Later that night, Ava couldn't sleep. The encounter with Aurora had stirred something deep inside her—a nagging sense that she had once known more than she remembered.
Lucien noticed immediately. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her with a quiet intensity.
"You're thinking too hard," he said softly.
"I feel… like something is trying to come back," she admitted. "I remember fragments. Faces, voices… moments I can't place."
Lucien moved closer, hand lightly brushing her arm. The simple contact sent shivers through her. "Memory is tricky," he murmured. "It resurfaces when it's ready. Pushing too hard can be dangerous."
Ava's eyes softened. "I just… I want to understand why this is happening to me. Why they erased me. Why you're protecting me."
Lucien leaned closer, enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath. "Because no one else would protect you the way I do," he said, his voice low and magnetic.
Ava's chest tightened. She wanted to lean into him, to let herself be engulfed by his presence. Her heart raced in a way that made her dizzy.
"Lucien…" she whispered.
"I know," he said, almost in a whisper, "and it's dangerous."
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. The simple act made her knees weak.
And just before sleep claimed her, she felt a fragment of memory return—a glimpse of a man in a dark suit, speaking to her in hushed tones, a warning she couldn't yet understand.