Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0A8W4C8T806AQGJWT6D0M

The knock came three times — sharp, deliberate. Rory froze halfway through unstacking her takeout containers on Eva’s kitchen table. She glanced at Ptolemy, who lifted his head from his perch on the windowsill, ears twitching. “Expecting someone?” Eva didn’t look up from the scroll she was examining, her glasses perched low on her nose. “No.” Rory set down the container of spring rolls and wiped her hands on her jeans. “You?” Eva shook her head. “Could be Silas. Or—” The knock came again, louder this time. Rory’s stomach tightened. She moved to the door, her footsteps soft against the creaky floorboards. Through the peephole, she saw him — Lucien Moreau, standing in the dim hallway, one hand braced on his ivory-handled cane. His platinum blond hair was slicked back as usual, his tailored charcoal suit impeccable. Those heterochromatic eyes — one amber, one black — stared straight ahead, as if he could sense her watching. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the deadbolt. “Rory?” Eva’s voice carried a note of concern. “It’s Lucien.” Rory’s voice came out steadier than she felt. Eva’s chair scraped against the floor. “Want me to—” “No. It’s fine.” Rory unlocked the deadbolts one by one and opened the door just enough to peer out. “What are you doing here?” Lucien’s gaze flicked to hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way he held himself — a tension she hadn’t seen before. “We need to talk.” “We?” Her fingers tightened on the doorframe. “Last I checked, ‘we’ haven’t talked in months.” He exhaled, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t the place.” “Then why’d you come here?” “Because I knew you’d be here,” he said simply. His free hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach for her but thought better of it. “Can I come in, or do you want to have this conversation in the hallway?” Rory glanced over her shoulder. Eva was still sitting at the table, but her attention was firmly on them now. Rory stepped aside, holding the door open. “Five minutes.” He brushed past her, his cane tapping softly against the floorboards. Ptolemy hissed from the windowsill, his tail puffing up. “Lucien,” Eva said coolly, leaning back in her chair. “What brings you to Brick Lane?” “Business.” His gaze swept the room, taking in the clutter of books and scrolls. His nose wrinkled slightly. “Business?” Rory shut the door and folded her arms across her chest. “Since when do you do business in Eva’s flat?” “Since it involves you.” He turned to face her, his expression serious. “Something’s come up. Something you need to know about.” “Me?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or us?” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Both.” Eva cleared her throat. “I’ll give you two some space.” She stood, scooping Ptolemy into her arms. The tabby hissed again, glaring at Lucien as Eva carried him into the bedroom and shut the door behind them. The room felt smaller with just the two of them. Rory leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms still crossed. “Alright. Talk.” Lucien hesitated, his fingers tightening around the handle of his cane. “It’s Evan.” Her blood ran cold. “What about him?” “He’s back. In London.” Lucien’s voice was low, almost gentle. “And he’s looking for you.” Rory’s grip on her own arms tightened, her fingers digging into her skin. “How do you know?” “Because he came to me.” Lucien took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. “He’s desperate, Rory. Dangerous. He thinks I can help him find you.” “Did you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Of course not.” His jaw clenched. “But he’s not going to stop. And if he can’t find you…” He trailed off, the implication hanging in the air. “He’ll go after you.” She let out a shaky breath. “Why are you telling me this?” “Because you deserve to know.” His gaze dropped to her left wrist, where the small crescent-shaped scar peeked out from under her sleeve. “And because I don’t want you to get hurt.” She laughed — a sharp, bitter sound. “Funny. Didn’t seem like you cared much about that before.” He flinched, his eyes darkening. “That’s not fair.” “Isn’t it?” She pushed off the counter and took a step toward him. “You left, Lucien. No explanation, no goodbye. Just… gone.” “I had my reasons.” “Which you never shared.” Her voice rose, trembling with anger and hurt. “So excuse me if I’m not exactly jumping for joy that you’re here now, playing the hero.” “I didn’t come here to play the hero.” His voice was sharp now, edged with frustration. “I came here to protect you.” “Why? Because you feel guilty? Because you think you owe me something?” “Because I—” He stopped himself, his chest heaving. “Because I care about you, Rory. More than I should.” The words hung between them, raw and unspoken. Rory stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “You have a funny way of showing it.” “I know.” His shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. And I’m sorry.” She turned away, her eyes stinging. “Sorry doesn’t fix it.” “No,” he said quietly. “But it’s a start.” She wiped at her cheeks, frustrated with the tears that had escaped. “What do you want from me, Lucien?” “I want you to be safe.” His voice was soft now, almost pleading. “Let me help you.” “And then what?” She faced him again, her vision blurred. “You’ll disappear again?” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know.” “Of course you don’t.” She laughed again, hollow this time. “You never do.” He reached for her then, his hand brushing hers. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lean into it either. “Rory…” “Don’t.” She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Just don’t.” “I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said softly. “Just… trust me. For now.” She stared at him, searching his face for something — anything — that might make sense of the last few months. The way he’d left. The way he was here now. The way his hand felt against hers, warm and familiar and achingly painful. “Five minutes,” she whispered. “That’s all you get.” He nodded, his fingers tightening around hers. “That’s all I need.” She didn’t let go. Neither did he. And for a moment, the world outside Eva’s flat seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them in the quiet, cluttered room. The weight of everything unsaid hung heavy between them, but for now, it was enough. For now, they were together again. And for now, that was all that mattered.