Latea

Lucian’s breath is warm against Aurora’s skin as he presses a lingering kiss to her inner thigh. Her breath hitches, fingers threading through his hair as he trails soft, open-mouthed kisses along her skin, taking his time. He wants her to feel everything, to savor every touch, every flick of his tongue.

She trembles beneath him, her head falling back against the wall as a soft whimper escapes her lips. Lucian’s hands tighten on her hips, holding her steady as he kisses her deeply, as if worshiping her. He lingers, drawing slow circles with his tongue, savoring the way she shudders in response.

"Lucian," she breathes, her voice barely a whisper.

He hums against her, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through her veins. She presses her lips together to stifle her moans, but he notices, his grip tightening slightly. He doesn’t want her to hold back—he wants to hear her, to know she’s unraveling beneath his touch.

As she nears her peak, her fingers clutch at his shoulders, her body tensing. He can feel it in the way she trembles, the way her breaths turn ragged. With one last flick of his tongue, she gasps, her entire body arching as pleasure crashes over her like a wave. Lucian doesn’t stop—he soothes her through it, slow and gentle, until she finally sags against him, breathless.

He rises to his feet, pulling her into his arms. Her body melts into his, her forehead resting against his chest as she tries to catch her breath. He strokes a hand down her back, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

"That was quite the apology," she murmurs, her voice drowsy.

Lucian chuckles, tilting her chin up so he can see her face. "Glad you picked up on that."

Aurora smiles faintly, her eyelids heavy as she exhales softly. "I've missed you."

Something tightens in Lucian’s chest at her words. He cups her face, running his thumb over her cheek. "Come to bed with me," he murmurs. "I just want to hold you tonight."

She nods, slipping her hand into his as he leads her toward the bedroom.

They fall asleep wrapped in each other, a sense of peace settling between them.

But peace never lasts.

A sudden, sharp bang jolts Lucian awake. His senses sharpen immediately, years of instinct kicking in as he sits up, reaching for the gun on the nightstand.

Aurora startles awake beside him, her eyes wide in the darkness. "Lucian?" she whispers.

"Shh," he soothes, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed. He moves toward the door, gun steady in his grip. "Lock yourself in the bathroom. Don’t open the door until I come for you."

Her lips part, as if she wants to argue, but she nods, slipping from the bed and hurrying toward the en suite. The door clicks shut behind her just as heavy footsteps echo through the apartment.

Lucian moves into the hallway, his body tense, every sense on high alert. The dim glow from the city lights outside casts long shadows across the walls, flickering as figures shift in the darkness. He rounds the corner, catching sight of Enzo and Gabriele locked in a deadly fight against masked intruders.

Gunfire shatters the silence.

Lucian doesn’t hesitate—he takes aim and fires.

The next few moments blur into chaos. The sharp crack of bullets, the grunts of pain, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air. A figure lunges at him from the side, catching him off guard. An arm wraps around his throat, tightening like a vice.

Lucian grits his teeth, giving himself half a second to assess before twisting sharply, using his attacker’s own momentum to throw him over his shoulder. The man lands with a thud, but before he can recover, Lucian fires a single shot.

The body stills.

He whirls just in time to see Gabriele struggling against two men, his gun out of reach. Lucian lifts his weapon, ready to take the shot—

But he’s too slow.

The last remaining intruder knocks Lucian’s legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. His gun skids across the floor, too far to reach. Before he can move, the attacker looms over him, a knife glinting in the dim light—

Lucian braces himself, muscles coiling as he prepares to strike.

He won’t go down without a fight.

The tiny bathroom is barely big enough to pace more than a few steps in either direction, but nonetheless, I maintain a steady march back and forth. The constant movement is a more comforting distraction than sinking to the floor. That would feel like giving up, and I’ll be damned if I let them turn me into a cowering damsel.

Gunshots ring through the apartment, each deafening bang rattling my bones. My heart pounds so hard against my ribs, I’m sure it’s about to crack them open and burst through. The drumming of continuous shots is accompanied by aggressive shouting, the voices growing louder. My hands start to shake, clammy with anxious sweat as I grip my shoulders beneath the thin sleeves of my t-shirt.

