The silence in the Unwritten Tunnels wasn't peaceful; it was a physical weight, pressing against the eardrums like the depths of the ocean. Lucian didn't move from Lyra's side. He sat on a crate of rusted hardware, his gaze fixed on her face with an intensity that seemed capable of burning holes through her skin.
The Possession of a King
He reached out, his hand trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and predatory hunger. His fingers traced the line of her jaw, the obsidian claws retracted just enough to leave faint, white marks on her pale flesh.
"You are changing, my love," he whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark, melodic pride. "Can you feel it? The 'Sun' they put inside you is dying. The light is a lie. But the darkness... the darkness is honest. It's the only thing that won't leave you."
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her temple. He could taste the ozone of her power and the metallic tang of the "System's" corruption.
