Page 66 of A Touch of Darkness

He’s barefoot, his dress slacks hanging low on his hips, his chest bare. It brings me back to the night I walked in on him fucking that vampire woman.

My mind betrays me. My cheeks burn at the memory, my traitorous body stirring despite the slice of resentment still simmering beneath my skin.

His dark hair falls loose, framing his face in the soft glow of the firelight. For a moment, I can’t breathe. He really is a beautiful man. If it weren’t for him being a vampire, I’d swear him to be an angel.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just leans against the doorframe like he’s unsure if he’s welcome. His usual confidence is absent, replaced by something quieter, almost hesitant.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice is low, careful.

I shake my head, and he steps further into the room, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t ask if he can sit beside me; he just does. It’s very on brand for the Lucian I’ve come to know. He takes what he wants, and right now, he wants my time. The mattress dips under his weight. He’s too close, his presence overwhelming, like the room has suddenly shrunk.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he says after a moment, his eyes fixed on the fire. I’ve wanted you to rest, to give you time to recuperate. To heal. Still, I feel as though if I don’t say this now, I’ll never say it at all.”

“What is it?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but I can’t help it. The tension between us is suffocating.

“It’s about you. About who you are. Whoweare.”

The way he says it makes my heart lurch. I don’t respond, waiting for him to continue, but he seems to be struggling with the words. Finally, he sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. For a man so powerful, he looks almost…afraid.

And I can’t help but feel deeply unsettled.

“You deserve to know the truth, Sylvie. No more half-answers. No more avoiding it. After all that happened at the hands of the Solstice Society, what could have happened down in that chamber, I can’t keep it from you any longer.”

I want to interrupt, to demand answers. Why has he been keeping secrets from me? Something in his expression stops me.He looks... haunted. Like whatever these secrets are hurt him as much as they might hurt me.

“You and Seraphina. You’ve been intrigued by her. You’ve seen visions. The two of you—you are one and the same,” he says, his voice growing quiet.

The name hits me like a physical blow. It’s not just the sound of it—though the way he says it, soft and reverent, sends a shiver down my spine. It’s theweightof it. The way it settles over me, heavy and inescapable.

“I don’t—what are you talking about?” My voice is thin, trembling.

“You are reincarnated,” he says. “I know this is hard to believe. And you’ve had so much thrown at you in such a little amount of time, but you aren’t just Sylvie Rosenthal. You were Seraphina Everdawn. You were a witch more powerful than anyone I’d ever known. And we... we were in love.”

The room tilts, my world spinning on its axis. I clutch the blanket beneath me, trying to ground myself, but his words keep whirling in my head.

“We? We were in…love?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. “In another life. As Seraphina…”

That could explain this intense pull I feel toward him.

Lucian nods, his beautiful, dark gaze finally meeting mine. “Deeply. Madly, one could argue. We were connected in ways I can’t fully explain. Bound. Tied across lifetimes, across centuries, written in the stars. But I failed you, Sylvie. I betrayed you.”

“Betrayed me?” My chest tightens, my voice cracking on the words. Another explanation for the odd sensation I felt walking up to Blackthorne when I first saw him. How I’ve felt this pull yet this strange sense of…something being not quite right.

He nods again, and the pain in his eyes is almost unbearable. “You were pregnant. We were going to have a child, and Ithought... I thought I could keep you safe. But my father—he would’ve destroyed us both. I turned my back on you to protect you, to give you a chance to live, to survive without me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I—” His rushed words slow, his voice breaks, and he looks away, unable to finish.

Pregnant. Betrayed. Protected. He told me this before, but it was about Seraphina. I didn’t have such a dire connection to the words he was saying about the curse, about the man who hurt her…but now. I am Seraphina. Yes, I’m Sylvie, but I was once her, too.

His words blur together, and my breathing quickens. I press my palms against my temples, willing the pieces to fit, but it’s too much.

“You leftme,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You abandoned me.” Flashes of my life as Seraphina come back to me. Tangled in the sheets with Lucian. Making love to him in front of a fireplace. My hand settling over my belly and feeling life inside of me.

Healing him with my palms when he was hurt, curing him.

And then cursing him.

“Oh, my God,” I say, my hand cupping my mouth. The visions come back. Seraphina—me, the cracked mirror in my dorm.

“I thought it was the only way,” he says, his voice rough. “But you didn’t see it that way. You were furious. Devastated. And in your grief, your rage, you cursed me. You created the curse that made vampires what they are. That made me what I am.”

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