Lucian’s POV
The corridors in Phantom’s palace stretched before me, dim and endless, torchlight flickering against stone like restless spirits. My footsteps echoed too loud, betraying the storm inside me. Every shadow seemed alive, curling along the walls, whispering warnings I refused to hear. The air itself felt heavy, charged, as if the palace knew I was about to cross a line.
Maryelle’s name pulsed in my chest with every step, a rhythm louder than my heartbeat. I remembered her laughter, the way her eyes softened when she came alive, passionate about something, the way she fought for Phantom even when it broke her. That loyalty was her strength—and her weakness. And tonight, it might be mine too.
The prophecy pressed against me like a weight. You and she are destined. You are mean
