27. Lost innocence

That night, far away from the bar, Cithara sat in her small, candlelit room, unable to sleep. Her heart refused to quiet, each thump against her ribs louder than the last. She had spent years in loneliness, yet tonight was different. There was a weight in the air—a shadow pressing against her chest—that she could not name. Her hands trembled as she gripped the hem of her dress. What is this unease? she wondered. Something was wrong. Deeply, terribly wrong. Then she felt it. A presence. She turned sharply, the hairs on her neck rising. From the darkness beyond her doorway, a figure emerged. Lucian. His steps were deliberate, and his eyes… His eyes were not the same as the ones she had seen in the cave that morning. They were darker now, gleaming with something insatiable. Hunger. Thirst. Cithara’s breath caught, and she pressed a hand to her chest to steady her pounding heart. “What do you want?” she whispered. Lucian moved closer, his shadow stretching long across the room, swallowing