The scent of old books lingered in the air—dust and parchment and something else.
Something sharp.
Aaliyah had come to the university library again. Alone. Silas was working late, or so he'd said. Part of her wondered if he was avoiding her—giving her time. Space. Safety.
But that wasn't what met her in the dim stacks.
It was him.
Lucien Vale.
Leaning against the shelf like he belonged to the shadows.
He didn't move as she turned the corner and froze.
Didn't blink. Didn't speak.
Just stared.
"You're following me now?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.
Lucien tilted his head. "You're predictable, Zahra."
"Don't call me that."
"Why not? It's beautiful. Pure. Makes your sins taste even sweeter."
Her chest tightened. "What do you want?"
Lucien took a slow step forward. Then another. His presence always came in waves—cool at first, then too hot to breathe.
"I want to know what you see in him," he said.
She narrowed her eyes. "That's none of your business."
"But it is." He was closer now. "Because while he plays the part of the wounded lover, I see what he's really doing."
She raised her chin. "And what's that?"
Lucien leaned in, voice like silk and poison.
"He's using your pity to make you forget your faith."
Her hand trembled, clutching the book in her grasp.
"That's a lie."
"Is it?" He touched the spine of a book near her face, grazing it with the backs of his fingers. "Or is he just giving you an excuse to stop pretending?"
"Pretending?"
Lucien's lips curled into something cruel. "That you're still pure. Untouched. Untouched inside."
She shoved the book into his chest and stepped back.
But Lucien caught her wrist.
It wasn't rough. It was almost gentle. But it was too much.
"Let go," she breathed.
He stared at her. Then—without warning—kissed her.
It was brief.
Shocking.
A collision of defiance and punishment.
She slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the aisle.
Lucien's head turned with the blow—but he didn't retaliate.
Didn't even flinch.
He just smiled.
"Now you'll run to him," he said, voice cold. "Because that's what you do when you're scared, isn't it? You hide behind broken things and call it love."
Aaliyah stepped back, trembling.
"You disgust me," she whispered.
His smile faded. His eyes darkened.
"No, Aaliyah," he said. "I mirror you."
Then he walked away.
Like he hadn't just lit a fire in her chest and dared her to drown in it.
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