Lucian's office was silent except for the ticking of the old brass clock on his desk. The sound cut through the air, steady and merciless, as if it marked the rhythm of their fear.
"Come out," Lucian repeated, his voice calm, his smile measured.
Kael's body tensed. Beside him, Riven was still as stone, his hand firm on Kael's wrist. Jordan shifted uneasily in the shadows.
They planned to stay hidden and pray he left. But something in Lucian's tone said he already knew.
Riven's jaw clenched. He stepped out first, shoulders squared, his expression sharp as a blade. Kael followed, reluctantly, heart hammering. Jordan came last, pale and trembling.
Lucian regarded them without surprise, as though their presence had been expected. His eyes flicked briefly to the shelves, then to the faint disturbance on the desk where the book had been.
"Curiosity," he said lightly, almost as if praising a child. "It is always the first mistake."
Kael swallowed hard. "What is this?" His voice came out harsher than he intended. "Why do you have our names written in that book?"
Lucian tilted his head. "Ah. Straight to the heart of the matter." He clasped his hands behind his back and stepped slowly around the desk, every movement unhurried. "Tell me, Kael—did you expect me to deny it?"
Kael faltered.
Riven narrowed his eyes. "Then you admit it. You've been watching us. Studying us."
Lucian's smile widened by a fraction. "Studying… yes. Watching? Not always. You mistake me for a stalker. I am, if anything, an archivist."
"Archivist?" Jordan's voice cracked, disbelief dripping from the word. "You're keeping a scrapbook of our lives. That's not archiving, that's obsession."
Lucian's gaze flicked to him. "Obsession is such a pedestrian word. What I hold are fragments of a cycle older than this university, older than you, older than me. Knowledge so delicate it cannot be left to memory alone."
Kael's fists tightened. "Then you know about the man. The one who attacked Jordan. The cloaked figure."
Lucian's expression remained placid. He tapped a finger against the desk once, twice. "Yes. I know of him."
Riven's voice cut through, low and sharp. "Who is he?"
Lucian's smile faded—not gone, but softened, as though the game had shifted. "If I told you his name, would it matter? Would it change what he is?"
"It would give us something to fight," Riven snapped.
Lucian chuckled softly. "Always the warrior. You haven't changed."
Kael's breath caught. The words were too deliberate. "You… remember."
For the first time, Lucian's eyes sharpened like glass. "Yes. Unlike most who drift through life, I remember. Each cycle, each turn of the wheel. I remember you."
The room tilted. Kael felt the floor sway beneath him, a wave of nausea hitting as the implications sank in.
"You're one of us," Kael whispered. "Reborn."
Lucian inclined his head slightly, like a teacher acknowledging a correct answer. "At last. You catch on."
Jordan stepped back, pressing against the wall. "This is insane," he muttered. "This is—what even are you people?"
Lucian ignored him. His eyes stayed on Kael. "But unlike you, I chose not to be bound. I remember each thread, each connection, without drowning in the weight of it."
Riven's stare hardened. "And yet here you are, hiding in an office, scribbling our names in secret."
Lucian's lips curved faintly. "Do not confuse discretion with weakness. My records are not vanity—they are survival."
Kael stepped forward. His voice shook with anger. "Survival from what?"
Lucian's gaze dropped to the book tucked under Riven's arm. "You've already seen. The cloaked one. The order behind him. The mark on the walls. They are not figments of your nightmares. They are real. They always have been."
Jordan spoke, his words tumbling out in desperation. "Then tell us how to stop them!"
Lucian turned slowly, his eyes pinning Jordan like a specimen. "Stop them?" His voice was soft, almost pitying. "Child, you do not stop a storm. You endure it. You endure… or you are broken."
Riven's voice was iron. "Not good enough."
Lucian's smile faded completely now. His gaze flicked between Kael and Riven. "You two are always the same. Fire and tether. Passion and restraint. Do you not see? That is why they hunt you. That is why they always will."
Kael's chest tightened. The words cut too close, as though Lucian had carved open the truth they'd been avoiding.
Riven's voice was steady, but Kael heard the undercurrent of fury. "If you know so much, then help us. Stand with us."
Lucian tilted his head, studying him. For a long moment, silence stretched. Then he laughed, low and cold.
"Help you? No. You still think in binaries—friend or foe, ally or enemy. But I have outgrown such chains. My role is not to hold your hand through destiny. My role is to observe, to record, to learn."
Kael's fists trembled. "You sound just like him. Like the cloaked man. Detached. Cold."
Lucian's smile returned, thinner this time. "And yet, unlike him, I did not leave Jordan bleeding in the street. Unlike him, I have not torn the two of you apart… yet."
The last word lingered like venom.
Kael stiffened. "Why say it like that?"
Lucian's eyes glinted. "Because, Kael, you still do not understand the cost of being bound together. Every cycle, your love is both your strength and your ruin. And when the storm rises this time—when he comes in full—you will have to decide whether to cling to each other, or to survive."
Riven stepped forward, voice like a blade. "If you know so much, then give us more than riddles. What does he want?"
Lucian's smile didn't falter. "He wants what he has always wanted. To sever the thread. To end the cycle. To break you."
Jordan whispered, "End it how?"
Lucian's eyes flicked toward him briefly, then back to Kael. "Through death. Through division. Through whatever means will finally unravel the bond that keeps drawing you back to one another."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Kael felt the truth settle like ice in his chest. Their bond wasn't just love—it was a target. A curse.
Lucian turned to his desk, as if the conversation had concluded. "Now. Return the book."
Riven didn't move.
Lucian's voice darkened, each word precise. "It does not belong to you. And if you walk out with it, you will regret it."
Kael's breath came uneven. He looked at Riven, who still gripped the book like a lifeline. Jordan's eyes darted between them all, wide and panicked.
Lucian finally turned, his gaze like steel. "You believe you are playing against me. But I am not your opponent."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice, and the clock ticked louder behind him.
"I am only the one keeping score."
The words hung in the air, heavy as stone.
Riven's grip on the book tightened. Kael's heart pounded so hard it hurt. Jordan's back pressed to the wall as if trying to vanish into it.
And Lucian's eyes gleamed in the dim light, a predator's calm wrapped in a scholar's smile.