Chapter 7: The Devil in the Dark
488 Words
Lucien didn’t notice the door unlocking.
Didn’t hear the whisper of boots on polished marble.
He was too busy staring at the words glowing on his phone screen:
> Unknown: “Do you really think Zarek loves you more than his power?”
Lucien typed back, his pulse pounding in his ears.
> Lucien: “Yes.”
Three dots appeared. Paused. Disappeared. Then came the reply:
> Unknown: “Then why is he out there killing while you rot in his cage?”
Lucien’s throat closed. He hated how much it sounded like truth.
The next message came with a photo.
Zarek.
Kneeling in the rain.
Gun pressed to his own head.
> Unknown: “This is what he becomes for you. Are you proud?”
Lucien’s breath shattered. “No… no…” He gripped the phone so hard it almost cracked.
> Lucien: “Stop this. Where are you?”
A slow reply.
> Unknown: “Closer than you think.”
The lights went out.
Lucien froze.
The silence was a living thing, wrapping around him like chains. Then—
> Footsteps.
Soft. Careful. Behind him.
“Hello, pretty thing,” a voice purred.
Lucien turned—too slow. A hand slammed over his mouth. Another arm locked around his waist, dragging him backward into the shadows.
He kicked, clawed, fought—but the blade pressed against his throat stilled him.
> “Shhh,” Alder whispered. His breath was warm against Lucien’s ear. “Don’t scream. It ruins the game.”
Lucien trembled, fury burning through his fear. “Zarek will kill you.”
Alder chuckled, low and cruel. “Good. I hope he tries. Because I want him to feel every second of losing you.”
Chains clinked as he dragged Lucien down a hidden stairwell—beneath the very estate Zarek swore was impenetrable.
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Forty Minutes Later — The Main Gates
Zarek’s car screeched to a stop, tires screaming against wet stone. He stormed into the mansion with Renzo and two soldiers behind him, his gun drawn, his chest heaving with rage.
The guards at the panic room door were dead.
Throats slit.
Eyes open, glassy with terror.
Zarek kicked the door open.
Empty.
The bed was a mess of torn sheets and black feathers from a broken pillow. And on the wall—written in blood—were three words:
> “Too slow, lover.”
Zarek’s hand clenched so hard on the gun that his knuckles split. Blood mixed with rain on the floor.
Renzo appeared behind him. “Zarek—”
Zarek turned, eyes like fire, voice like death.
> “Find him.”
Renzo hesitated. “And if Alder kills everyone we send?”
Zarek looked back at the wall. At the message.
At the broken promise he made Lucien.
> “Then I’ll kill Alder myself,” Zarek whispered. “And anyone who stands in my way.”
- Writer
