Starlit veins

Chaptertwo

The days after the encounter by the river felt oddly weighted, as if the air itself had grown thicker, more difficult to breathe. Aiden told himself it was nothing—that Lucien had only been a stranger, passing through, one of countless faces in the endless ebb of the city. And yet, every time he caught his reflection in the glass door of the bookshop, he half expected to see silver eyes staring back at him.

He busied himself with routine. Shelving, dusting, ordering shipments of books that barely sold, arranging displays that only he would admire. It should have soothed him, the predictability of it. But nothing settled. He would pause in the middle of stacking paperbacks, heart hammering, certain he’d felt someone watching from the street.

On the third morning, the bell above the shop door rang, and Kaela swept inside. She was as much a part of his life as the creaking shelves and the smell of ink and paper. Her hair was an untamed halo of curls, dyed streaks of green and blue woven through, and her jacket was stitched over with patches from bands no one else remembered. Kaela lived on stubbornness and caffeine, and she wielded her loyalty like a blade.

“You look like hell,” she announced without preamble, slapping a coffee cup down on the counter.

“Good morning to you too,” Aiden said, forcing a smile.

Kaela narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start with me. You’ve been twitchy since I last saw you. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just tired.”

“Liar.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, studying him with sharp suspicion. “Spill it, Mercer. Did someone screw with you? Do I need to break a kneecap?”

Aiden laughed despite himself. “You’d need to find them first.”

Her expression softened for a moment. “So there is a someone.”

He shook his head, too quickly. “Not like that.” But the warmth rising to his cheeks betrayed him.

Kaela arched a brow. “Aha. Mystery man. No wonder you’re distracted.” She reached over, snatching the order list he’d been holding. “Who is he?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s… no one.”

Her gaze lingered, but she let it go with a shrug. “Fine. Be cryptic. Just don’t get yourself hurt, okay?”

Her warning should have rolled off him, but it lodged deep. He didn’t know why he couldn’t simply tell her about Lucien, about the way the man had looked at him, as if he knew the shape of his bones, the rhythm of his breath. Maybe because saying it aloud would make it real, and Aiden wasn’t ready for that.

The day wore on. Customers drifted in and out, more shadows than people, buying cheap romances or self-help guides. Kaela lingered for hours, sprawled in the corner with a book, tossing comments at him whenever the silence grew too heavy. It was ordinary, comfortable, grounding. For a while, Aiden almost forgot the river.

Until night fell.

The city outside seemed restless, humming with some invisible current. Aiden locked the shop door after the last customer, drawing the curtains, eager to retreat upstairs to his small apartment above the store. He was halfway up the stairs when the bell above the door rang again.

He froze.

He had locked it.

Slowly, he turned.

Lucien stood in the doorway, the faint streetlight painting his hair in molten silver, his presence filling the narrow shop until it felt suffocating. He closed the door behind him without a sound, and the air shifted as if obeying him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Aiden said, voice low.

“Shouldn’t I?” Lucien stepped closer, movements fluid, deliberate. His coat shimmered like liquid shadow. “I came to see you.”

Aiden gripped the stair rail to steady himself. “Why?”

Lucien’s lips curved, not quite a smile. “Because you intrigue me.”

There it was again—that impossible intensity, the weight of his gaze like hands on Aiden’s skin. Heat rushed through him, unwelcome and undeniable.

“You don’t even know me,” Aiden whispered.

“I know enough.” Lucien reached out, brushing his fingers over the edge of a book on display. The motion was casual, but the way he lingered on it, as though sensing something beyond its cover, made Aiden shiver. “You hide here, behind paper and dust, waiting for a life that will never come to you.”

Anger sparked, sharp against the pull of attraction. “You think you know me because of one conversation?”

Lucien tilted his head, studying him. “I think I know you because I’ve been where you are. Standing still. Pretending it’s enough.”

Silence thickened between them. Outside, a siren wailed and faded. Aiden’s pulse raced, betraying him.

Kaela’s voice cut through the tension. “Aiden?”

She emerged from the back room, still holding the book she’d been reading. Her eyes flicked to Lucien, narrowing instantly. “Who the hell is this?”

The spell shattered.

Aiden’s throat tightened. “Kaela, this is—”

“Lucien,” the man supplied smoothly, bowing his head in mock politeness. “A… friend.”

Kaela didn’t return the courtesy. Her instincts were knives, and they all pointed at him. “Funny. Aiden doesn’t have friends I don’t know about.”

Lucien’s smile deepened. “Perhaps he does now.”

The tension crackled, sharp enough to cut. Aiden opened his mouth, desperate to defuse it, but Lucien’s gaze slid back to him, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“I’ll see you again,” Lucien murmured.

Then he was gone, slipping out the door as silently as he’d entered, leaving only the faint echo of his presence.

Kaela rounded on Aiden instantly. “What the hell was that?”

“I… don’t know,” Aiden admitted, which was somehow the truth and a lie all at once.

Kaela’s eyes softened, just slightly. “He’s dangerous. I don’t trust him.”

Aiden swallowed hard, the echo of silver eyes still burning in his memory. “Neither do I.”

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true.