Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRGTWP2D36492CYJHXHBN5

Rory’s hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the stack of takeout containers on the kitchen counter. Golden Empress had been busy that evening, and she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, a faint glimmer of stress rattling her usual calm demeanor. The tabby cat, Ptolemy, curled up in a sunbeam by the window, oblivious to her rush. Just as she began sorting through the last of the orders, a heavy knock reverberated through the cramped flat. She froze, her heart racing. By the feel of it, that wasn’t a deliveryman’s rap. She stepped cautiously toward the door, her mind racing with possibilities. What if it was an old customer? A neighbor? Or worse, Evan. Rory steadied herself, taking a deep breath. She opened the door just a crack, the chain still securing it. “Rory,” came the voice. Lucien. In that moment, she felt the air among them shift, vibrating with unspoken words and unresolved history. He stood there, drenched in the fading light, his sleek platinum hair slightly tousled, those striking eyes — one amber, one black — locking onto hers. “What are you doing here?” The question fell from her lips, edged with surprise. She didn’t have time or energy for a confrontation. “May I come in?” He nodded toward the open door, a cool smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rory hesitated, the memories flooding in—how they had last parted in a frenzy of emotions, shadows of hurt and misunderstanding lingering between them. But the fleeting moment of resolution on Lucien’s face stirred her curiosity. She unlatched the chain, opened the door wider, and stepped back, heart thrumming against her ribcage. Lucien glided in, his tailored suit hugging his frame in a way that made her physiological instincts flare, a memory of his presence flooding the room. “You look well.” He glanced around, taking in the scattered books and research notes that filled every inch. “I’m... busy.” She picked at a nail, avoiding his gaze. “Right. Working on whether the supernatural exists or not?” He arched an eyebrow, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Something like that.” The corner of her mouth lifted but quickly faltered. “What’s this really about, Luc? You don’t show up unannounced unless you need something.” He sighed, shifting his weight, leaning against the wall. “Always straight to the point. It’s part of your charm.” “Is it?” Her throat tightened. “Or maybe it’s just a defense mechanism. You know how character can be shaped by those we let in.” He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, the movement both vexed and familiar. “You really think I came here to pry into your life? To stir up something that ended long ago?” Rory narrowed her eyes. “What’s the point? Just tell me what you need.” “Very well.” He stepped closer, a spark igniting in the air between them. “I have information. About Avaros. About the recent rise in supernatural occurrences. You’re dealing with more than you realize.” She folded her arms across her chest, her pulse quickening but not entirely from fear. He held her attention in a way that set off alarms and desires simultaneously. “And?” Lucien gestured around the cluttered flat, his gaze scanning the chaos of books and scrolls. “This could amplify your findings. Together, we could—” “Together?” The word felt heavy on her tongue. “We both know how that ended. You are a function of my past, Lucien. I’m not interested in whatever this is.” “Yet you opened the door,” he countered, a hint of playfulness creeping back into his voice. “Curiosity? Or something more?” Rory shut her eyes, shaking her head. She couldn’t afford to get tangled back in the web of their past. The memories hovered like ghosts, filling every crevice of her mind; the laughter, the arguments, the pain. “Are we really going to do this?” she said, exasperation boiling to the surface. “You didn’t just walk out. You vanished, Luc. You left me in the dark.” “And I came back,” he said softly, sincerity threading through his voice. “Not to reopen old wounds, but because the past is colliding with the present. There’s trouble brewing.” “That’s your approach? Guilt tripping me into joining your crusade?” She shook her head, resisting the emotional tide he stirred in her. Lucien stepped closer, lowering his voice. “It’s not just about us anymore. If Avaros is shaking loose its demons into the world, then it affects you, affects everything. You know I didn’t choose to leave.” “Neither did I, Luc.” The sadness in her voice pierced the space between them. “I had to escape.” Ptolemy paused, lifting his head to inspect the tension, whiskers twitching. “Your life doesn’t have to belong to the past,” he pressed, notes of urgency rising. “You can still choose, Rory. You always have.” She met his gaze, the fire in his eyes awakening old feelings she thought she buried. “You don’t get to act like you care after pushing me away. That kind of care doesn’t just come back.” “But that’s the thing,” he countered. “I never stopped caring. You think it was easy being away? You’re still in my mind, in every deal I made, every risk I took.” “What do you expect me to say?” Frustration churned in her stomach. “Thank you for disappearing? For showing up now?” “Just consider it.” Lucien paused, his expression softening. “Together, again. We can make sure nothing slips through the cracks. I wanted to keep you safe—” “Safe?” she interrupted, incredulous. “You talk about safety while bringing Avaros into my life? How does that make sense?” His chest heaved emotionally, and she saw the ghost of regret flicker across his features. “I thought I could protect you from it all. But it found you anyway, didn’t it?” The acknowledgment soothed the ache in Rory’s heart, if only slightly. She took a step back, scanning the room filled with reminders of their history, moments suspended in time. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she whispered. “Just a chance to work together again,” he said, his tone measured yet filled with a desperate hope. “Or maybe to open old wounds?” she replied, crossing her arms tighter, the tension between them taut. “And heal them.” His voice was steady, filled with conviction. “We don’t have to stay lost in the past.” At that moment, the air shifted. She saw it in his eyes—an echo of the attraction they shared, the pulse of an unresolved connection that lingered like a whisper in the dark. Maybe she had opened the door enough to let in the possibility of more than just chaos.