Page 56 of A Touch of Darkness

“I’ve been busy,” she admits, her voice just above a whisper. “But not so busy that I forgot… what happened.” Her cheeks flush, and my heart jolts. “I wanted to talk about it, but I didn’t know how.”

She looks both vulnerable and determined, and I have to steel myself against the desire to close the space between us. “Iwas afraid I’d pushed you too far,” I say quietly, remembering how she’d gasped against my lips, how her pulse had thundered in time with mine.

She hesitates, then shakes her head. “You didn’t push me,” she replies, meeting my gaze. “I wanted it, Lucian. I still do.” Her eyes widen, as if she’s surprised herself by her admission.

A faint crack seems to run through my chest, equal parts relief and longing. The next words tumble out before I can fully think them through. “May I kiss you again? Because if I’m honest, it’s all I’ve thought about since that day.”

She exhales, a shaky sound that sends a spark of raw need through my veins. “Yes,” she murmurs. “Please.”

That single word shatters my restraint. In one short stride, I close the distance, one hand rising to cradle her jaw. My gaze flits between her beautiful eyes and her full, parted lips. Then, gently, I lean down. The instant our mouths meet, I feel that familiar rush, like every nerve in my body lights up. Like her very magic is flowing from her and into me. She tastes of so much possibility, and my heart clenches at the overwhelming need to hold her closer, to never let go. To not make a mess of everything this time.

Her fingers curl into my shirt, tugging me nearer. The kiss deepens, and for a long, unmeasured moment, we lose ourselves in the warmth and certainty of one another. Her soft sounds of approval fuel the hunger in my chest, and I have to force myself to slow down, to keep from devouring her entirely.

Eventually, we break apart, breathing hard. I keep my forehead pressed to hers, eyes half-lidded. My pulse roars in my ears, and I’m sure she can feel how tense I am beneath her hands.

“That was…” She trails off, a soft laugh escaping her. “God, I’ve been imagining that ever since the library.”

My lips curve in a slow smile. “So have I, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I could tell.” She laughs again, sweeter this time, and gently extricates her fingers from my shirt. “I guess we both needed this conversation.”

I straighten, letting one hand settle on her waist, reluctant to lose the contact. “Does this mean you won’t avoid me any longer?” My tone is lighter than I feel—because underneath it all, an ancient fear nags at me: that something or someone will tear us apart again.

She studies me, her gaze steady, her expression thoughtful. “I really wasn’t meaning to. But if I was, I don’t want to avoid you anymore,” she says firmly. “Everything’s so complicated, but… I don’t care. I want to figure it out. I’ve never…felt this undeniable pull before.”

A mixture of hope and doubt twist together in my chest. “I won’t pretend things aren’t dangerous,” I say, trailing my fingertips lightly along her side. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll help you face it.”

Her cheeks warm again, and for a moment, the gravity of our situation falls away, leaving only the two of us and the heady promise lingering in the space between. We might be surrounded by secrets and danger, but here, alone in this echoing classroom, we choose each other.

I cup her cheek, letting my thumb graze her lower lip. “Thank you for coming,” I say, voice husky with the emotions churning inside me. “For letting me see you.”

She tilts her head into my palm, eyes fluttering shut like she’s found a safe space within me. I don’t mind moving slow with her, giving her time to feel the way I do, the way I’ve felt for centuries. I may remember her, but she cannot possibly, and I know I need to give her time.

I’m just grateful to have her back—in any way she’ll allow.

The knock at my door comes sharp and urgent, cutting through the quiet of my dorm like a blade. My heart leaps into my throat, the mere act of knocking on my door causing a shock of PTSD to rumble through me. When I glance through the peephole, Lucian is standing there. I look at the clock and realize I’ve gone another half of a day looking at all these old texts and books that I’ve been studying in every spare bit of time I’ve had.

Lucian sent me a text last night and asked me how my latest healing attempt went in class. He’s probably been worried. The last time I saw him was two days ago when I visited him in his classroom. I can’t deny the man does something to me. Even in the midst of everything happening, I want to learn more about him. Want to continue to explore him.

And I definitely want to taste him again. That is for sure.

My relief over seeing Lucian is short-lived. He looks different—tense, with shadows pooling under his eyes and a stiffness in his posture that makes my stomach churn.

I crack the door open. “What’s wrong?” I ask, instinctively knowing something is going on.

“We have to go,” he says without preamble, his voice low and clipped. His eyes scan the hallway behind him before locking on mine. “Now.”

“Go where?” I blink at him, confused.

“I found her.” His voice softens just slightly, though urgency still clings to every word. “Lara. I found where they’re keeping her.”

The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. “What? Where? How?”

“I’ll explain on the way. We don’t have time for questions right now.” He glances over his shoulder, the motion sharp and wary. “It’s not safe here. Get dressed and grab what you need.”

His words sink in slowly, and despite the million questions swirling in my head, I nod, my hands fumbling as I slip into my shoes and jacket.

Minutes later, we’re outside. He pulls me toward a sleek black car parked at the curb. I hesitate for just a moment, glancing around the quiet campus.

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