Lucien stepped from out of the shadows, his figure emerging silently, like something born of the darkness itself. The room was still dark, the soft, steady breathing of Ashar and Riven filling the air, their forms sprawled across the bed. Mae, nestled between them, remained unaware, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, untouched by the disturbance that was now growing in intensity. Not for long. The sound, a scraping, low and unnatural, brought a shiver down his spine. It was a noise that didn't belong, an ancient echo from deep within the earth. The very walls of the room seemed to hum with it, vibrating with a force that was far too old to be ignored.
Lucien took another step, his body moving in a fluid, controlled motion, despite the tightness that gripped his chest. The pulse of the earth beneath him trembled in his veins. This was no simple quake, no fleeting disturbance. This was something far worse. He had heard this before. In fragments of whispers. In dreams that felt more like memories. But never like this. Never so close. The hum, a call. An invitation, a warning, a reminder that things long buried were never meant to rise again.
Lucien's fingers curled, the tips of his gloves flexing as if preparing to tear into the fabric of reality itself. The sound grew louder, the ground beneath him trembling as if the earth itself were waking. Something long dormant, imprisoned beneath the surface, was pushing toward the surface. The noise was a pulse, sharp, invasive, and alive. It grew louder, reverberating through the room, but to Mae, it was different. The sound sliced through her dreams, stirring something deep inside her. A flicker of fear.
Her eyes fluttered open, the warmth of Ashar's body beside her not enough to keep her grounded. The hum vibrated within her, shaking her very core, her heart matching its rhythm as if it, too, were caught in its grip. She gasped, sitting up abruptly, the sudden rush of panic suffocating her. Her eyes darted to the room, but nothing had changed, everything was still, the world just as it should be. But the hum, the hum was real. It was alive. It wasn't like the fracturing energy she had felt before. This was something different. Something much more ancient, more dangerous. Lucien's presence was the only other thing she could sense, even in the depths of the growing noise. He stood across the room, his figure a shadow in the dark, his eyes locked on her.
"Lucien?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound that filled her mind. "Do you hear that?" He didn't respond at first, his gaze steady and unreadable, as though he were waiting for the moment to pass. His lips barely parted, a trace of something darker in his eyes, a knowing. "Yes," Lucien replied, his voice low and calm, as though the world itself had just shifted, and he was the only one aware of it. "You are not alone in this." The words lingered in the air, unsettling, as though they carried a weight only Mae could feel. The hum seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heartbeat, filling her with an inexplicable sense of dread.
For a moment, it was just the two of them, the hum vibrating between them, the dark room closing in around them. Lucien's presence, always steady, always commanding, was contrast to the sudden chaos inside her. Mae could feel it in her bones. Whatever this was, it wasn't just a passing sound. It was the beginning of something.
Mae didn't wait for the others. She couldn't. The noise was too overwhelming, too alive for her to ignore. Her pulse was still racing, the air heavy with something more than fear. Lucien was already moving before she even asked, stepping toward her with that same unnerving calm, as if he had been expecting this.
"Come with me," Mae whispered, more to herself than to him. Lucien didn't hesitate. His steps were quiet as he moved toward her, his figure cutting through the darkness like a shadow. Without a word, he extended his hand, his gloved fingers barely brushing against hers as he led her toward the door.
There was no light outside, just the dim flicker of a dying moon and the oppressive weight of the air pressing against them. The world beyond the safety of the house was still, yet alive with something far more ancient, far more dangerous. The hum grew louder as they stepped out into the night, the air crackling around them like static.
Lucien's eyes never left Mae's face. His presence was like a constant weight beside her, a force that seemed to draw the world into sharp focus. He wasn't like the others-there was a darkness to him, a depth of emotion that Mae hadn't fully allowed herself to acknowledge. But in this moment, it felt impossible to ignore.
"Do you feel it?" Mae asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't sure if she was asking Lucien or herself. The sound had stopped now, replaced by an oppressive silence that rang in her ears, making the quiet seem all the more deafening.
Lucien nodded, his gaze narrowing as he looked around them. "Yes. But it's not just noise." His voice was softer now, more reflective, as though he were speaking more to himself than to her. "It's something else. Something that shouldn't be here."
Mae could feel the distance between them, even as they stood close. There was a tension, a magnetic pull that neither of them seemed able, or willing to resist. Her breath caught in her throat as Lucien's eyes flicked down to her lips, then back to her eyes. The moment stretched between them, the space filled with something neither of them could name.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to fade away. There was only them, the night, and the strange hum still echoing somewhere deep beneath the earth.
Mae took a slow step forward, her body drawn toward him, but she stopped herself. Lucien's gaze softened, just slightly, as if he understood. The air around them hummed, almost like a living thing, and yet, the connection between them, intimate and charged with silent understanding, felt even more dangerous than anything that had come before.
"You should go back," Lucien said, his voice quiet but firm. But Mae didn't move. Not yet. She stood there, the strange pulse still vibrating in her chest, torn between the fear of the unknown and the pull toward Lucien, toward this strange, dark connection that seemed to tie them together.
For a moment, the hum grew louder again, an answer she could feel in her bones, and Lucien's hand, so close to hers, remained perfectly still.
Lucien didn't break his gaze from Mae. He felt it too. The shift, the way the world around them was warping, bending, almost folding in on itself. Something was happening. Something that was going to change everything.
And yet, in the midst of the chaos, there was a stillness between them. Mae was so close now, her breath mingling with his, her eyes locked onto his. The magnetic pull between them was undeniable, a tension that hummed louder than the ominous sound. He could feel her heart racing, feel her uncertainty in the tremble of her hand as it hovered near his.
For a moment, the world felt like it was falling away. There was only the two of them. Nothing else mattered.
Lucien stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his presence overwhelming, dark, and electric. His gloved hand reached out, brushing against hers with a tenderness that felt so out of place in this moment of impending destruction. The hum of the earth pulsed beneath them, louder now, a constant reminder that they couldn't linger here forever.
Mae's breath hitched as his lips parted, his intent clear, and for a fleeting second, she thought he might kiss her. She could feel the weight of his desire, the intensity of the emotions swirling within him-his need to claim, to possess, to pull her closer.
But the earth itself had other plans.
A low rumble, deeper than the hum, shattered the moment, rattling the ground beneath their feet. Mae's eyes snapped open, panic flooding her senses as the air around them thickened. Something was coming. Something worse than the tremors. The hum was no longer just a vibration, it was a calling, pulling at the very fabric of reality.
Lucien's hand, still close to hers, froze. His eyes hardened, a dangerous edge entering his gaze as he looked around.
"Not yet," he murmured, his voice low, filled with a tension that made the air crackle. "It's not just the hum."
Mae looked up at him, confusion and fear swirling in her chest, but before she could ask him what he meant, the ground beneath them shifted violently. The silence that followed the sound was deafening, broken only by a harsh crack from the distance.
A shape moved in the shadows. Dark, shifting, like a presence that had always been there, unseen, but no longer hiding. It was them, the Unseen, creatures of shadow and forgotten power, slipping between cracks in reality like ghosts.
Lucien's fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her back toward the shelter of the house, his body pressing close to hers. "We have to go. Now."
Mae's heart raced in her chest, not just from fear, but from something else. The connection between them. It was stronger now, undeniable. But this wasn't the time. Not when the Unseen were waking.
And yet, as she let Lucien guide her back, her mind couldn't shake the feeling, the pulse still thrumming in her veins, stronger than before. The war between the forgotten gods and the world was only just beginning.