Chapter 7

• Lucien
• The rune should have vanished from his mind the moment he stopped looking at her skin, but it hadn’t.
• Even hours later, Lucien still saw it every time he blinked… the black mark that didn’t belong on the living.
• Death-bound.
• He had seen it only once before.
• And that body had never breathed again.
• The beast inside him was restless, shifting beneath his ribs like it wanted to tear out, but not in rage. In unease, his beast feared her.
• Lucien did not fear many things.
• Which was why, when the council gathered that morning, he spoke nothing of the mark. Not yet.
• Voices echoed through the halls, guards clashed in training yards, and council envoys muttering in corners. Rhea had been left in her chamber, with a guard posted at the door.
• He wasn’t ready to parade her in front of the council. Not when his own certainty was cracking.
• Reid’s voice cut through his thoughts.
• “You are distracted.”
• Lucien lifted his eyes from the map table. “I am considering the next steps.”
• Reid folded his arms. “Next steps for the pack, or next steps for her?”
• Lucien’s jaw tightened. “Both.”
• Reid’s gaze sharpened. “You saw something last night, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t. You had that look. The same one you had after the Blackridge war.”
• Lucien’s hand pressed against the table edge until the wood creaked.
• “You want the truth?” he said. “I don’t know what she is. Every rune in this fortress should reject her. Instead, they open for her like she was carved from the same stone.”
• Reid swore under his breath. “That is not possible. Unless…”
• “Unless,” Lucien cut him off, “she is not what she looks like.”
• The two men stood in silence for a moment, with things neither wanted to say.
• Then Reid asked quietly, “Do you trust her?”
• Lucien thought of the way she had looked at him on the balcony. Her eyes steady, her voice fragile…. She is not dead, Lucien.
• His reply was just as quiet. “I don’t know.”
• Later that day, Lucien returned to the upper chamber. The guards opened the door without a word.
• Rhea was sitting by the window, legs tucked beneath her, staring at the snow covered cliffs beyond. She didn’t look back when he entered.
• “You are avoiding me,” she murmured.
• “I left you here so the council wouldn’t tear you apart,” Lucien replied.
• “Or so you could think,” she said softly.
• He moved closer, stopping just a few feet from her. “Show me your hand.”
• Her fingers tightened in her lap. “Why?”
• “Because I saw what was there, and I need to know if it is still with you.”
• At last, she lifted her palm. It was bare. No cracks of black, no glow. Only pale skin.
• Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You can control it?”
• “I didn't control it,” she whispered. “It controls me. It shows itself when it wants.”
• He crouched in front of her chair, his scarred collarbone burning faintly as if the curse inside him had been waiting for this moment. “That mark doesn’t belong on the living. Where did you get it?”
• Her gaze flickered to his, then away. “I don’t remember. Only… that I wasn’t alone when it appeared.”
• Lucien froze. “Not alone?”
• “There was someone else,” she said slowly. “A girl. She looked like me. Paler, thinner… her throat was scarred. When the mark burned onto my palm, I saw her.”
• Lucien’s chest tightened. “Your twin.”
• Rhea nodded once.
• The beast inside him snarled in warning.
• That night, Nyla stormed into his study. His sister’s eyes burned as she slammed the door shut.
• “You are keeping her here? After what Reid told me?”
• Lucien’s voice was calm. “Would you rather I cast her out into the snow? Let our enemies find her first?”
• Nyla stepped closer, jabbing a finger at his chest. “She is a danger, Lucien. The wolves whisper already. The council sharpens their eyes. And you… you stand there pretending this is under control when we both know your curse listens to her.”
• Lucien didn’t move. “My curse has been listening to me for seven years. It hasn’t killed you. It hasn’t destroyed the pack.”
• “Yet,” Nyla shot back.
• He let the silence settle between them before he said, “If she is what I think she is, then she is more than a danger. She is an answer.”
• Nyla’s voice dropped. “Or she is the end of us.”
• Lucien didn’t argue. Because the truth was, he didn’t know which it would be.
• Later, unable to rest, he went to the library again. The old journals were there. He searched through them until the candles burned low.
• One line in faded ink caught his eye;
• Subject 04— twin sequence incomplete. One marked, one dormant. The project failed and was ordered to be sealed.
• 04.
• The same number on the collar tag he had found in the locked case.
• East-L-04.
• Rhea.
• He dragged a hand across his face. If she was Subject 04, then her twin had been the marked one. Which meant…
• “Lucien.”
• Her voice came from the doorway.
• He turned sharply. She stood in the darkness, bare-footed, her hair falling loose around her shoulders.
• “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
• Her eyes flickered over the books scattered across the table. “You are reading about me.”
• “About what you might be,” he corrected.
• “Then ask me,” she whispered. “Don’t hide behind ink and paper.”
• Lucien pushed away from the table, stepping closer. “Then tell me. Who left you behind?”
• She inhaled sharply, her hands curling at her sides. “I don’t know, but… I feel her. Every time I close my eyes. Like she is calling me.”
• Lucien’s voice hardened. “Your twin?”
• She nodded
• He stared at her, the weight of old wars pressing against his chest. If Selene Vale still lived—no, not lived—survived—then the Shadeborn had already reached her.
• And if that was true, then Rhea was more than a lost girl.
• She was a key.
• And keys always opened something.
• That same night, far beyond the fortress walls, a wolf ran through the snow. Its body was twisted, its eyes black.
• In the clearing, it fell to its knees as if bowing to something unseen.
• A voice slid through the cold night.
• “Find the girl. Bring me the twin that breathes.”
• The wolf rose again. Its flesh split, revealing runes burned into its bones. It howled toward the Nightshade cliffs.
• And somewhere deep in the fortress, Lucien woke from half sleep, the curse in his blood clawing against his ribs.
• Something was coming.
• And it was coming for her.