Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTYSAGMDBHAE7QZ7JXVBEZ3

Three deadbolts slid back, one after another, the metal clunks echoing in the narrow hallway. Aurora Carter pulled the door open and the smell of cumin and rain rushed in. Lucien Moreau stood on the landing, water dripping from the hem of his charcoal suit onto the worn linoleum. His platinum hair stuck to his forehead, darkened by the downpour outside. He leaned on the ivory handle of his cane, the tip tapping once against the floorboard. Aurora gripped the edge of the door, her knuckles white. She did not step back. Lucien lifted his head. The amber eye caught the hallway light while the black one swallowed it. "You changed the locks." "I changed everything." Aurora turned and walked into the room, leaving the door open. Lucien followed. He closed the door behind him and engaged the top bolt, then the middle, then the bottom. The sound sealed them inside. The flat smelled of old paper and the curry house below. Stacks of books and scrolls covered every surface, leaving only narrow paths to walk. Ptolemy, the tabby cat, sat atop a pile of research notes on the kitchen counter. The cat stared at Lucien, tail twitching, then let out a low growl. Lucien ignored the animal. He navigated the clutter without knocking anything over, his movements precise. He stopped in the centre of the room, the cane hooking over his wrist. "Eva told me you were here." "Eva talks too much." Aurora moved to the kitchen counter, putting the granite slab between them. She crossed her arms over her chest. The crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist peeked out from her sleeve. Lucien's gaze dropped to the mark, then returned to her face. "You look well." "Get to the point, Lucien." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. He placed it on top of a stack of hardbacks near his hand. "There is a situation. Avaros bleeds into the city. More than before." "That sounds like a problem for your kind." "Our kind," Lucien corrected. His voice stayed low, smooth like polished stone. "You carry the mark. You know what happens when the veil thins." Aurora picked up the envelope. She did not open it. She held it by the corner, as if it might burn her. "I left that life. I left you." "You ran." "I walked away." Lucien stepped around the counter. Aurora held her ground. He stopped inches from her, close enough that she could smell the rain on his wool coat and the faint scent of sandalwood beneath it. He towered over her, five foot eleven to her five foot six, but she did not tilt her head up. "You fled to Cardiff. Then to London. Now you hide in a flat above a curry house with three deadbolts on the door." "I live here." "You survive here." Lucien reached out. His fingers hovered near her wrist, over the scar. He did not touch her. The heat radiating from his hand prickled her skin. She pulled her arm back. "Don't." "You flinch." "I react." Lucien dropped his hand. He turned away, walking toward the window. The glass rattled in the frame as thunder rolled over Brick Lane. He looked out at the wet street below, his reflection ghostly against the dark pane. "I did not come to argue about where you sleep." "Then why did you come?" Lucien turned back. The heterochromatic eyes narrowed. "Because they found you. The ones who hunt the bloodlines. They know you are in London. They know you are with Eva." Aurora pushed off the counter. She walked to the pile of scrolls near the sofa and began to gather them, stacking them with sharp, jerky movements. "I can handle myself." "You deliver noodles for the Golden Empress. You wear a helmet and ride a bicycle in the rain." "It pays the rent." "It makes you visible." Lucien walked toward her. He stopped when his shoes touched the hem of her jeans. He reached out and took the stack of scrolls from her hands. He placed them back on the table. "Look at me, Rory." She kept her eyes on the scrolls. "Aurora." "Rory." Lucien caught her chin. His grip was firm, not painful. He forced her to meet his gaze. The amber eye burned. The black one remained void. "They will not stop at delivery routes. They will come here. They will use Eva. They will use the cat." Ptolemy yowled from the counter. Aurora slapped his hand away. She stepped back until her legs hit the sofa. She sank onto the cushion, the upholstery creaking. "You left me in Marseille." "I saved you in Marseille." "You left." Lucien unbuttoned his suit jacket. He sat on the coffee table opposite her, the wood groaning under his weight. He rested his elbows on his knees, the cane lying across his thighs. "My father sent hunters. I drew them away. If I stayed, you would be dead." "You could have told me." "Would you have listened?" Aurora looked at the envelope on the stack of books. The paper was thick, cream-coloured, embossed with a seal she did not recognise but felt in her bones. A low hum vibrated in her chest, right where her ribs met. "What is in the letter?" "Names. Locations. Safe houses." "And the cost?" Lucien smiled. It did not reach his eyes. "You know there is always a cost." "I'm not going back to Avaros." "No. But you must stop running. Stand and fight." Aurora stood up. She walked to the window and looked out. The rain streaked the glass, blurring the lights of the passing cars below. Her reflection stared back, black hair framing a pale face, blue eyes wide. "I built a life here. A normal life." "There is no normal for us." Lucien stood. He picked up the cane. The blade inside clicked softly within the sheath. He walked to the door and placed his hand on the middle deadbolt. "I will be at the bar. Silas' place. Tonight. Midnight." "I'm not coming." Lucien paused. He looked over his shoulder. The light from the hallway cut across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. "You will come. Because you know I am the only one who can keep you alive." He unlocked the top bolt. "Wait." Lucien stopped. He did not turn around. Aurora walked toward him. She stopped behind him, close enough to feel the heat of his body but not touching. "Why now? Why come back after six months?" Lucien turned. He stepped into her space again. The air between them crackled, heavy with unsaid words and old hunger. He reached out and tucked a strand of straight black hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. "Because I dreamed of your death." Aurora caught his wrist. Her fingers wrapped around the pulse point. It beat slow, too slow for a human. "Was I dead in the dream?" "You were screaming." Lucien pulled his hand away. He finished unlocking the door. He opened it, letting the sound of the rain and the city flood back into the cramped flat. Ptolemy jumped down from the counter and wound himself around Aurora's ankles. "Midnight, Rory." Lucien stepped out into the hallway. He pulled the door shut, leaving Aurora standing in the silence of the room. The lock clicked. Then the second. Then the third. She stood alone with the smell of cumin and the envelope on the table. She looked at the window. Her reflection stared back, but for a second, the blue eyes looked black. She turned away from the glass and walked to the table. She picked up the envelope. She ran her thumb over the seal. The paper felt warm. She tore it open.