Genre: Dark Romance
Chapter Two — When the Past Hunts
The ring felt heavier on Elara’s finger as dawn crept across Blackthorn City like a reluctant witness. Morning light had no mercy here—it exposed everything the night tried to hide.
She hadn’t slept.
Lucien stood by the cracked window of the safehouse, cigarette burning untouched between his fingers. The place was old, forgotten by everyone except ghosts and men who couldn’t afford to be found. It smelled of dust, rain-soaked concrete, and memories Elara didn’t want back.
“You always pace when you’re thinking about running,” he said without looking at her.
Elara stiffened. “And you always pretend you know me better than you do.”
A slow exhale of smoke curled into the air. “I know you well enough to recognize fear when it’s dressed up as anger.”
She turned to him then, eyes sharp. “Don’t.”
Lucien finally faced her. The distance between them was small, but it felt like a battlefield. “They’ve already made a move,” he said. “That call you got last night wasn’t a coincidence.”
Her throat tightened. She hadn’t told him about the call. About the distorted voice whispering her name like a threat. About the photo sent afterward—her younger sister stepping out of a café, unaware she was being watched.
“You’re being followed,” he continued. “Carefully. Professionally.”
Elara clenched her fists. “If they wanted me dead, I’d already be gone.”
“That’s the point,” Lucien replied. “They don’t want you dead. They want you afraid.”
The words landed like a verdict. Fear was a currency in Blackthorn—valuable, easily spent.
She crossed the room and snatched the cigarette from his fingers, crushing it out on the windowsill. “I won’t be used as leverage. Not again.”
His jaw flexed. “You think I’d let that happen?”
“You already did,” she snapped. “Seven years ago.”
Silence fell hard and sharp.
Lucien stepped closer, his voice low. “I disappeared because staying would’ve gotten you killed.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I had to,” he said. “I loved you.”
The confession hung between them, raw and dangerous. Elara felt it then—the old ache stirring beneath her ribs, the memory of hands that once held her like the world could end and it wouldn’t matter.
She turned away. “Love doesn’t erase betrayal.”
“No,” he admitted. “But it explains it.”
A knock echoed through the safehouse, sudden and violent.
Both of them froze.
Lucien’s hand went to the gun tucked at his waist. “Get behind me.”
Elara didn’t argue. She never had when it mattered.
The door burst open.
A man stumbled inside, bleeding heavily from his side, eyes wild with panic. “Crowe,” he gasped. “They found us.”
Lucien swore under his breath. “You weren’t supposed to come here.”
“I had no choice,” the man said, collapsing to the floor. His gaze flicked to Elara, recognition flashing. “So this is her.”
Elara’s blood ran cold. “You told them about me?”
“No,” Lucien said sharply. “No one knows her identity.”
The man laughed weakly. “Then they’re closer than you think.”
Before either of them could react, the man pressed something into Lucien’s hand—a blood-smeared flash drive. “Names. Locations. Proof. If anything happens to me—”
A gunshot shattered the moment.
The man’s body went still.
Elara screamed as glass exploded inward, bullets tearing through the walls. Lucien dragged her down, covering her with his body as chaos erupted.
“Stay down!” he shouted.
Sirens wailed in the distance—too distant. Too late.
Lucien fired back with cold precision, movements practiced, lethal. When the shooting stopped, the silence that followed was worse.
He pulled her up, hands gripping her shoulders. “Are you hit?”
She shook her head, breath shaking. “They knew. They knew.”
Lucien’s eyes burned with something close to fury—and guilt. “This is my fault.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “It is.”
He didn’t deny it.
They stood among shattered glass and blood, the weight of truth pressing in.
“What’s on the drive?” she asked.
Lucien looked down at it like it might explode. “The reason I vanished. And the reason they’ll kill us both if they get it back.”
Elara swallowed hard. Fear clawed at her—but beneath it, something darker stirred. Resolve.
“Then we don’t run,” she said.
Lucien studied her, searching her face. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do,” she replied. “I spent seven years surviving what you left behind.”
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “You’ve changed.”
“So have you.”
Outside, Blackthorn City began to wake, unaware of the war quietly igniting in its veins.
Lucien slipped the flash drive into his pocket. “If we do this, there’s no turning back.”
Elara met his gaze, steady and unafraid.
“Good,” she said. “I’m done walking away.”
And somewhere deep in the city, the past took notice—and started hunting.
