"Lucien Ashborne" had not aged in over three hundred years.
The world did change around him anyway.
Glass skyscrapers replaced stone,gold became digital, kingdoms collapsed into corporations. However Lucien remained himself tall, broad-shouldered,sharp jawline,his white hair almost as white as snow,his eyes so intense people look away first as he seemed unreal like something you'd read out of a novel. He did adapt as he always did quietly, flawlessly, effortlessly without leaving fingerprints on time itself.
From the top floor of "Ashborne Tower", which was a kingdom once upon a time, Lucien started at the city which looked so small from where he stood.
Lucien stood by the floor to ceiling windows hands in his pockets,black suit cut perfectly to his frame. Below him, traffic crawled like veins carrying light instead of blood.
"Your schedule is tight tonight" Mordain his best friend and loyal servant said calmly setting a table on the glass table behind him.
Lucien did not turn "cancel the dinner", he replied. His voice was smooth ,cultured, unhurried."move the board meeting forward by an hour"
Mordain hesitated "that's the third cancellation this week".
Lucien finally glanced over his shoulder. One look was enough.
Mordain inclined his head immediately "understood".
Humans often described "Lucien Ashborne" as intimidating,not because he raised his voice, he never did but because he carried himself like someone used to being obeyed, used to rulling.
By day he was a billionaire CEO whose face appeared on magazine covers he rarely acknowledged. By night,...
Lucien's gaze flickered briefly to the clock ."two nights until descent". He always returned to hell every 3 nights.
The gala was tedious, Lucien attended only because absence bred suspicion, and suspicion was dangerous. Crystal chandeliers reflected off Mabel floors, the air smelled of expensive perfume and ambition. Every room fell slightly quieter when he entered . women stared,men measured themselves against him and failed.
He accepted handshakes, exchanged words, smiled when required.it was all performance.
Then...he felt it.
A shift, subtle, wrong.
Not power, not threat.
Just...."presence".
Lucien's eyes moved across the room, stopping on a woman near the balcony doors.
"Lilith Crowe" wasn't trying to be noticed. that was what made her noticeable. She stood alone,dressed simply in a black dress , dark hair falling loose over her shoulders, gaze distant as if she were listening to something no one else could hear.
Lucien frowned faintly deep in thought as he strolled to her. He had seen beauty in every form imaginable, he had watched empires rise dressed in silk and gold, had stood beside gods sculpted to inspire worship. None of it moved him until he saw "her" the black gown she wore clung to her like a confession understated, deliberate, dangerously honest, it traced the soft curvy of her body without apology, the slit revealing just enough of her leg to suggest motion, not invitation but inviting at the same time, the open back caught his attention longer than it should have, pale skin framed by darkness like something meant to be touched but never claimed.
She wasn't trying to be noticed.
That was the problem.
Lucien felt a rare, sharp pull beneath his ribs .
Not desire.
Not hunger.
"Recognition" his gaze followed her once instinctively and he hated himself for the fraction of a second where restraint slipped.
"Dangerous", he thought not because of what she wore ,but because of what she awakened.
"Interesting" he muttered under his breath. He approached without urgency, glass of champagne untouched in his hand.
"You look like someone reconsidering all their life choices", he said lightly.
Lilith startled, then turned to him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Her eyes were dark, steady, unimpressed.
"That obvious"? She asked.
Lucien smiled a human smile polished, harmless "only to someone who's been there" he replied slowly
She studied him openly then shrugged "I got dragged here". I don't belong.
Lucien raised a brow."neither do I"
That earned a soft laugh.
Something about it lingered .
They spoke for a few minutes, nothing important, work, weather, disdain for social interactions. Lilith didn't fawn nor did she flirt
Lucien found that.... refreshing.
When she excused herself, he watched her go longer than necessary.
Mordain appeared beside him instantly "you shouldn't linger" Mordain murmured
"Tonight"...
"I know ", Lucien said
Still his gaze followed Lilith until she disappeared into the crowd. For the first time in decades Lucien felt unsettled.
Later that night, alone in his penthouse, Lucien loosened his tie and stood before the mirror. His reflection stares back flawless, unchanging.
Then.....the lights flickered Lucien's eyes darkened. Far below, somewhere unseen, a seal trembled. And in the silence of the room, Lucien realized something he had not felt in centuries....
"Anticipation"