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I shifted, pressing closer to him, needing his warmth. His strength.

Lucas stirred, his arm tightening, his lips brushing my temple. “You’re thinking too loud,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

I smiled faintly, but it didn’t last. “I can’t stop.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tilted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were dark, steady, endless. “You’re not alone in this, Annika.”

“I know.”

“You don’t.” He brushed his thumb across my cheek, soft but unyielding. “Not yet. But you will.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to drown in his words, his touch, and forget everything outside this room. But the world didn’t stop turning just because we wanted it to.

“They’re coming,” I whispered.

“I’ll kill them.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can.”

His voice was hard, sharp, but I could feel the softness in the way he pulled me closer, the way he kissed me like it might be the last time.

And maybe it would be.

I didn’t say it out loud, but he must have felt it, because his lips found mine again, fiercer this time. Desperate.

And for a little while, the fear faded.

But when the fire burned out completely and the darkness crept in, I was still awake. Still listening to his heartbeat. And still wondering if it would be enough.

Chapter Four

Lucas

The underground cell reeked of damp stone and old blood. Stale air pressed against my skin, heavy and cold, clinging like rot. The runes carved into the walls pulsed faintly, their glow dim but steady, holding the darkness at bay.

And him.

Damien sat in the corner, half in shadow. He looked smaller than I remembered, though I knew better. The runes didn’t just bind his power—they drained it, starved it, until he was a hollow echo of what he used to be. But his eyes still burned, sharp and hungry, like they always had.

He smiled when I stepped closer. “You look tired, nephew.” His voice was smooth, but there was rot beneath it. I didn’t answer.

Damien pushed to his feet, slow and deliberate, letting the chains clink against the floor. They were silver-lined, laced with spells strong enough to hold him. Even so, I stayed out of reach.

“It’s been a year, Lucas.” He paced, restless, like a caged animal. “You’ve had your punishment. Your control. Your moral victory.” He stopped, turning to face me. “Now let me out.”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, keeping my expression flat. “No.”

His smile faded. “No?”

“No.”

The chains rattled as he yanked against them. “I haven’t fed in months! I haven’t even seen daylight—not that it matters down here.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing at the narrow cell. “What more do you want? I’ve been civil. Patient. Fair.”

“You don’t know what fair means.”

His eyes flashed. “And you do?”