some unspoken words...

Lucian Blackmoor had never been the type to extend invitations. Yet here Serena was, seated at the long dining table, the morning light spilling through the grand windows as if it belonged to another world. The clinking of silverware and the murmur of distant wind were the only sounds accompanying them.

She should have refused.

Should have walked away.

But instead, she met his gaze and took the first bite of her meal.

Jerry leaned back in his chair, his brown eyes flicking between them with a knowing gleam. "You know, I always thought I'd see the world end before I saw this man invite someone to breakfast."

Ava, across from him, let out a scoff, stirring her tea in slow, deliberate circles. "Maybe it is ending. Maybe this is the beginning of the apocalypse, and we're all just too stupid to realize it."

Serena set down her fork, ignoring their theatrics. "I can't help but feel like I've stepped into something I shouldn't have."

Lucian tilted his head slightly. "And yet, you stayed."

His words weren't an accusation. They were an observation.

Serena held his gaze. "Curiosity can be a dangerous thing."

Lucian's lips curled—not quite a smirk, not quite amusement. "It's the only thing that makes life interesting."

Ava exhaled, her grip tightening around her cup. Jerry's expression flickered, something unreadable passing over his face before he masked it with another easy grin.

Serena wasn't oblivious.

Lucian had done something just now. Shifted the air. Pulled invisible strings. And she had let him.

Why?

She should have pushed harder. Should have demanded an answer to why she was here.

Instead, she took another bite.

And Lucian watched her do it.

Later That Day

Serena wandered the halls of Ashthrone Manor, its suffocating silence pressing against her skin. There was something unnatural about it—how the shadows clung to the corners, how the walls listened.

Her footsteps were nearly soundless against the polished floors. She wasn't sure where she was going, only that staying still felt worse.

Then—

"I'm surprised you're still here."

Ava's voice cut through the quiet, and Serena turned to see the woman leaning against a carved pillar, arms crossed.

Serena exhaled. "So am I."

Ava studied her, green eyes flickering with something indecipherable. "You should know something about Lucian. He doesn't do things without reason."

"I figured as much."

"Then you should also figure out what that reason is before it's too late."

Serena frowned. "Too late for what?"

Ava's smirk was sharp, edged with something that wasn't quite amusement. "For you to still have a choice."

Then she pushed off the pillar and walked away, leaving Serena alone with the quiet.

And the growing realization that she had already stepped too far in.

That Night

Serena awoke to the sound of the wind.

Except—

The windows were closed.

Her pulse quickened. She stayed still, ears straining.

Then—

Footsteps.

Not outside.

Not in the hallway.

Inside her room.

Her breath hitched.

Slow. Deliberate. They moved toward her bed, stopping just short of where the moonlight touched the floor.

She swallowed, pulse hammering. "Is there a reason you're watching me sleep, or is this just a new form of hospitality?"

Silence.

Then—

Lucian's voice, low and unhurried. "You pretend well."

Serena exhaled slowly, pushing herself upright. "why you're here?"

Lucian didn't answer immediately. He stepped closer, the faint glow from the candle he carried illuminating the sharp lines of his face.

"Finding out something",

Serena refused to shrink under his gaze. "And what are you trying to find out?"

Lucian's expression remained unreadable. "If you belong here."

A chill spread down her spine. "And?"

Lucian's smirk was slow. Almost imperceptible.

"We'll see."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving her in the dark.

With the distinct feeling that she had already failed whatever the thing he had set.

Serena didn't sleep after that.

She didn't move either.

She sat in bed, back against the headboard, staring at the door Lucian had left through. The candle he'd carried had cast his shadow unnaturally long against the walls, stretching like something alive before vanishing into the corridor's darkness.

If she had belonged here, would he have stayed?

And if she didn't—what happened next?

The Morning After

The manor was unsettlingly normal the next day.

Jerry was laughing over breakfast, Ava was making her usual sharp remarks, and Lucian—

Lucian acted as if last night hadn't happened.

Serena knew better than to bring it up.

"So," Jerry drawled, stirring his coffee. "What exactly are you doing here, Serena?"

She raised a brow. "I'm a journalist."

"Mm. But what are you really doing here?"

Serena set her cup down. "You tell me."

Jerry grinned. "Maybe you're here to break the Blackmoor curse. Maybe you're Lucian's long-lost lover in disguise. Or maybe—" He leaned in slightly, voice dipping to something conspiratorial. "—you're a ghost, and we just haven't figured it out yet."

Ava scoffed. "Please. If she were a ghost, Lucian would've noticed."

Serena tilted her head. "Would he?"

Ava smirked. "Oh, he notices everything."

Something flickered in Jerry's expression. A hint of something unspoken, gone as quickly as it came.

Serena glanced at Lucian, expecting a reaction.

He merely sipped his tea, entirely unbothered.

But the way he held his cup—slow, deliberate, like a calculation rather than a habit—made her wonder.

Had he noticed her hesitation last night? The way her pulse had quickened?

Did he know she hadn't slept?

Lucian's eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt like he was answering all those questions without saying a word.

Then he looked away.

Later That Day

Serena wandered the manor again.

She told herself it was just curiosity. That she wasn't looking for anything in particular.

And yet—

Her steps led her to the forbidden wing. The one no one spoke of.

She placed her hand against the cold wooden door, feeling the faintest pulse of something beneath her palm.

The air shifted.

A presence behind her.

She didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"You really don't listen, do you?"

Lucian's voice was smooth, but there was something beneath it. Amusement? Warning?

Serena exhaled, lowering her hand. "Old habits."

Lucian stepped closer, his presence a tangible thing against her back. "And what exactly were you hoping to find?"

Serena turned, meeting his gaze head-on. "An answer."

Lucian tilted his head. "To what question?"

She didn't look away. "What you're hiding."

Silence stretched between them.

Then, Lucian did something unexpected.

He smiled.

Not the ghost of a smirk. Not the cold amusement he usually wore.

A real, slow, dangerous smile.

"Careful, Serena." he leaned very close to her and His voice was soft, almost affectionate. "You might not like the answer."

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

Leaving her with the distinct feeling that she was no longer the hunter in this game.

She was the prey.

Serena stood frozen, her fingertips still tingling from where they had brushed the door.

You might not like the answer.

Lucian's voice echoed in her mind, smooth and deliberate, like a blade tracing the line between curiosity and danger.

She exhaled sharply and stepped away from the forbidden wing. She had pushed enough—for now.

She should have stayed in her room.

She told herself that, over and over, as she wandered the halls again, candle in hand.

The manor at night was different.

Quieter. Deeper.

It wasn't just the absence of voices—it was the way the air itself seemed to listen.

Serena walked without a destination, following an instinct she couldn't explain. Her breath was steady, but her pulse wasn't.

Then—

A sound.

Soft. Barely there.

She turned a corner and—

Lucian.

Standing at the far end of the corridor, his back to her.

He hadn't been there a second ago.

She took a slow step forward. "Lucian—"

He moved.

Not toward her.

Through the wall.

The candle in her hand flickered violently.

Serena's breath caught. She rushed forward, reaching out—

And her hand met solid stone.

The wall was real. He had walked right through it.

Her heart pounded. She pressed her palm flat against the surface, searching, feeling—

Nothing.

Only cold stone.

She swallowed hard.

The manor wasn't just old. It wasn't just haunted by secrets.

And Lucian Blackmoor?

He wasn't just hiding something.

He was part of it.