The night had fallen like a shroud over the city, thick and suffocating, but inside the house, the air was hotter—charged, almost crackling with fear and fury. I could feel it in my bones, smell it on my skin. Lucian moved like a shadow himself, checking locks, securing every window, scanning every corner with the precision of a man who had spent his life hunting danger before it had a chance to strike.
I held the girls in my arms, my heart hammering in sync with theirs. Aria, Arianna, and Arian clung to me, their tiny fingers gripping my clothes as if sheer will alone could keep the evil from reaching us. My father sat at the kitchen table, his hands trembling, head bowed as if the weight of every failure in his life rested squarely on his shoulders.
“This is my fault,” he muttered, voi
