Run: 2026-02-19-01KHSZ8ZSKP988808NK1F067HP

Aurora froze with her hand on the final deadbolt. The familiar silhouette through the peephole couldn't be mistaken, even distorted by the curved glass. Her pulse quickened as memories flooded back—memories she'd spent months trying to bury. She drew a steadying breath and pulled the door open. "Lucien." His name left her lips as barely more than a whisper. He stood in the dim hallway of Eva's apartment building, the smell of curry from the restaurant below permeating the air between them. His platinum hair caught the feeble light, slicked back immaculately as always. One amber eye and one black eye regarded her with an unreadable expression. "Hello, Aurora." His French accent lilted her name in a way that still made something flutter in her chest, despite everything. Ptolemy darted between her legs and circled Lucien's ankles, purring loudly. The traitor. "What are you doing here?" Aurora gripped the edge of the door, unsure whether to close it or open it wider. "May I come in? Unless you'd prefer to have this conversation in the hallway." His gaze flicked toward the neighboring doors. She hesitated, then stepped back. "Fine." Lucien entered with the subtle tap of his ivory-handled cane against the worn floorboards. His charcoal suit looked as impeccable as ever, a stark contrast to her faded jeans and oversized jumper. He moved with practiced grace through the cramped space, navigating around precarious stacks of Eva's books and scrolls. "Your friend's research has multiplied since I was last here." He paused at a table overflowing with ancient texts. "Eva's tracking a demonic artifact in Edinburgh." Aurora closed the door, her fingers automatically checking that the deadbolts were secure. Old habits. "She'll be gone for weeks." "I know." Of course he did. Lucien knew everything that happened in London's supernatural underbelly. It was his business to know. "You didn't answer my question." She crossed her arms. "Why are you here?" He turned to face her fully, leaning slightly on his cane. The overhead light caught the angles of his face, highlighting cheekbones that could cut glass. "I came to warn you." "Warn me?" A chill ran down her spine. "About what?" "Someone's been asking questions about you." His voice lowered. "About Malphora." Aurora flinched at the name—her other identity, the one she'd created in the shadow world Lucien inhabited. "Who?" "That's what concerns me. I don't know." He moved closer, his cane making soft taps against the floor. "My sources are... unusually reticent." "You came all this way to tell me someone's gossiping about me?" She raised an eyebrow, trying to mask how unsettled she felt. "I'm touched by your concern, but I can handle myself." "Can you? The last time you 'handled yourself,' I found you bleeding out in an alley in Whitechapel." The words hung between them, heavy with the weight of their shared history. "That was different." Aurora unconsciously touched her left wrist, fingers tracing the crescent-shaped scar hidden beneath her sleeve. "I wasn't prepared then." "And you believe you're prepared now? For what's coming?" "Why don't you tell me what's coming, Lucien?" Her voice sharpened. "Or did you just come here to speak in riddles and stir up the past?" A muscle twitched in his jaw—the only indication that her words had struck a nerve. He placed his cane against the wall and removed his suit jacket, draping it carefully over the back of a chair. "Three of my informants have vanished in the past week." He rolled up his shirtsleeves with meticulous precision. "The last one managed to send me a message before he disappeared. Just one word." "Let me guess. Malphora?" "No." His mismatched eyes locked with hers. "Carter." The air left her lungs. No one in the supernatural world knew her real surname. She'd been careful. Paranoid, even. "That's impossible." "I thought so too. Until I traced the trail back to Cardiff." Cardiff. Her hometown. Where her parents still lived. Where everything had started with Evan. "Someone's connected the dots between Aurora Carter and Malphora." Lucien's voice gentled. "Someone who knows about your family, your past... and your abilities." Aurora sank onto the sofa, shoving aside a stack of research notes. Her mind raced through possibilities, each more troubling than the last. "Why come to me with this? Why not send a message through your usual channels?" He hesitated, then sat beside her, close enough that she could catch the faint scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something else, something not quite human. "Because I owed you that much." His gaze dropped to her wrist, to the scar hidden beneath her sleeve. "After everything." "You don't owe me anything, Lucien." She turned away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. "We were clear about that when I left." "Were we?" His laugh held no humor. "I remember a rather spectacular argument in which you threw a priceless grimoire at my head." "You deserved it." "Perhaps I did." Silence stretched between them, filled with all the things they'd never said. Aurora watched Ptolemy leap onto a bookshelf, dislodging a scroll that unfurled across the floor. "I should have told you the truth from the beginning." Lucien spoke to the scroll rather than to her. "About what I am. About my father." "Half-demon, half-human." She'd pieced it together eventually, after months in his world. "From Avaros." He looked up, surprise flashing across his face. "You've done your research." "I had time. After." She gestured vaguely at the books surrounding them. "Eva has quite the collection on demon realms." "And does your research tell you why I kept it from you?" "Because you thought I'd run." Aurora met his gaze steadily. "Because everyone runs when they discover what you are." Something flickered in his mismatched eyes—pain, perhaps, or recognition. "Not everyone. You didn't run when you found out. You threw things at me instead." A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "The grimoire was just the start." "I still have the scar from the silver paperweight." "Good." Lucien leaned forward, closing the distance between them. "I didn't come just to warn you, Aurora." Her breath caught. "Then why?" "Because whoever is hunting you knows things only someone close to you could know. Someone like me." "Are you saying you think it's your fault?" "I'm saying I won't let them find you." His hand moved toward hers, then stopped, hovering in the space between them. "I'm saying I made a mistake letting you walk away." Aurora stared at his hand—elegant fingers that she knew could wield both magic and that concealed blade with deadly precision. Fingers that had once traced patterns on her skin in the dark. "It wasn't just your decision." Her voice came out huskier than she intended. "I chose to leave." "Because I gave you reason to." "Because we were impossible, Lucien." She stood abruptly, needing space. "A half-demon fixer and a human girl running from her past? We were a disaster waiting to happen." "And yet here I am." He rose too, facing her. "And here you are. Still running, still hiding." "I'm not hiding anymore. I have a life here. A job." "Delivering takeaway for Golden Empress?" He arched an eyebrow. "Your talents are wasted, and you know it." "Better than using them to broker deals between warlocks and who knows what else." The old argument rose to her lips easily, as if no time had passed. "I'm done with that world." "That world isn't done with you." He stepped closer. "And neither am I." The air between them crackled with tension. Aurora was acutely aware of how close he stood, of the heat radiating from his body. "What do you want from me, Lucien?" "Come back with me. Let me protect you until we find out who's hunting you." "Back to your world of half-truths and shadow deals? No thanks." "Back to my home." His voice dropped lower. "Where I can keep you safe." "I don't need your protection." "Don't you?" His fingers brushed the scar on her wrist, sending a shiver through her. "Someone has connected Aurora Carter to Malphora. They know your real name, your hometown. How long before they find this place? Before they find you?" Aurora pulled her arm away, but the ghost of his touch lingered. "And what's your plan? Hide me away while you work your mysterious contacts? Keep me in the dark like last time?" "No." Lucien caught her gaze and held it. "This time, we work together. No secrets. No half-truths." "You don't know how to exist without secrets, Lucien." "For you, I can learn." The sincerity in his voice made her heart clench. She'd heard promises from him before, but never like this—never so raw, so stripped of his usual calculated charm. "Why should I trust you now?" "Because despite everything, you're the only person who's ever seen me. Really seen me." He reached for her again, and this time she didn't pull away when his fingers brushed hers. "And because I've never stopped looking for ways to deserve that trust."