CHAPTER 3 — The Call Beneath Her Skin
1361 Words
Elara barely made it back to her apartment.
Her legs shook the entire train ride home, her skin buzzing with an energy she didn’t have a name for. She stumbled through her door, tossed her bag to the floor, and slid down the wall until she was sitting, breathless.
Her pulse refused to calm.
Her wrist still tingled where Lucian touched her.
Her neck felt warm—hot, actually—like his breath still clung to her skin.
She told herself she should be terrified.
But beneath the fear… something else simmered.
Something that made absolutely no sense.
Want.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Stop. Stop thinking about him.
But her body didn’t listen.
Every time she inhaled, she swore she smelled him again—clean rain and cold stone. Her heart beat harder. Her fingertips tingled. Her entire body felt… wrong. Different.
No. Not different.
Awakened.
A sharp throb pulsed behind her ribs, making her gasp.
“What is happening to me?”
Silence answered.
Then—her lights flickered.
She froze.
The apartment temperature dropped. Not normal cold—unnatural, the same way Vale Industries felt when she arrived that morning.
Her breath misted in the air.
“No, no, no—”
A shadow moved in the corner.
Not a person.
Not a trick of light.
A shape.
Tall, twisted, shifting, as if made of smoke and teeth.
Elara’s throat closed. Her fingers scrambled for anything to defend herself with—her phone, a book, a lamp—anything.
The shadow growled.
Growled.
Her heart stopped.
The sound was wrong—inhuman, layered, vibrating through the floorboards. It crawled up her spine and squeezed her chest.
She couldn’t scream.
Couldn’t move.
It slithered closer. The dark mass formed limbs… claws… a distorted jaw opening far too wide.
Elara backed up until her shoulders hit the wall, her breath shaking.
“Please—please don’t—”
The shadow lunged.
Elara flinched, raising her arms to shield herself—
—when a violent crack split the air.
A force slammed into the shadow, sending it crashing into the opposite wall, shrieking like metal tearing.
Elara gasped and looked up.
He was standing in front of her.
Lucian.
No suit. No corporate mask.
His eyes glowed silver—bright, merciless, predatory.
His presence filled the room like a living storm.
His voice was a low snarl, deeper than she’d ever heard, shaking the air itself.
“Don’t touch her.”
The shadow creature tried to flee, but Lucian moved faster than sight. One second he was still—the next, he was grabbing the creature by its throat. Black smoke curled around his fingers as if burned.
Lucian’s teeth sharpened—subtly, too sharp to be human.
Elara stared, horror and fascination twisting together.
“What… what is that?” she whispered.
Lucian didn’t look at her.
“A hound of the Rift,” he hissed. “Drawn to blood it should never smell.”
The creature screeched, clawing at him.
Lucian crushed its throat with one hand.
The shadow evaporated into smoke, then vanished completely.
Silence.
Elara realized she was shaking hard enough that her knees knocked together.
Lucian turned toward her slowly.
His eyes were still glowing.
His breathing too deep, too heavy—like he was holding something back with sheer will.
Elara pressed into the wall. “Wh-why are things like that coming after me?”
His jaw flexed like the question pained him.
“Because you shouldn’t exist,” he said softly. “And because your presence has awakened something that should have remained buried.”
He stepped closer.
Elara tried to stand, but her legs barely obeyed. Lucian reached her before she fell, his hands catching her by the waist.
His touch burned.
She gasped.
Lucian stiffened.
His fingers tightened—just slightly—before he forced himself to let go.
He exhaled sharply, as if restraining something violent and hungry.
“Your blood…” He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once. “There is something in you. Something old. Something impossible.”
Elara swallowed. “What does that mean?”
Lucian lifted his gaze, those silver eyes cutting into her.
“It means you are not just human.”
Her heart skipped.
He stepped closer again, slowly, watching her reaction.
“Something dormant in you woke today. And every creature that senses it will come for you—drawn to your blood, your heartbeat, your scent.”
Elara’s face heated. “My… scent?”
Lucian’s eyes darkened. “Yes.”
The way he said it sent heat spiraling through her stomach.
No. No. She could not react like this.
She pushed herself up straighter and glared. “If I’m suddenly in danger, the least you can do is tell me why.”
Lucian’s lips tightened. “Because you are tied to a prophecy that should have died centuries before you were born.”
Elara blinked. “A prophecy?”
“It does not matter now,” he growled. “What matters is that creatures from the Rift now sense you. And they will keep coming.”
He stepped so close her breath caught.
His fingers lifted toward her face—hesitating—and then brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Elara shivered violently.
Lucian inhaled sharply.
His voice dropped to something rough, almost pained.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
Elara’s pulse fluttered.
“What do you mean?”
He closed his eyes for half a second, as if fighting himself.
“I have lived a very long time,” he murmured. “Long enough to believe nothing could ever affect me again. But the moment I saw you—in the hallway—the bond reacted.”
"The… bond?"
Lucian’s eyes opened, glowing brighter.
“The Call.”
She swallowed. “What is that?”
Lucian’s gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, to her rapid heartbeat pulsing at her throat.
His voice was a whisper edged with hunger.
“A connection older than kingdoms. Older than languages. Something that chooses for us.”
Elara’s breath broke. “Are you saying you think I’m—”
“Don’t say it.” Lucian’s voice sharpened. “Not yet.”
“But—”
His hand suddenly cupped her jaw, tilting her face up to his.
Elara froze.
The world narrowed to silver eyes and burning breath.
“You still don’t understand,” Lucian whispered. His thumb brushed her lower lip. “If the Call is real… if you truly are what I think you are…”
His expression darkened—desire mixing with fear.
“Then I am not the only one who will come for you.”
Elara’s blood ran cold.
“Meaning what?”
Lucian leaned in—his voice a dark promise against her ear.
“Meaning every creature in my world will hunt you.”
Her breath hitched.
“And they will do far worse than whisper ‘mine’.”
A chill rolled down her spine.
Lucian pulled back slightly, eyes sharp, feral.
“You’re going to stay with me tonight.”
Elara’s eyes widened. “What? No—I’m not—”
“You are not safe here,” he growled. “Not for a single second.”
She opened her mouth to argue—but a whispering sound filled the room.
Lucian’s head snapped toward the door.
Another shadow slid under the crack. Then another. And another.
Elara’s heart seized.
“Lucian—”
He grabbed her hand.
“Move.”
The shadows shrieked as they lunged.
Lucian pulled her against his chest, wrapping one arm around her waist—
—his other hand sliced through the air.
A silver flare burst from his palm, exploding in a wave that blasted the shadows back like a hurricane wind.
Elara clung to him, trembling.
Lucian’s voice rumbled against her ear.
“You see?” he whispered. “They’re already coming.”
He swept her up in his arms.
“Hold on.”
Elara grabbed his shoulders right as the world shattered into light—
—and they vanished.
- Writer
