Ken stood frozen as Lucien crossed the threshold. His body trembled with such violence that the leather-bound notebook slipped from his nerveless fingers, hitting the floor with a heavy, final thud. The man he thought he was beginning to understand—the man he had allowed into his bed and his heart—had fundamentally shifted. To Ken, Lucien no longer looked like a lover; he looked like a predator draped in a human mask.
"You... you are..." Ken's voice was a jagged whisper. He took two stumbling steps back, his knees hitting the edge of the couch before he collapsed onto the cushions. "What are you... Lucien?!"
