Chapter 3 – The Stranger Returns
Two nights later, she saw him again.
It was late, the streets empty, the lamps sputtering as though the fog itself was swallowing their flame. Aria carried her basket of herbs close, heading back to the healer's hut.
Then she felt it—that prickle at the back of her neck. The sense of being watched.
Her steps quickened. She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing but mist and shadows.
And then, as she turned a corner, he was there.
Lucian.
No longer bleeding, no longer broken. He stood tall, his black coat flowing like spilled ink, his presence filling the alley as though he were part of the night itself.
Her breath caught in her throat. She nearly dropped her basket.
"You shouldn't be out so late," he said, voice soft yet commanding.
Aria swallowed hard. "You're one to talk."
For the faintest second, something like amusement flickered across his face. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
"You helped me when you shouldn't have," he said. His eyes caught the lantern glow, scarlet burning in the shadows. "That was foolish."
"And yet… you're alive," she answered, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice.
A pause stretched between them, heavy, electric.
Then he stepped closer. The air grew colder, the fog thickening around him. Aria's heart pounded. She told herself to step back, to run, to scream—but her feet refused to move.
Lucian leaned closer, just enough that she felt the brush of his breath. "You're different," he murmured. "Most mortals would have left me to die. Why didn't you?"
Aria's throat tightened. The truth slipped out before she could think.
"Because… you looked lonely."
For a moment, his expression cracked. His gaze softened, a storm of emotions flashing behind those crimson eyes—pain, hunger, longing.
Then he stepped back, his voice sharp again. "Stay away from me, Aria."
And before she could ask how he knew her name, he vanished into the mist.