Chapter Two
"Wait!"
The sea of hooded figures turned—first to one another, then to the white-haired man.
"This execution is… premature," a hooded figure said, his voice low and steady.
Gasps rippled through the chamber as murmurs followed.
"You would dare challenge council law for… that?" someone demanded.
All eyes fell on Jules's trembling body—all except the hooded figure, who stared defiantly ahead at the council. The white-haired man leaned forward, his gaze piercing.
"She has a living family. You know the penalty."
The hooded figure nodded once.
"I do."
"Then you know what you're asking." The white-haired man's eyes narrowed.
The response came firm and immediate, confidence flooding every word.
"I'm asking for custody."
A sharp ringing filled Jules's ears, her vision fading in and out. She heard gasps, hushed mutters—then a whispered not dead.
Her words spilled out before she could stop them.
"I won't tell anyone anything, I swear!" she pleaded.
Lucian's head snapped toward her, shaking slowly in warning.
"Silence," he ordered.
Jules felt herself shrink inward. His voice frightened her more than the chains ever had.
The council leaned toward one another, faces tight with consideration. A long pause followed before the white-haired man spoke again.
"If she lives," he said carefully, "she lives in the shadows."
The snow-haired man began listing the conditions of her survival.
She is declared officially dead.
No feeding without permission.
No outside contact beyond the council and its members.
"Her blood becomes your responsibility, Lucian." His face was stone—unyielding, threatening.
Without hesitation, Lucian spoke.
"I accept."
The council erupted, several members arguing that the terms were ludicrous.
"Why?" the white-haired man asked sharply.
"Because, Alastor," Lucian replied evenly. "Killing her solves nothing. Training her does."
A pause.
"Fail us," Alastor warned, his voice cold, "and you will face the repercussions."
Lucian nodded once.
"Understood."
The men released her, and Jules collapsed to her knees. Before she could hit the floor, a hand seized her wrist, stopping her fall. His iron grip pulled her forward until she could hear his whisper—low and commanding.
"You don't speak unless I tell you to.
You don't run.
You don't look back."
Jules lifted her gaze to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.
Lucian hauled her to her feet and dragged her behind him. The shadows parted as they moved, revealing a doorway ahead. A bridge of candles lit the corridor beyond, their flames flickering against stone walls.
Jules stayed silent—not a word passed her lips.
When they reached the great, monolithic doors, Lucian shoved them open. A cavern of stone yawned before her. He grabbed a torch from the wall and led her into the damp tunnel beyond. Humidity clung to Jules's skin, her hair sticking to the back of her neck.
Lucian towered ahead of her, barely ducking beneath the archway, his hood still shadowing his face.
Jules struggled to keep her footing as loose pebbles skittered beneath her shoes.
Then they reached the tunnel's clearing—and her breath caught.