The pounding on Aria's door grew sharper, too steady… too confident.
Not someone lost.
Not someone panicked.
Someone who knew she was inside.
Lucien moved quietly, positioning himself between her and the door. His shoulders were tense, every muscle ready.
Aria's breath hitched. "Who is it?"
Lucien didn't look back at her when he whispered,
"Not someone you want to meet."
The knocking stopped.
Silence.
Then a low male voice spoke through the door—silky, calm, chilling in how familiar it sounded.
"Aria. Open the door. I know you're awake."
Aria's blood turned cold.
That voice—
Lucien's head snapped toward her, his expression sharp.
"You know him?"
"I— I don't know," Aria whispered. But something in her chest twisted with recognition she couldn't explain.
The voice spoke again.
"You shouldn't keep him inside your room, Aria. He's dangerous."
Lucien's hand curled into a fist. "If he tries that door—"
The door handle turned.
Aria gasped.
Lucien grabbed her by the waist and pulled her behind him, his voice low and fierce.
"Don't move."
But the handle stopped mid-turn.
The stranger chuckled softly, as if amused.
"I'll see you soon… Aria."
His footsteps faded down the hall.
Silence returned, heavy and suffocating.
Aria couldn't breathe until Lucien exhaled unsteadily and pressed a hand against the wall beside her, controlling himself.
"Don't ever open your door late at night," he said. His voice was harsh, not because he was angry at her—he was frightened for her. "If he had gotten inside—"
Aria touched his wrist gently.
"Who was he, Lucien? You recognized him. I saw your face."
Lucien shut his eyes tightly, like he was forcing himself not to say something.
"He's connected to your sister's disappearance."
Her heart dropped.
Lucien stepped closer, his breath brushing her forehead.
He wasn't touching her, but the space between them crackled with tension—dangerous, forbidden, magnetic.
"Aria," he said quietly, "I need you to trust me. You are in more danger than you understand."
Her voice trembled. "Why would someone like him be looking for me?"
Lucien opened his eyes, and for the first time, there was no coldness at all—only fear for her.
"Because you're not supposed to be alive."
Aria staggered backward. "What…?"
Lucien caught her, his hands steady on her arms.
"Someone erased every record of you from Westhall three years ago. And your sister… she tried to expose it."
Aria's pulse hammered wildly. "What are you saying?"
Lucien swallowed hard—like the truth was a blade cutting him from the inside.
"I'm saying, Aria…" His voice dropped, deep and pained.
"Losing you terrifies me more than anything else in my life."
Aria stared at him—this cold, untouchable man standing in her small room, shaking, not from anger but from fear.
And suddenly everything felt too quiet. Too close.
Aria whispered, "Lucien… why do you care so much?"
His jaw tightened.
He looked away.
Then back at her.
And the truth slipped out before he could stop it:
"Because I've been trying not to fall for you since the day we met."
Aria froze.
Her heart stopped.
Restarted.
Exploded into panic and hope and confusion.
Lucien's breath shook.
"This isn't allowed. It's dangerous for both of us. But every time I walk away…" He looked tormented. "I end up right back here."
Aria didn't move.
She couldn't.
Neither did he.
The space between them felt like a held breath—fragile, burning.
But before either of them could speak again—
A scream echoed through the hallway.
A woman's scream.
Lucien grabbed her hand immediately.
"Stay behind me. Don't let go."
And together, they ran toward the sound.