You Buried The Wrong Girl
Selene
It was a mistake to go out.
The kind of mistake that tightens around your throat in hindsight, right before the blade sinks.
But I needed answers.
And the walls of my apartment had started to feel like a padded cell.
---
I found myself at the city archives. A ghost town after dark, just the way I liked it. The clerk had barely looked up when I'd mentioned the Blackwood estate files. Old permits. Property transfer slips. Medical invoices under aliases I hadn't used in years.
But buried in the paper maze, I found something that turned my spine to ice.
Liora's handwriting.
Just one sentence scribbled across a page tucked deep into a psychiatric report I shouldn't have had access to:
"You buried the wrong girl."
---
I stumbled out of the building in a daze. Cold air slapped my cheeks as I tried to focus.
Who was the right girl?
Liora never wrote riddles. She gave directives.
This wasn't a message—it was a trapdoor.
---
The alley behind the archives was damp and shadow-choked. I wasn't planning on going down it. But something caught my eye.
A figure.
Tall. Hooded. Watching me.
I took a step back.
"Lucian?" I called softly.
The figure turned.
Not Lucian.
Not anyone I recognized.
And yet—
Those eyes.
I blinked. "Wait…"
She tilted her head slightly, and for a second, moonlight caught her face.
My face.
Not entirely. Not exactly. But enough to make the breath punch out of my lungs.
I took a step toward her.
And she vanished around the corner.
---
Lucian
I felt it before the call came in.
Like the world had tilted on its axis and only I noticed.
Jax's voice buzzed in my ear.
"She's moving. Alone."
I didn't need more.
I was already out the door, already sliding behind the wheel of the black car.
---
Ten minutes later, I spotted her on the surveillance feed—walking fast down a side street, wild-eyed and pale.
"Selene—"
Then I saw her.
For a flash.
A ghost I buried years ago.
Nyx.
My sister.
Or someone wearing her face.
The camera glitched. She disappeared again.
And I was left with the taste of acid and betrayal in my mouth.
---
Selene
Back in my apartment, I couldn't shake it.
Her eyes.
Mine—but not.
Lucian arrived less than an hour later.
He didn't knock. Didn't say a word.
He just *looked* at me.
And I cracked.
"I saw her," I whispered.
"Who?"
I hesitated.
"I don't know."
He stepped closer.
"Say it."
My throat tightened. "She looked like me."
Lucian froze. Like the whole damn room froze with him.
"What else?" he asked, voice flat.
"She ran."
"Did she say anything?"
I shook my head.
But I could see it in his eyes now—he knew. He recognized her. And he hadn't told me.
So I did the only thing I could.
I kissed him.
Hard.
Furious.
Hungry.
He didn't pull away.
He *devoured* me.
---
We fell into the couch, into heat and desperation, into a rhythm that was too practiced, too raw.
My nails raked down his back. His teeth grazed my collarbone.
But even then, I felt it:
This wasn't just lust.
It was grief.
Rage.
Guilt.
His movements were frantic, but his eyes betrayed it.
He wasn't thinking about me.
Not entirely.
He was chasing a ghost.
---
Later, I curled against him, sweat cooling on my skin.
"You know who she is," I said quietly.
He didn't answer.
I turned my head.
His eyes were open. Sharp. Watching the shadows.
And for the first time since I'd met him, Lucian Wolfe looked… haunted.
---
Elsewhere
A figure walked through the back corridors of a derelict chapel.
Candles flickered along the stone walls.
A voice—sharp, feminine—echoed from the darkness.
"She's not ready."
Nyx stepped into the light.
"She's closer than you think."
"Then push harder."
A smile played on her lips.
"I already have."