Layla stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her. The quiet pressed in, heavy and suffocating, as though the walls themselves were listening. She leaned against the bedpost, her chest still rising quickly from the confrontation in the corridor.
Her thoughts tangled: Lucien and Iman's closeness, Dorian's cryptic words, the way his eyes held her still. None of it made sense, and yet it all felt connected.
She moved toward the bed, brushing her fingers across the carved wooden frame. The door joints had groaned when she entered, and now even the wood beneath her touch seemed to pulse faintly, alive.
Then it came - whisper. Faint at first, curling through the silence like smoke.
"Layla..."
Her breath caught. She spun, searching the corners of the room, but there was no one there.
The whisper grew stronger, layered, as though voices overlapped. "Layla... chosen... claimed..."
She pressed her hands to her ears, trembling. "Stop it! Leave me alone!"
The door creaked open. Dorian stood there, his expression unreadable.
"You hear it, don't you?" he asked quietly.
Layla's eyes widened. "It knows my name."
Dorian stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His presence filled the room, steady and unshaken. "The house doesn't speak to everyone. Only to those it wants."
Layla backed away, her voice breaking. "Why me? Why not Iman?"
Dorian's gaze darkened. "Because already claimed her bond. The house... it claims you."
The words sank into her like ice. Layla's knees weakened, and she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
Dorian moved closer, his voice low but firm. "Rest now. You'll need strength for what comes next."
The whisper faded, leaving only silence. But Layla knew it wasn't gone. It was waiting. Watching.
Meanwhile, on the balcony...
The night air was cool, brushing against Iman's skin, but Lucien's presence was warmer than fire. His arms lingered at her waist, steady and protective, as though he feared she might vanish if he let go.
Iman titled her head, her voice soft but uncertain. "Why do you hold me like this?"
Lucien's eyes searched hers, the sharpness of his usual smirk fading into something gentler. "Because when you're close, the chaos quiets. You bring me peace, Iman - a peace I thought I'd lost forever."
Her breath caught, jealousy and fear dissolving into something deeper. She remembered the Layla had doubted him, the others whispered of his danger. Yet here, in this moment, she felt none of that.
Lucien leaned closer, his voice low, almost reverent. "You don't understand yet... but I cannot survive without you. You are the bond I was searching for."
Iman's heart raced. "Survive without me? What does that mean?"
His hand tightened slightly at her waist, as though anchoring himself. "It means you are not just a choice. You are necessity. My existence bends towards you, whether you except it or not."
Iman's lips parted, her breath trembling. She wanted to deny it, but the way his eyes held hers made denial impossible.
Lucien brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're not afraid of me now, are you?"
Her voice was barely a whisper. "No... not of you."
The tension melted into something softer. Lucien leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. The world seemed to fall away - whispers of the house, the shadows of danger - leaving only the quiet rhythm of their breathing.
Iman closed her eyes, her hand resting lightly against his chest. "Don't let go."
Lucien's lips curved into the faintest smile, but his eyes burned with something far stronger than amusement. "I never will."
And then, almost without thinking, Iman wrapped her arms around him. Lucien's embrace tightened instantly, strong yet tender, as though he had been waiting for this moment all along.
For the first time, both of them felt the weight of fear lift. It wasn't just survival anymore - it was a chance. A chance they both were willing to take.
Above them, the stars shimmered, but it was the warmth of their hug that lit the night.