SIN IN HIS SHADOW BOOK TWO

The city of Virello had never known peace—not really. Not for men like Zarek. The dawn painted the skyline in cruel gold, glinting off glass towers like knives. Below, the streets pulsed with life—markets opening, cars honking, normal people chasing normal dreams. A life Zarek could never have. Not with blood still on his hands. Not with Lucien asleep in his bed, breathing soft, like he didn’t know he was lying next to the devil himself. Zarek sat on the edge of the mattress, shirtless, scarred chest glowing in the morning light. His pistol lay on the nightstand, next to the black rose Lucien had left there the night before—a promise that somehow survived the war they’d just crawled through. Lucien stirred behind him. “You’re awake.” His voice was husky, sleep-warmed. Zarek didn’t look back. “Couldn’t sleep.” Lucien sat up slowly, the sheets falling to his waist. His hair was a mess of chestnut strands, his blue eyes heavy but sharp enough to read the tension coiled inside Zarek. > “You killed him,” Lucien said softly. Not a question. Zarek’s jaw tightened. “Zevian made his choice.” Lucien swallowed, reaching for him. “And now?” Zarek finally looked at him. And for a moment—just one—he allowed himself to feel it. The fragile illusion that the war was over. That he could keep this. Keep him. But then the phone rang. A single vibration. A single name flashing across the screen: Renzo. Zarek answered. “What is it?” Renzo’s voice was ice. “We’ve got a problem.” Zarek stood, muscles tensing. “What kind of problem?” Renzo hesitated. “The kind that bleeds. The kind that wears your name.” Lucien swung his legs off the bed. “Zarek?” But Zarek was already pulling on his black shirt, sliding the gun into his holster, eyes cold as steel. > “Stay here,” he said. Lucien stood too, defiant. “Don’t you dare lock me away again.” Zarek looked at him, long and hard. And then he said the one thing Lucien didn’t expect: > “I’m not locking you away, Lucien. I’m taking you with me.” Lucien blinked. “Where?” Zarek’s lips curved—not a smile, but something darker. > “To meet the man who just declared war on us.”