The cold rushed in first.
It slipped past Adeline's skin and settled into her bones, sharp and invasive, as if the darkness beyond the broken seal had exhaled just for her. The chamber's faint glow flickered, struggling to remain alive.
Lucien moved instantly.
He stepped in front of her, one arm extending—not touching, but close enough that she felt claimed by the space he guarded.
"Stay behind me," he said.
It wasn't a request.
Adeline should have bristled. She should have argued. But something inside her—older, quieter—recognized the truth in his command and obeyed without resistance.
The stone opening widened with a low groan.
From within came a sound that was not quite a footstep, not quite a whisper. It echoed strangely, as though the walls themselves were remembering it.
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"They shouldn't be awake yet," he muttered.
Adeline's heart pounded. "You keep saying they. I need to know who they are."
He didn't answer immediately. His attention was fixed on the darkness, eyes sharp, calculating. The sigils along his forearms faintly ignited, lines of power tracing his skin like living ink.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"Custodians," he said. "That's what they called themselves."
"Custodians of what?"
Lucien glanced at her then—just for a second—and the look in his eyes stole her breath.
"Truth," he said. "And punishment."
A shape moved within the opening.
Not fully formed. Not yet. But Adeline felt it before she saw it—a pressure in her chest, a tightening in her lungs, like the world itself had leaned closer to listen.
Her hand lifted instinctively.
Fire stirred beneath her skin.
Lucien noticed immediately.
"No," he said sharply, turning to her. "Not yet."
"I didn't—" she started, then stopped. "I can't stop it."
I know," he said, softer now. "That's what scares me."
The presence drew closer.
Adeline's vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, memories she didn't recognize flickered through her mind—cities burning beneath crimson skies, voices chanting her name, her own hands raised in judgment she did not remember delivering.
She staggered.
Lucien caught her this time, fingers closing around her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body—heat and gravity colliding.
The fire responded.
The sigils on the walls flared bright, answering the spark within her like loyal sentinels.
Lucien swore under his breath.
"They feel you," he said. "And they are not pleased."
"Lucien," Adeline whispered, gripping his sleeve. "What am I to them?"
His grip tightened.
"A threat," he said. "Or a sentence."
The figure in the doorway finally stepped into the light.
It wore the shape of a man, but nothing about it felt human. Its eyes burned with a pale, unwavering glow, and its voice—when it spoke—was layered, as though many throats spoke at once.
"She awakens."
The words struck Adeline like a verdict
Lucien shifted forward, power rolling off him in controlled waves. "She is under my protection."
The entity tilted its head.
"Protector," it echoed. "Or accomplice?"
The fire inside Adeline surged violently, reacting to the word.
Her breath hitched.
"I didn't ask for this," she said, forcing the words past her fear. "Whatever you think I am—I didn't choose it."
The entity's gaze snapped to her.
"No," it said. "But you will finish it."
Lucien stepped closer to her again, his presence grounding, solid. "You will not touch her."
The air vibrated.
"Your oath binds you still," the Custodian said. "Even now."
Lucien went still.
Adeline felt it—the sudden shift, the weight of something unspoken dropping between them.
"What oath?" she asked quietly.
Lucien did not look at her.
The Custodian smiled.
"The one that ties his fate to hers," it said. "The one sworn in ash and blood."
Adeline's heart slammed against her ribs.
"Lucien," she whispered. "What did you do?"
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Lucien finally turned to her, and in his eyes was something she had never seen before—not command, not restraint—
Regret.
"I swore," he said slowly, "that if you ever returned… I would be the one to either protect you."
His voice dropped.
"Or end you."
The chamber shook violently.
The Custodian stepped forward, its gaze locking onto Adeline.
"The flame has chosen," it said. "The judgment approaches."
Adeline's fire roared to life.
And for the first time, she realized the most dangerous truth of all—
Whatever she was becoming, Lucien had known all along.