The storm howled through the shattered windows of the chapel, but inside, the air was deathly still. Kael pressed his back to the cold stone wall, refusing to let his shaking hands show.
Lucien took his time, pacing leisurely along the remnants of the summoning circle, his boots stirring ash. It was as though the centuries weighed nothing on him.
"Five hundred years," Lucien said softly, running a hand along the broken altar. "Five hundred years locked in shadow, waiting for some fool with enough arrogance to bleed the right words." His crimson gaze slid back to Kael. "That fool, apparently… is you."
Kael forced his voice steady. "If you've been cursed that long, then I'll find a way to send you back."
Lucien's laugh was dark, low, and cruel. "Send me back? Witchling, you misunderstand. You've broken the seal. I'm not bound to the darkness anymore I'm bound to you."
Kael's chest constricted at the words. He could still feel the bond crawling under his skin, a second heartbeat thrumming against his own. "Why me? Why now?"
Lucien moved closer, too close, his presence filling every inch of space until Kael felt cornered. He brushed a strand of wet hair from Kael's forehead with unsettling intimacy, though his touch was cold as grave earth.
"Because your magic is rare. Untainted. Strong enough to call something you could not control. And now…" Lucien's lips curved in a smile that wasn't kind. "…your strength feeds mine."
Kael shoved his hand away. "I won't be used."
Lucien's grin sharpened, predator amused by prey's defiance. "You already are. Every breath you take, every beat of your heart it pours into me. Kill me, and you die. Kill yourself, and I vanish. Try to run…" He leaned in, whispering, "…and the bond will drag me right back to your side."
Kael's pulse thundered in his ears. Trapped. Caged. Bound to the very thing he had feared.
And then, as if to prove the point, a sound cut through the storm outside: heavy boots crunching over broken stone. Voices shouting.
The Council's hunters.
Kael's blood ran cold. They had found him.
Lucien's eyes gleamed crimson in the dark, hungry and eager.
"Shall I show you, little witch," he purred, "just how useful a monster can be?"