Chapter 115

The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from the night before. I stood at the window, watching the city wake in a muted gray light. Streets were slick, reflections of neon signs shimmering in puddles, the hum of distant traffic a constant reminder of life moving forward even when danger lurked in every shadow.

Torin was already moving around the apartment, methodical as always, checking locks, inspecting doors, ensuring that every point of entry was secure. Even when he was meticulous like this, I felt a rush of warmth and protection, knowing that he was watching over me. My heart beat a little faster, not entirely from fear, but from the unrelenting intensity of having him so close, so present.

I poured coffee into my favorite mug, the warmth a small comfort against the chill of the morning. My fingers shook slightly as I lifted it, nerves taut. Lucien’s shadow hung over me, his obsession an invisible pressure pressing against every thought. He’s out there. He’s planning. He’s patient. Dangerous. Calculating. The words ran through my mind on a loop, and I felt that familiar coil of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

Torin approached quietly, hands sliding over my shoulders, a grounding touch that both soothed and ignited me. “Morning,” he murmured, voice low, eyes dark and focused. “Sleep okay?”

I nodded, taking a small sip of coffee. “Better than last night, I think.” My fingers traced the rim of the mug, nervously, though the tremor was more from adrenaline than caffeine. “But he’s… he’s still out there, isn’t he?”

Torin’s jaw tightened, eyes scanning the room once more, calculating, planning. “Yeah. And he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants. That’s the problem with him...he doesn’t see boundaries. Doesn’t respect limits. And he thinks obsession is entitlement.” His hands cupped mine briefly, thumbs brushing over my knuckles. “But we’ll be ready.”

I swallowed hard, leaning into him for a moment, letting his steady presence temper the fear in my chest. We’ll be ready, I repeated silently, trying to convince myself as much as I was trying to reassure him. The morning sun painted soft stripes across the floor, yet the shadows of the room felt too sharp, too long.

The phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the fragile calm. Torin’s eyes narrowed as he snatched it up. His expression darkened almost instantly, jaw tight. “It’s Casey,” he muttered, scanning the message. He turned to me, face set, voice low. “Movement. Lucien’s made a calculated strike. Nothing overt, but he’s testing someone connected to us.”

I felt the familiar churn of panic, stomach twisting. “Someone close?” I whispered, breath catching. Every instinct screamed that it could be anyone: a friend, an ally, someone who had unknowingly stepped too close to our orbit.

Torin nodded slowly, his expression grim. “We don’t know yet. But he’s feeling us out, trying to gauge reactions. That’s how he works, small moves, little provocations, to see how far he can push before we even notice.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, as if drawing strength from some invisible reserve. “We have to anticipate. And we have to act before he makes a bigger play.”

I hugged my mug tightly, drawing comfort from the heat. “And if we misstep?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, fingers brushing my hair from my face, eyes locking on mine. “We won’t. Not together. He underestimates us because he thinks obsession gives him power. But he hasn’t accounted for loyalty, strategy, or instinct. And he certainly hasn’t accounted for me.”

Despite the rising tension, I felt a swell of something else, determination, perhaps, a fragile sense of empowerment. We weren’t naive. We knew the stakes, and we knew the danger, but the trust I had in Torin, and in us, was absolute. We’ll face this. Together.

The rest of the morning passed in a tense blur of preparation. We went over contingency plans, safe routes, escape options, and allies to call if the situation escalated. Every scenario Torin described made my pulse race, the knowledge of Lucien’s potential actions a constant shadow at the edges of my consciousness. Yet, I learned to channel the fear into focus, letting the energy sharpen my mind rather than weaken it.

By mid-morning, we were both exhausted yet alert. I leaned against the counter, rubbing my temples, trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts. Torin joined me, silently passing a cup of water into my hands. I glanced up, catching the rare softness in his eyes. “You’re good at this,” I murmured, voice small. “Even when it’s terrifying.”

He smiled faintly, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. “I learned from the best,” he replied, a hint of humor threading through the tension. “And from experience.” His gaze flicked toward the window, scanning the streets beyond. “But don’t forget, you’re not just a bystander in this. Your instincts matter, your decisions matter, and your courage… it keeps me grounded.”

I felt a strange mix of pride and vulnerability, my chest tightening. “I’m terrified,” I admitted, voice husky. “But… I trust you. Completely.”

Torin stepped closer, resting a hand at the small of my back, the other brushing over mine. “And I trust you. Always. That’s why we’ll get through this. He can plan, calculate, obsess, but he can’t break what we’ve built. Not now. Not ever.”

We shared a quiet moment, the city humming beneath us, the threat of Lucien ever-present yet somehow muted by our resolve. For a fleeting moment, it was just the two of us, planning, strategizing, alive in our shared determination.

The afternoon shadows lengthened, the air growing cooler. I watched Torin move with fluid, deliberate precision, his focus unshakable. It was almost mesmerizing, a reminder of why I had fallen so hard for him, not just for the intensity and protection he offered, but for the mind that matched mine in every calculation, every plan.

Then, the doorbell rang. My stomach flipped. Instinctively, I glanced at Torin, who was already moving toward the door, eyes sharp, posture controlled but ready.

“Who is it?” I whispered, tension coiling anew.

“Let’s find out,” he murmured, voice calm but edged with steel. His hand rested briefly on my shoulder before he moved, a silent reassurance that we faced this together.

I stayed back, heart pounding, watching as he opened the door with measured caution. The figure beyond was small in the dim light, almost obscured, but relief surged as familiar features came into focus.

“It’s Jess,” Torin said after a moment, voice low but relieved. “He’s here to check in, make sure the bar’s secure and no one’s making moves on our allies.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, shoulders relaxing fractionally. But the vigilance never fully left me. Lucien’s shadow loomed somewhere beyond the city lights, unseen yet omnipresent, and the knowledge of his obsession gnawed at the edges of my calm.

Torin returned to my side, hand brushing mine. “See? We’re not alone. And we have options.”

I nodded, letting the reassurance settle, even as the tension simmered beneath. Together, we would face whatever Lucien threw at us next. And we would survive.

Because he might be patient. He might be dangerous. But he had underestimated the two of us: our bond, our strategy, and our refusal to be broken.

And that would be his mistake.