his breath warm against her ear as he translated ancient Latin under his breath. "Aurora," he said, and his voice was exactly the same—smooth as silk, edged with something she couldn't quite name. "May I come in?" She should say no. She should slam the door in his face and tell him to go to hell. Instead, she stepped back. "Ptolemy will judge you." The cat, predictably, had already judged him. He was now sitting upright, tail wrapped around his paws, watching Lucien with the intense focus of a creature who'd seen too much to be easily impressed. Lucien entered, moving with that particular grace she remembered—every step deliberate, every gesture controlled. He surveyed the chaos of books and scrolls, the half-empty tea mugs, the research notes scattered across every available surface. "You've been busy." "You could say that." She closed the door, leaning against it for support. "What are you doing here, Lucien?" He turned, and for a moment something flickered across his face—vulnerability, perhaps, or uncertainty. It was gone so quickly she might have imagined it. "I need your help." The words hung between them like a challenge. She crossed her arms. "After three years of silence, you show up at my door needing help?" "Three years." He repeated the words softly, almost to himself. "It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago." "Don't." Her voice cracked. "Don't do that. Don't make it sound poetic when you abandoned me." "I didn't abandon you." His jaw tightened. "I left to protect you." "Protect me from what? From you?" She pushed off from the door, anger giving her courage. "You never even told me what you were. Not really. Just hints and riddles and then—poof. Gone." He moved then, closing the distance between them in three swift steps. She should step back. She should keep the wall at her back where it was safe. Instead, she stayed put, breathing him in—that familiar scent of expensive cologne and something darker underneath. "I'm half-demon, Aurora." The words came out rough, stripped of all his usual polish. "Born in Marseille to a human mother who died when I was six, raised by a father from the realm of Avaros who thought emotions were weakness. I left because every day I stayed, I risked dragging you into a world that would destroy you." She searched his face, those mismatched eyes that had haunted her dreams for three years. "You could have told me. You could have trusted me." "I was trying to keep you safe." His hand came up, hesitated, then settled on her shoulder. The touch sent electricity through her. "But I've made a mistake. A big one. And I need someone who can think like you do—someone brilliant and fearless and stubborn enough to tell me when I'm being an idiot." She wanted to pull away. She wanted to lean into his touch. "What kind of mistake?" "The kind that involves a missing artifact, a very angry demon lord, and a price on my head that just went up by several million pounds." He dropped his hand, stepping back to create distance. "I need to find it before he does. And I need someone who can read ancient demonic scripts." Her breath caught. "You're talking about the Codex Maleficarum." His eyes widened slightly. "You've seen it?" "Not seen. Heard about. Eva's been researching it for months." She gestured to the chaos around them. "It's why I'm here. Why we're all here. The Codex is real, Lucien. And if you've lost it, or if someone's taken it from you..." "It wasn't taken." He ran a hand through his hair, disrupting the perfect slicked-back style. "I hid it. Three years ago, when I left. I thought I was being smart, putting it somewhere no one would think to look." "Where?" He met her gaze. "Your flat. In Cardiff. The one you shared with Evan." The name was a slap. She recoiled. "You hid a demonic artifact in my home? With my abusive ex?" "I didn't know about Evan then." His voice was tight with self-recrimination. "I thought it would be safe because no one from our world would think to look there. I was wrong on both counts." She began to pace, mind racing. "Evan must have found it. He always was nosy. But why would he keep it? He didn't believe in any of that stuff." "He might not have known what it was. Or he might be working with someone who does." Lucien moved to the window, checking the street below with the casual paranoia of someone who'd been hunted before. "Either way, we need to get to Cardiff. Now." She stopped pacing. "We?" His reflection in the window glass showed a slight smile. "I can't read the Codex without you. And I can't protect you without you knowing how to protect yourself." He turned. "Besides, I missed you, Aurora. Terribly. I know I have no right to say that, but it's true." The confession hung in the air, raw and honest in a way she'd never heard from him before. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him again. But three years of wondering, of questioning, of building a life without him—it wasn't something she could just set aside. "How do I know this isn't another trick?" she asked softly. "How do I know you're not using me again?" "Because this time, I'm asking instead of telling." He came back to her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. "Because I'm offering you the truth instead of hiding it. Because I'm terrified that if I lose you again, I'll lose the best part of myself." His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing her skin with infinite tenderness. She leaned into the touch before she could stop herself. "We'll need supplies," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Research materials. Weapons. And I need to tell Eva where I'm going." "Eva knows I was coming." He smiled, that familiar curve of lips that made her knees weak. "She's been expecting me for the past hour." She pulled back, startled. "You told Eva before you told me?" "I told Eva because I needed her research. I came to you because I needed you." His fingers traced her jawline. "Always you, Aurora. From the moment we met in that library, stealing forbidden books and secrets. You were my rebellion. My hope. My heart." The words were everything she'd wanted to hear for three years. But wanting and trusting were different things. "We'll go to Cardiff," she said finally. "We'll find this Codex. But slowly, Lucien. Slowly and carefully. And if I find out you're lying to me again—" "You won't." He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I swear on everything I am, I will never lie to you again." She wanted to believe him. God help her, she wanted to believe him so badly it hurt. "Then let's pack." She pulled her hand free, stepping back to gather her thoughts. "But I drive. And I pick the music." "Anything you want." He moved to help her gather research materials, movements efficient and practiced. "Though I should warn you, I know every word to every Taylor Swift song from the past decade." She paused, looking at him over a stack of books. "You're serious." "Completely." He grinned, and it was the boyish smile she remembered from those stolen moments in the library stacks. "I may be half-demon, but I have excellent taste in pop music." "Perfect." She stacked the books on the table, mind already racing ahead to Cardiff, to Evan, to the secrets waiting in her old flat. "Then we're going to get along just fine." Outside, the city moved on—cars honking, people laughing, lives continuing as they always did. But inside Eva's flat, something shifted. The past and present collided, and two people who had been broken apart began the slow, dangerous process of finding their way back to each other. The adventure was just beginning.