Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQRC4TK94J9N5X35X8BNXP

Aurora's fingers froze on the doorknob. Through the peephole, Lucien's tall frame filled the narrow hallway of Eva's building, his platinum hair catching the harsh fluorescent light. Her pulse quickened. She hadn't seen him since that night at the docks three months ago. "I know you're there, chérie. I can hear you breathing." His voice carried through the door, that familiar French lilt making her stomach twist. Aurora pressed her forehead against the cool wood. "Eva's not here." "I'm not looking for Eva." Of course he wasn't. Aurora glanced down at her oversized jumper and leggings - hardly the outfit for facing Lucien Moreau, who probably emerged from the womb wearing a bespoke suit. She unlocked the first deadbolt. Then the second. Her hand hesitated over the third. "What do you want, Lucien?" "To talk. Please." That 'please' did it. In all the months she'd known him, she'd never heard him say that word. She opened the door. Lucien stood with one hand in his pocket, the other gripping his ivory-handled cane. His charcoal suit was immaculate as always, but shadows lurked under his eyes. His mismatched gaze locked onto her face. "You look terrible," Aurora said. A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "You look beautiful." She stepped back, allowing him inside. Eva's tabby cat Ptolemy darted between Lucien's legs and disappeared behind a stack of ancient texts. The flat felt smaller with him in it, his presence filling every corner. "Three months without a word, and now you show up at midnight?" Aurora crossed her arms. "Did you run out of other people to manipulate?" Lucien's jaw tightened. He leaned his cane against the wall. "I deserved that." "You deserve worse." She moved to the kitchenette, putting the counter between them. "You used me to get to Eva's grimoire. Made me think-" She cut herself off, refusing to voice how foolish she'd been. "Is that what you believe?" His voice dropped lower. "That everything was a manipulation?" "Wasn't it?" She grabbed the kettle, needed something to do with her hands. "The drinks at Silas's bar, the late-night walks, all those conversations about my life in Cardiff?" Water splashed over the sink's edge. "Was any of it real?" Lucien moved closer, his steps silent on the cluttered floor. "All of it was real. Every moment." "Right." She slammed the kettle down. "That's why you vanished the second you got what you wanted." "I left to protect you." Aurora barked out a laugh. "Original. Did you practice that line in front of a mirror?" "Dammit, Rory." He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling its perfect arrangement. "The grimoire wasn't for me. There are people - dangerous people - who wanted it. The further you were from me, the safer you'd be." "That wasn't your choice to make." She turned to face him, anger and hurt burning behind her eyes. "I'm not some fragile thing that needs protecting. I survived Evan, I survived moving to London, I'm surviving this whole supernatural nightmare. I deserved the truth." Lucien closed the distance between them, his heterochromatic eyes intense. "You're right. I should have trusted you. But when I saw Malachi's men at the docks..." His hands gripped the counter edge on either side of her. "The thought of them getting to you because of me-" "So you just decided for both of us?" Her voice cracked. "Do you know what it was like, waking up alone in that warehouse? Not knowing if you were dead or alive?" "Every day away from you has been torture." His thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "Je suis désolé, mon coeur." Aurora's hand found the crescent scar on her wrist, a nervous habit. "I can't do this again, Luc. I can't let you in just to watch you walk away." "Then don't let me walk away." His forehead touched hers, breath warm against her lips. "Come with me. Help me finish this. Together."