I had fallen asleep in Lucian’s arms, feeling—for once—like we were back on the same page. And now, these maggots have come to destroy that calm, to convince my husband he was right to try and keep me locked away at home.

Another gunshot explodes in rapid fire. I flinch violently, my eardrums ringing as the sound threatens to blow them apart entirely. Before I can even take another breath, an ear-splitting crack splinters the air. The bathroom door collapses inward as a large black boot kicks it from its hinges.

A piercing scream rips its way out of my lungs as a towering man in a black balaclava bursts into my hiding place.

“There you are, little Luciano bitch,” he snarls, fisting gloved fingers into my hair.

I thrash against his hold, but the pure muscle and aggression of the man twice my size completely overpower me. He drags me forward, my struggling useless as terror sluices through my veins like chipped ice. A fresh bolt of fear spikes my system, sending my thoughts spiraling to Lucian. Is he still fighting? Is he still alive?

I don’t have time to scream again before the cold bite of a pistol presses against my temple. Every muscle in my body locks up in pure panic. This has to be it. This is how I’ll die.

Then, suddenly—

A shot blasts through the air, so close that for a moment, I can’t even register what’s happened. My attacker’s grip goes slack. The weight of his body crashes into me, knocking the wind from my lungs as we hit the floor. I’m barely able to blink through the blur of tears and adrenaline before I’m being hauled upright, strong arms wrapping around me.

Lucian.

He clutches me tight, his hands sweeping over my body, searching for injuries. His usually level voice cracks with naked panic. “Aurora! Are you hurt?”

I can’t speak. The only sound I can make is a strangled sob as I grip his torn shirt in trembling fists.

“Shhh, baby,” he soothes, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. We’re alive.”

I bury my face into his neck, his warmth the only thing keeping me from unraveling completely. But then—

My eyes fall on the slumped form of Enzo. Blood pools beneath him, seeping into the carpet, his vacant eyes staring at nothing. My breath hitches in my throat.

“No,” I whisper, then louder. “No! Enzo, no!”

I claw at Lucian’s back, as if I might break free and reach Enzo. As if I could somehow bring him back. But Lucian only holds me tighter.

“He’s gone, Aurora.” His voice is solemn, his own grief bleeding through.

A fresh sob escapes me as he scoops me into his arms. I don’t fight him this time. I can’t. My body is too weak, my mind too numb.

The next thing I know, we’re in the car, the city lights giving way to stretches of darkness. The heat is on full blast, but I still feel frozen to my bones. Lucian keeps a protective grip on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles, but neither of us speak. There’s nothing left to say.

When we reach home, Lucian carries me inside, straight to the bathroom. He sets me on the closed toilet lid before turning the taps on over the deep bathtub. The sound of rushing water fills the silence. I sit motionless, watching as he peels his ruined shirt over his head, revealing a gash along his bicep, blood smeared down his arm. I don’t even have the strength to react.

With quiet efficiency, he pulls my own shirt over my head, helping me to my feet to rid me of the rest. His movements are gentle, his touch careful, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the tight coil of frustration in his muscles. He’s blaming himself.

Once I’m settled in the warm water, he kneels beside the tub, massaging shampoo into my hair. He’s still murmuring soft reassurances, but there’s an edge to his voice now, a hint of something darker.

“I never should have taken you outside the compound,” he mutters suddenly, his hands tightening in my hair before he catches himself. He exhales sharply, staring into the water. “If I’d kept you safe like I wanted to, tonight would never have happened. Enzo would still be alive.”

The frost in my chest cracks. A slow, simmering rage seeps through.

I lift my head, voice raw. “What did you just say?”

Lucian’s hands curl into fists on either side of my thighs, his jaw clenched so tight it might shatter. “This is my fault, Aurora.” His voice is quiet, almost desperate. “I failed you.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “And what about me, Lucian? Do you think I wanted this? That I wanted Enzo to die?” My breath shudders out. “You think locking me away would have changed that?”

His eyes flick up to mine, searching. Slowly, he lays a hand against my cheek, thumb brushing along my damp skin.

“I just want you safe,” he murmurs.

I close my eyes.

It’s too late for that