CHAPTER FOUR
Lucien felt it before he even entered the market square.
Magic—raw, bright, untrained—was pulsing through the city. Not fully awake, not yet, but enough.
He stopped mid-step, letting the crowd flow around him. The air carried a faint echo of someone else's presence. Rowan.
He had been here. Close. Watching.
Lucien's eyes narrowed. He moved quietly, keeping to the shadows. The square was nearly empty now. Stalls stood abandoned, lanterns burning low. Something had been taken—or claimed.
One of the charm stalls was missing a piece. Bone and stone, carefully arranged… one space empty.
Rowan had chosen well. Lucien's hand twitched at his side, but he forced himself to remain still. Rowan's magic was sharp, deliberate, controlling. Dangerous.
"You're late," a voice said softly from the shadows.
Lucien didn't turn.
"I followed your trail," Rowan continued, amused. "You wanted that."
"I didn't come here to play," Lucien said, his voice quiet. "Not with her."
Rowan's smile widened slightly. "She's waking faster than I expected. That's all."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "You don't get to decide anything about her."
Rowan shrugged, calm as ever. "I'm not deciding. I'm observing. That's all."
Lucien stepped closer. The air grew tense, heavier, as though it knew a fight was coming—even if only in thought.
"She'll choose," Rowan said. "They always do."
"And if she chooses wrong?" Lucien asked.
Rowan's eyes flicked toward the rooftops, toward the narrow street Lily had vanished down earlier. Then back to Lucien.
"Then I'll deal with it," he said simply. "Like I always do."
Before Lucien could respond, Rowan melted into the shadows, disappearing into the thinning crowd.
Lucien stood alone, sensing the faint echo of Lily's magic still lingering in the square. Untamed. Untaught. Growing faster than it should.
Rowan would not wait.
Lucien turned away, stepping back into the night. Watching felt wrong. Waiting felt wrong. For the first time in centuries, he felt like he was already too late.