Chapter Two
Aria woke up gasping.
The dream did not fade.
It clung.
Fire licking at marble pillars.
A throne carved from bone and obsidian.
A crown heavy in her hands.
And Lucien standing behind her.
Not touching.
But close enough that she could feel the weight of him at her back.
Watching.
Guarding.
Claiming.
Her eyes snapped open.
The pale morning ceiling of her apartment replaced the throne room slowly, like reality was reluctant to return.
Traffic hummed outside.
A vendor called from the street below.
A motorcycle roared past.
Normal.
Her pulse wasn't.
She pushed herself upright.
That was when she felt it.
Heat.
Sharp. Focused.
At her collarbone.
Her fingers rose instinctively. The moment she touched the spot, pain flared — not unbearable, but precise.
Intentional.
She stumbled into the bathroom.
The mirror did not lie.
Just beneath her left collarbone, faint and almost translucent, was a mark.
Intertwined lines forming something almost crown-like.
But fractured.
As if once whole.
As if something had cracked it from within.
It pulsed faintly.
Then dimmed.
Aria stared at her reflection.
"No," she whispered.
This was stress. Lack of sleep. Hallucination.
She touched it again.
It was warm.
Alive.
She grabbed her phone with shaking hands.
Search.
Virelli Global building plans.
Virelli Global 66th floor.
Hidden levels in Virelli Global.
Virelli Global renovation archives.
Every article.
Every blueprint reference.
Every corporate profile.
Sixty floors.
Sixty.
She checked three different sources.
Still sixty.
Her reflection looked pale now.
"You imagined it," she told herself.
The mark burned in response.
Virelli Global looked exactly the same.
Glass.
Steel.
Power.
Employees moved with quiet efficiency across the marble lobby. Phones rang. Laptops clicked. The scent of expensive coffee drifted through the air.
Everything was precise.
Structured.
Controlled.
Just like its CEO.
The security guard nodded at her.
The receptionist smiled.
No one acted like there was a sixty-sixth floor hidden in the building.
No one acted like shadows had breathed.
She stepped into the elevator.
Her throat tightened.
Lobby to Executive.
The numbers climbed normally.
No flicker.
No glitch.
No 66.
The doors opened.
The executive floor stretched before her — sleek and immaculate.
Lucien's office doors were already open.
He stood at the window overlooking the city.
Hands clasped behind his back.
Posture perfect.
Suit immaculate.
Human.
"Good morning, Miss Morgan."
His voice was smooth. Calm. Controlled.
As if he had not stood in a corridor of living darkness the night before.
"Good morning, sir."
She stepped inside.
The second she crossed the threshold—
The mark ignited.
Her breath caught sharply.
The pain wasn't subtle this time.
It flared.
Hungry.
Lucien's shoulders went rigid.
Almost imperceptibly.
He turned.
Slowly.
Their eyes met.
Awareness moved between them like a current.
His gaze dropped to her collarbone.
Then back to her face.
"It appeared," he said quietly.
Her heart skipped.
"You knew it would?"
"Yes."
She hated how calm he sounded.
"What is it?" she demanded.
He approached her this time like a man, not a shadow.
Measured steps.
Deliberate.
The closer he came, the hotter the mark burned.
But beneath the heat—
There was something else.
Recognition.
He stopped inches away.
His presence pressed against her senses.
Dominant.
Controlled.
His hand lifted.
Paused.
"May I?"
The fact that he asked unsettled her more than if he hadn't.
She nodded once.
His fingers brushed the edge of the mark.
The pain vanished instantly.
Replaced by warmth.
Not cold.
Not fire.
Something steady.
Her breath left her slowly.
"It is part of the seal," he said.
"And the seal is…?"
"The reason you were allowed to live as human."
Her pulse stumbled.
"Allowed?"
His eyes darkened slightly.
"You were not meant to be powerless, Aria."
The way he said her name sent a subtle tremor through her.
Not Miss Morgan.
Aria.
"And what happens when I fully 'awaken'?" she asked.
His jaw tightened.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you choose control."
"And if I don't?"
His gaze sharpened.
"Then the world will adjust around you."
That was not reassuring.
Her phone buzzed.
The sound cut through the tension like a blade.
She glanced down.
Unknown number.
One message.
Remember.
Her stomach dropped.
She didn't need clarification.
"Kael," she whispered.
Lucien's expression cooled instantly.
"You will not respond."
"You don't get to decide that."
"No," he agreed evenly.
