"I know you're here, Phoenix. I've been waiting for you to come home."
The words anchored me to the floor, freezing the blood in my veins. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. How? How could he possibly know? I hadn't made a sound. I was a ghost, a shadow birthed from a blackened-gold key, yet he spoke to the empty air with the chilling confidence of a man greeting an old friend.
I watched from my crouched position as he moved with agonizing slowness. He didn't reach for a gun or shout for the army of guards I knew patrolled this fortress. Instead, he reached for a crisp black shirt draped across the silk duvet. He slid it over his damp shoulders, buttoning it with steady, elegant fingers as if my presence—a literal assassin in his bedroom—was as mundane as the weather.
He disappeared into a dressing nook, leaving me in a state of paralyzed horror. A minute later, he stepped back into the light, fully dressed in dark trousers and that half-buttoned shirt, looking every bit the king of this dark temple.
"Are you going to keep hiding there, Phoenix?" He paused, his smirk widening into something predatory. "Or should I say… Charlène Laurent?"
The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp. My name. My full name. My identity was a buried secret, scrubbed from every database by Viktor's hackers. I had never told him. I hadn't told anyone in this city.
The shock was a physical weight, but the thought of Leo—my sweet, dying Leo—pushed me back to my feet. I couldn't afford to be stunned. I couldn't afford to feel. I stood up, the razor-sharp blade glinting in the low light, my hand trembling despite my training.
Lucien let out a low, melodic chuckle. It wasn't the sound of a man in danger; it was the sound of a man amused by a kitten's claws.
"Why are you laughing?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "I broke in. I have a knife. You should be calling your guards. You should be screaming."
"And miss the pleasure of your company?" he stepped closer, the scent of expensive sandalwood and sea salt filling my senses. "I don't think so."
I'm sorry, I whispered to the ghosts in my head. I'm sorry, Lucien.
I lunged.
Suddenly, the room plunged into total, suffocating darkness. I gasped, the world spinning as a powerful force slammed into me. I felt the soft give of the silk mattress beneath my back and the crushing, heavy heat of a body pinning me down.
Snap.
Lucien's fingers clicked in the air, and the lights flooded back to life. My breath hitched. He was on top of me, his hands pinning my wrists to the bed. But it wasn't the proximity that made my soul scream—it was his eyes.
They weren't hazel anymore. They were the color of a fresh kill—pure, glowing, blood-red.
I stopped breathing, staring into the abyss of that crimson gaze. My mind fractured. He's a monster. I'm dreaming. I've finally gone mad. I blinked, my heart stopping, and when my eyelids opened again, the red was gone. His eyes were hazel once more, calm and mocking.
"Lost your focus, Charlène?" he murmured.
I didn't answer. With a scream of pure desperation, I drove the knife upward. He didn't move. He didn't flinch. I felt the resistance of his shirt, then the sickeningly smooth slide of the blade entering his chest, right over his heart.
I sobbed, waiting for the blood. Waiting for the light to leave his eyes so I could go save my brother.
"Finally," I breathed, tears blurring my vision. "It's over."
But the weight didn't leave me. Lucien didn't gasp. He didn't fall. I watched, my eyes wide with a terror I had never known, as he looked down at the knife buried in his chest.
Slowly, he pulled himself back, allowing the blade to slide out of his flesh. There was a tear in the fabric, a smear of crimson—and then, right before my eyes, the skin knit together. The wound closed in a blur of moving tissue until his chest was as smooth and unmarked as marble.
The knife clattered to the floor from my nerveless fingers.
"What... what are you?" I choked out, shrinking back into the pillows.
Lucien leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice a dark caress. "I'm the man who is going to keep you, Phoenix. Whether you like it or not."