Chapter 6 – The Touch of Fire
That night, she went to him.
She didn't know why—whether it was defiance against Jonah's suspicion, fear of what the hunters might do, or a reckless need to see Lucian once more. All she knew was that her feet carried her to the ruined church where she had first found him bleeding in the shadows.
The fog wrapped the broken stones, the moon casting its pale light through shattered windows.
And there he was.
Lucian stood at the altar, silent, his face lifted toward the moonlight. He looked like a statue carved from the night itself, still and sorrowful, yet impossibly beautiful.
"You shouldn't have come," he said without turning.
"Then why are you here?" Aria asked softly.
He finally looked at her, and for the first time, his eyes were not only crimson—they were conflicted, stormy, almost human.
"You're not afraid of me," he said, stepping closer.
"I should be," she whispered.
"Yes." His voice was low, dangerous. "You should run, Aria. I could end your life in a heartbeat."
Instead, she lifted her chin. "Then why don't you?"
He stopped, so close she could feel the cold radiating from him, the air sharp with the scent of iron and ash. His hand rose, hesitated, then touched her cheek with the lightest brush of his fingers.
It was cold—yet it burned.
Aria shivered, not from fear but from something far more dangerous. Her lips parted, her breath catching as his touch lingered.
"You're fire," Lucian murmured. "And I've lived too long in the dark."
Her heart thundered. She should push him away, but instead she leaned into his touch. For a fleeting, forbidden moment, the world narrowed to just this—his hand against her skin, his gaze burning into hers.
Then, abruptly, he stepped back, his voice ragged.
"If I stay, I'll destroy you."
"Then destroy me," she whispered before she could stop herself.
Lucian's eyes blazed, his jaw tight. And then he was gone, vanishing into the night, leaving her trembling in the ruins with the taste of fire still on her skin.