"But I do decide who remains alive long enough to send a second message."
Her breath caught.
"That's a threat."
"It's a promise."
His composure never cracked.
That terrified her more than anger would have.
"You're jealous," she said softly.
His gaze sharpened.
"I am protective."
"That isn't the same thing."
"For me, it is."
He stepped closer.
Close enough that she felt the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her blouse.
The mark pulsed.
Not painfully.
Hungrily.
His eyes flickered downward again.
"This connection is not random," he murmured.
"Then explain it."
"I will."
"When?"
"When you are strong enough to hear it without breaking."
Anger flared.
"I am not fragile."
"No," he agreed quietly.
"You are not."
That almost sounded like admiration.
A knock interrupted them.
Lucien stepped back instantly.
The air cooled.
Professional distance returned.
"Enter."
The board meeting that followed felt surreal.
Aria took notes.
Lucien spoke about mergers, projections, expansion into new markets.
Power.
Control.
Dominance.
He commanded the room effortlessly.
Men twice his age deferred without hesitation.
Billionaires listened.
Board members avoided his eyes when he disagreed.
He did not raise his voice.
He did not need to.
And through it all—
The mark pulsed.
Slowly.
As if reacting to his authority.
At one point, his gaze flicked toward her.
Just for a second.
The pulse intensified.
Possessive.
As if it recognized him as something more than her employer.
When the meeting ended, the board members filtered out quickly.
Leaving them alone again.
Lucien loosened his cufflinks slowly.
"You will move to the executive wing."
Her head snapped up.
"What?"
"You will no longer work on the lower floor."
"I didn't ask for a promotion."
"This is not optional."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You don't own me."
His gaze darkened.
"I am aware."
The slight pause before he spoke again carried weight.
"But others will try."
Her pulse skipped.
"This is about Kael."
"This is about protecting an asset of considerable importance."
"Asset?" she repeated coldly.
His expression shifted.
Almost imperceptibly.
"That was poorly phrased."
"Yes. It was."
Silence stretched.
Then he said, quieter—
"You are not an asset."
"Then what am I?"
His eyes held hers.
"Danger."
Her breath faltered.
"To who?"
"That remains to be seen."
That night, the dream returned.
Stronger.
She stood in the throne room again.
This time the crown did not rest in her hands.
It hovered.
Suspended above her head.
Lucien stood behind her.
Kael stood before her.
Kneeling.
"Choose," Kael said.
Lucien did not speak.
He did not need to.
She could feel his will like a steady force at her back.
Not pushing.
But ready.
The mark on her chest burned brilliantly.
The fracture in the symbol widened.
Cracks of light spilled outward.
The throne room trembled.
She woke with a sharp inhale.
Her bedroom was dark.
But she was not alone.
A presence lingered.
Watching.
She sat up slowly.
"Lucien," she said into the darkness.
Silence.
Then—
"You should not invite him so easily."
Kael's voice.
Smooth.
Close.
She turned.
He leaned casually against her bedroom wall, silver hair catching the faint city glow through the curtains.
Her pulse thundered.
"How are you here?"
"You are not sealed as tightly as before."
Her hand moved instinctively to her collarbone.
The mark was glowing faintly.
"You are not safe around him," Kael said softly.
"And I am safe around you?"
His smile deepened.
"No."
Honesty.
Unexpected.
"He fears what you are becoming," Kael continued.
"And you don't?"
"I look forward to it."
Before she could respond, the air shifted.
Temperature dropped.
Shadows deepened.
Lucien appeared between them.
Not subtle.
Not restrained.
His eyes were fully red.
"You overstep," Lucien said calmly.
Kael straightened.
"You hide the truth."
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"This is not your domain."
Kael's golden eyes flicked to Aria.
"Not yet."
The mark flared violently.
Power surged through her veins.
The lights shattered.
Glass exploded outward.
Both men turned toward her at the same time.
Silence fell.
The air bent.
The shadows—
Bowed.
Lucien's expression changed.
Not dominance.
Not control.
Something else.
Recognition.
Kael smiled slowly.
"There she is."
Aria stared at her hands.
They were glowing faintly.
Heat radiated from her skin.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered.
Lucien stepped forward carefully.
As if approaching something sacred.
"You are remembering."
Kael's voice drifted from the side.
"And when she remembers everything?"
Lucien's eyes never left hers.
"Then the throne will no longer be empty."
The mark split further.
Light spilled between the fractured lines.
And somewhere deep within her—
Something ancient opened its eyes