A Call From Home

The scent of roses filled the air, mingling with the crisp night breeze. Helena sat beside Xavier on the stone bench, their fingers loosely intertwined. The world felt peaceful for the first time in days—until a raven landed on the garden wall.

Helena's breath caught as the bird tilted its head, sharp black eyes glinting under the moonlight. A rolled-up letter was tied to its leg with a silk ribbon.

Xavier was already on his feet before the bird could flutter away. With a swift motion, he untied the letter and unrolled it. His silver eyes darkened as he read.

Come home.

Mother and Father know everything.

They are furious. If you don't return now, you may never be able to.

Lucian's signature was at the bottom, sharp and deliberate.

Helena swallowed hard.

It was too simple. Too direct. Too perfect.

Xavier crumpled the letter in his fist. "It's a trap."

Helena exhaled shakily. "I know."

"Then we're not going back."

She hesitated. "But… what if it's true? What if Mother and Father really know?"

Xavier stiffened. His parents were cold, calculating, and merciless. If they truly knew what he had done choosing Helena over them, defying their control they wouldn't just sit and wait.

They would send someone to drag them back in chains.

And Lucian would love every second of it.

A long silence stretched between them.

Xavier clenched his jaw.

"...We leave at dawn."

The Devil's Den

The grand estate loomed before them, its tall iron gates groaning as they swung open.

Xavier hated this place.

Helena's hand was cold in his, but she didn't pull away. They would face this together.

Candles flickered along the walls, casting eerie shadows that seemed to stretch toward them like grasping fingers. The scent of aged wine and burnt wood clung to the air.

At the top of the grand staircase stood Lucian.

Perfect. Effortless. Deadly.

His dark hair, styled just enough to look careless, framed a face sculpted like a masterpiece. His features were sharp, cruelly beautiful high cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips curved into an unreadable smile.

But his eyes—those piercing, unreadable predator's eyes—betrayed his amusement.

"Welcome home," Lucian said smoothly, descending the stairs with the grace of a prince.

Xavier's grip on Helena tightened. Protective. Possessive.

"Mother and Father," Xavier demanded. "Where are they?"

Lucian's smirk widened. "Oh, they'll see you soon enough. But first…" He gestured toward the dining hall.

"You must be exhausted. Come eat, drink. We have much to discuss."

Helena hesitated.

Something about Lucian's voice sent a shiver down her spine.

The air was too thick, too sweet like spiced wine masking something bitter.

Xavier felt it too.

But it was too late to turn back now.

They had walked straight into Lucian's game.