SHADOWS OF THE PAST

Chapter 13

Shadows of the Past

The fire crackled softly in the dimly lit chamber, shadows flickering against the stone walls. Isla sat on the edge of Lucian's bed, her gaze locked onto his. His sharp, angular features were softer in the low light, but there was something haunted in his expression. He hadn't spoken in minutes.

She reached for his hand. "Lucian…"

His fingers curled around hers, cold as ever, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he exhaled, long and slow, before lifting his gaze to hers.

"You want to know why I am the way I am," he murmured.

Isla swallowed. "I want to know you."

A humorless chuckle left his lips. "Then listen carefully, because once you do, you won't look at me the same way again."

She held her breath as he began.

"I wasn't always this," Lucian said, eyes dark and distant. "I was human once. A long time ago."

Isla's heart pounded. She had suspected as much, but hearing it from him—so raw, so real—was different.

"I had a family. A younger brother. A woman I was supposed to marry. My father was a warlord, commanding men who fought to keep our lands safe." His jaw clenched. "But one night, the safety we believed in proved to be an illusion."

He inhaled sharply. "The werewolves came like shadows, ripping through our village. We fought. We bled. But it was hopeless." His voice dropped, a razor's edge of pain slicing through his words. "They tore my father apart. My mother. My brother. The woman I loved."

His grip on Isla's hand tightened, like he was anchoring himself. "I should have died with them. But I didn't."

A shiver ran down Isla's spine. "Why?"

Lucian's smile was bitter. "Because a vampire found me. He offered me a choice—death or transformation. I chose to live, not realizing I would never truly live again."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken sorrow.

Isla reached out, touching his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

His eyes burned into hers. "Don't be. That night shaped me. It made me what I am. And it made me hate them." His voice dropped to a whisper. "The wolves."

Lucian shifted, moving closer. "You make me forget the war, Isla. When I'm with you, the past doesn't strangle me."

Isla's breath hitched. His closeness, his intensity—it was intoxicating. "Then don't let it."

His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her face up. "You don't understand." His lips brushed against hers, teasing, his fangs grazing her lower lip. "I shouldn't want you. But I do. And if anyone knew…"

She shivered. "If anyone knew, what?"

Lucian's voice was gravelly with restraint. "They'd kill you for being with me."

A thrill shot through her. It should have terrified her, but it only made her crave him more.

"Then let them try." She crushed her lips against his.

Lucian groaned, his restraint snapping like a bowstring. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him as their kiss deepened—rough, desperate. Isla gasped as he lifted her, pressing her against the bed. His fingers traced fire down her spine, his touch leaving her breathless.

"Are you sure?" His voice was low, filled with barely contained hunger.

"Yes." No hesitation. No doubt.

His fangs traced the curve of her neck as his hands roamed her body, peeling away her clothing piece by piece. The air crackled between them, tension and desire intertwining like a dangerous dance. She moaned as his mouth explored her, his fingers teasing, his body pressing against hers in a way that sent her spiraling.

Their passion burned through the night, shadows and fire intertwining in the dark.

The next morning, Isla awoke tangled in Lucian's arms. His expression was unguarded, peaceful. It made her heart ache. But peace was fleeting.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the moment.

Lucian was up in an instant, his senses on high alert. Isla pulled the sheets around herself as he moved toward the door. He opened it just enough to peer outside.

Then his body went rigid.

A slow, taunting voice slid through the crack. "Hello, old friend."

Lucian slammed the door shut, cursing under his breath.

"Who is it?" Isla asked, heart hammering.

Lucian turned to her, his face a mask of fury. "An old enemy. One I thought was long dead."

The door burst open.

A figure stepped inside—a man, or at least something like a man. His face was sharp, angular like Lucian's, but his eyes were blood-red. A scar ran down the side of his face.

"Miss me?" the stranger said with a smirk.

Lucian's hands clenched into fists. "Varek."

Isla felt the tension in the air, thick with the promise of violence.

Varek's gaze flicked to her. "Ah, and who is this? Your little pet?"

Lucian moved so fast Isla barely saw him, slamming Varek against the wall with enough force to crack stone. "Touch her, and I'll rip your heart out."

Varek only laughed. "You always were too sentimental, Lucian." His voice dropped, dangerous and amused. "The Council knows about her."

Lucian froze.

Varek's smirk widened. "And they're coming."

A cold wave of fear crashed over Isla. She looked to Lucian, but his expression was unreadable.

Varek pushed off the wall, straightening his coat. "I suggest you run, lover boy. Because they don't just want her dead." He met Lucian's eyes. "They want you to burn."

Then, in a blur of motion, Varek was gone.

Silence hung between them.

Lucian turned to Isla, his jaw tight. "We have to leave. Now."

Isla swallowed, adrenaline spiking. "Where?"

Lucian's eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous. "Somewhere they'll never find us."