Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRN8Y1D5AN1YS30B3KDW7M

Aurora swung the door open without checking the peephole. The day’s chill still clung to her coat, a reminder of the damp London afternoon she’d just endured. Standing there, framed by the grey sky beyond the cracked brick of the street, was Lucien Moreau — the last person Rory had expected to see on her doorstep, and the one she’d tried hardest to forget. The amber eye caught the fading light, flickering with the usual unnerving calm, while his black eye stayed dark and unreadable beneath those sleek platinum strands. He wore the charcoal suit like a second skin, perfectly tailored and absent of a hint of concern. His ivory-handled cane rested lightly against his arm; the blade hidden, but the threat unmistakable. “You look exactly the same,” he said, a crooked smile curling at the corner of his lips. Rory’s gaze dropped for a fraction of a second to the small crescent scar on her wrist, half-covered by the sleeve of her jacket. The one reminder of a past she’d tried to bury, like the tangled history between them. “I didn’t expect you,” she said, pushing the door wider without inviting him in. The flat on Brick Lane felt smaller than usual suddenly. Ptolemy, Eva’s tabby cat, darted between Rory’s legs, tail flicking in suspicion. Lucien stepped inside without hesitation, the familiar scent of cedarwood and faint tobacco filling the air. “Eva’s all work and no play. I thought you might want a break.” Rory crossed her arms. “I have a break every day. Preferably not with you.” He raised an eyebrow, settling onto the worn armchair near the window. “Still sharp. I remember when you were sharper.” Silence fell for a moment. Outside, the distant rumble of London’s night traffic, a siren’s wail fading in the distance. “You’re here because you want something,” she said, voice steady but tight. “Straight to the point,” Lucien smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I need your help.” “I don’t do favors for half-demons,” she said, voice low. “That’s not fair.” He leaned forward, cane tapping gently against the floor, eyes locked on hers. “I’m not the same man you left behind.” She bit her lip. The past surged unbidden—arguments spiralling, harsh words echoing through nights spent alone. The way he’d vanished without explanation. The way Rory had felt fractured, pieces left behind in their runaway mess of a relationship. “I’m not the same woman either,” she said, voice breaking at the edge despite her efforts. He reached out before she could shut the door, fingers brushing hers. “Neither of us are, Rory.” Her breath hitched; the old pull twisted in her chest, the ache of unspoken things. She yanked her hand back and folded her arms again. Ptolemy leapt onto the windowsill, eyes bright, watching. Lucien’s smile softened, but his eyes hardened. “I don’t have long. There’s something coming, something big, something I can’t face alone.” Rory’s heart thumped wildly. “You expect me to just… trust you?” “No,” he said quietly. “I’m asking you to believe me. For once.” She stared at the man she’d loved and lost—wounded and proud—and felt the tension tear between them like the cold wind outside. “Why now?” she breathed. “Because the world we know is shifting. You of all people sense it.” The memories flashed like lightning—her nights pacing the cramped flat, the weight of Eva’s texts urging her to run, the late deliveries at the Golden Empress where she’d barely held herself together. “I’m not the same person you think I am,” Rory whispered. “Maybe you’re right,” Lucien said, standing with a fluid grace that still made her breath catch. “But if we don’t find a way through this, neither of us will be.” The room seemed suddenly too small, the past and present pressing in hard. Quiet moments stretched, heavy with what was and what could have been. Lucien’s fingers brushed a stray lock of her hair, soft as a secret. “Let me in,” he said, voice low. “Not just here. Let me in for real.” Rory’s eyes searched his face, then flicked down to the crescent scar. Her breath came steady at last. “One night,” she said softly. “But that’s all.” He nodded, a slow smile unfurling. “One night.” The door creaked closed behind him as the city’s lights flickered to life beyond the window, watching the fragile bridge being rebuilt between past and future.