The night had teeth.
Adeline stood at the edge of the courtyard, the cold wind tugging at her hair, whispering secrets she couldn't yet understand. The sky was an inky canvas, dotted with stars, though none of them felt familiar. She pressed her fingers against the mark on her wrist, and a faint warmth pulsed beneath her skin. It was subtle, almost teasing—but it made her heart stutter, as if something unseen had a heartbeat of its own.
Earlier, when the flames had erupted from her, she had felt them bending, curling, alive. They had answered something deep inside her—anger, fear, desperation. But as the fire faded, a lingering echo remained, one that she could not shake.
A shadow detached itself from the darkness near the fountain. Lucien.
He moved without sound, as though the stones themselves bowed under his feet. His long coat fluttered with the wind, but his presence was undeniable—commanding and consuming. Adeline felt a familiar shiver travel down her spine. The storm he carried was always there, and yet tonight it seemed tempered by… something softer.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, his voice low, steady.
"I could say the same to you," she replied, forcing defiance into her tone. But even as the words left her lips, her fingers curled instinctively around her wrist.
Lucien's dark eyes flicked briefly to the mark. A shadow crossed his sharp features—concern, worry, perhaps even fear. "The flames… they weren't just an outburst," he said quietly. "They were a message."
Adeline's stomach tightened. "A message from…?"
"The Unseen," he whispered, and the words were like a cold wind against her skin.
Adeline's breath caught. The legends, the warnings, the stories she had once dismissed as nothing but fairy tales—they were real. They were here. Watching. Waiting.
"They wait," Lucien continued, his voice almost reverent. "And they respond only to what matters."
"Which is… me?" Her voice barely carried above the wind.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking until the heat from his presence brushed against her. "Yes. You," he admitted finally. "But it is not you alone. And it is not mercy they bring."
Adeline's pulse quickened, not from fear alone, but from the weight of being seen so completely. "Then why me? I don't—"
"You don't understand yet," Lucien interrupted, but there was no anger in his tone—only intensity. "You will. Soon enough."
Her chest tightened. The mark on her wrist flared, faintly at first, then stronger, as if in warning. Adeline drew back slightly, feeling the pull of power she could neither control nor deny.
Lucien studied her with an expression she had never seen before. It was impossible to read, a mixture of pride, fear, and… something softer. His hand moved almost imperceptibly, stopping just short of touching her wrist. The space between them seemed to hum.
"You cannot face this alone," he said. "And I cannot protect you forever."
Adeline swallowed hard. Her chest felt tight with emotions she could not untangle—fear, frustration, longing. "I don't want your protection," she whispered, but the truth of it twisted in her stomach. "I want… answers."
Lucien's gaze softened, lingering on her face in a way that made her pulse jump. "Answers come with risk," he said. "And some truths are meant to hurt."
Her voice dropped. "Then tell me anyway."
Lucien stepped closer, close enough that the heat from his body brushed against hers, and for a heartbeat, the world fell away. Adeline felt the magnetic pull between them, the tension that had always simmered beneath his cold exterior. He was dominating, infuriating, impossibly commanding—and yet, now, he seemed fragile in a way that made her ache.
"I'll tell you everything," he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. "But not tonight. Not yet."
Her heart stuttered, and she wanted to argue, to demand, to protest. But she didn't. Because in the silence that followed, she realized she trusted him. More than she had ever trusted anyone.
Lucien pulled back slightly, his hand lingering in the air between them, as if he wanted to touch her and feared it at once.
"Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow, we plan. But remember this—the flames you awakened tonight were only the beginning."
A gust of wind carried the faint scent of smoke, curling around them like a warning. Adeline's mark pulsed again, almost violently now, and a shiver ran through her.
"And…" Lucien's voice dropped to a whisper, sending a shiver down her spine. "…the Unseen will not wait forever."
He turned, retreating into the shadows as silently as he had appeared. Adeline was left alone, her breath ragged, her heart pounding.
The courtyard was empty, but the echo of the night lingered, and in the stillness, she heard it—a voice she could not place, yet it called to her.
She is ours now.
Adeline pressed her hands against her face, trying to ground herself, to fight the tremor that ran through her body. The fire was not gone—it had changed, moved, and now, it was hungry.
And somewhere, deep in the unseen, Lucien's warning reverberated: the game had only begun.