Night pressed against the windows like something alive.
Lucien stood near the glass, staring out into darkness that felt deeper than it should have been. The city lights below flickered, distant and insignificant. Everything seemed sharper tonight too sharp. He could hear footsteps from floors below, the ticking of pipes behind the walls, even the faint rhythm of Evelyn's breathing behind him.
It was overwhelming.
It was intoxicating.
It was terrifying.
He clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands.
They didn't feel like his anymore.
"Lucien?"
Her voice cut through the noise.
He turned. Evelyn stood near the doorway, arms folded lightly, studying him. Concern lingered in her eyes, but she tried to hide it behind calm composure.
"You've been quiet," she said. "Even for you."
"I'm thinking."
"That usually means something's wrong."
He exhaled slowly.
"Everything feels wrong."
She stepped closer. Not rushed. Careful. Like approaching something wounded.
"Talk to me."
Lucien hesitated. He didn't like admitting weakness not even to himself but something about her presence loosened the knot in his chest.
"I can hear things," he said quietly.
"Things I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things. Feel…" He flexed his fingers. "…strength I don't understand."
Evelyn didn't interrupt.
"I touched the table earlier," he continued, voice low. "Nearly cracked it."
Her brows lifted slightly.
"And that didn't bother you enough to mention?"
"I didn't want to sound insane."
She gave a faint smile.
"After everything we've seen? That ship sailed."
Despite himself, he let out a short breath that almost resembled a laugh.
Silence fell between them softer this time.
Evelyn moved beside him, resting her shoulder lightly against the wall. Close enough that he could feel her warmth.
"You're changing," she said gently.
"But you're still you."
Lucien glanced at her.
"You don't know that."
"I do."
Her certainty unsettled him more than doubt would have.
He looked away.
"You shouldn't trust me that easily."
"And you shouldn't push everyone away."
Their eyes met tension tightening in the air between them.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Lucien became painfully aware of how close she stood. The steady beat of her heart reached his ears like a drum beneath silence. Warmth radiated from her skin. Alive. Bright.
His senses locked onto it.
His focus narrowed.
His breathing shifted.
Evelyn noticed.
"…Lucien?"
He stepped back abruptly.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I said I'm fine."
His tone came sharper than intended. She flinched slightly not in fear, but surprise.
Regret hit immediately.
"…Sorry," he muttered.
She studied him, softer now.
"What just happened?"
He struggled for words.
"I don't know. I just"
He stopped.
The scent.
The pulse.
It flooded him again, stronger this time.
His grip tightened around the back of a nearby chair.
Crack.
Wood splintered under his fingers.
They both froze.
Lucien stared at what he'd done.
"…I didn't mean"
His voice faltered.
Evelyn stepped forward cautiously.
"Lucien…"
"Don't."
The word came low.
Warning.
He wasn't looking at her he was looking at his hands like they belonged to someone else.
"I could hurt you."
Her answer came immediately.
"You won't."
"You don't know that!"
His voice rose not angry frightened.
The room felt smaller. The sounds louder. The hunger sharper.
He backed away again.
"Stay there."
Evelyn shook her head slowly.
"I'm not leaving you alone in this."
Before he could react, she closed the distance and gently placed her hand over his.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding.
Lucien stiffened.
"Evelyn…"
"Breathe," she said softly.
"Just breathe."
His instincts screamed.
His senses burned.
His strength coiled tight beneath his skin.
But her touch didn't feel like prey.
It felt like anchor.
His breathing slowed.
Gradually.
Painfully.
The tension eased.
The hunger receded into the shadows where it belonged.
Minutes passed before he finally spoke.
"…You shouldn't do that."
She tilted her head.
"Why?"
"You trust me too much."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"And you doubt yourself too much."
He studied her really studied her and something shifted inside him.
Not hunger.
Not fear.
Something quieter. Warmer.
Dangerous in a different way.
"…Thank you," he said quietly.
She squeezed his hand once before letting go.
"Get used to it."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
A sudden chill swept through the room.
Both of them felt it.
Lucien's head snapped toward the window.
"What is it?" Evelyn asked.
He narrowed his eyes.
"…I don't know."
But his instincts were alert again.
Not chaotic this time.
Focused.
Controlled barely.
He moved toward the glass slowly.
Something out there watched.
He couldn't see it.
Yet he felt it.
Evelyn joined him.
"You sense it too?"
He nodded.
A long silence passed.
Then
"It's coming," he murmured.
"What is?"
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"…I think we're about to find out."