(POV: Lucian & Nareth / Daelen & Irian)

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POV: Nareth Sol

The city had gone quiet, but his mind hadn’t.

Nareth sat in his car long after leaving Lucian’s apartment, rain tracing silver lines down the windshield. His hands gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled, his reflection staring back at him through the faint glow of the dashboard.

Someone else inside me.

Lucian’s words kept echoing—haunting, impossible, terrifying. He’d wanted answers for weeks, but now that one was dangling right in front of him, he didn’t know what to do with it.

Was Lucian losing his mind? Or was something darker at play?

A knock on the window startled him. He turned, finding Taviel leaning in, cap pulled low, mask hiding half his face.

“You look like hell,” Taviel said flatly when Nareth rolled down the glass.

“Thanks,” Nareth muttered. “You shouldn’t be here. People might—”

“Relax.” Taviel slid into the passenger seat. “The cameras are asleep. What happened?”

Nareth stared out at the road. “Lucian’s… changing. I don’t know who he is anymore.”

“Then find out,” Taviel said simply, but there was something dark in his tone. “Before you lose him for good.”

Nareth’s jaw tightened. Lose him. That thought alone made his chest twist painfully.

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POV: Lucian Mareis

Lucian sat on the edge of his bed, drenched in silence. The mirror across the room caught his reflection, but something about it felt… off.

The man staring back wasn’t him.

The eyes were his, but colder. The mouth, his, but curved with a faint smirk he wasn’t making.

He blinked. The reflection didn’t.

Lucian’s breath caught as the figure’s lips moved—You don’t belong here.

He stumbled backward, gasping, clutching his chest. The room seemed to spin, walls closing in. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the vision away, but the echo of that voice stayed.

You don’t belong here.

And in that whisper, Lucian finally understood—whatever had happened that night of the accident… it hadn’t ended. It had just begun.

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POV: Daelen Pryce

“Stop following me,” Irian said, his voice cold as glass.

Daelen smirked, stepping closer anyway. “If you wanted to be left alone, you wouldn’t keep walking where I am.”

Irian turned sharply, silver hair catching the light of the street lamps. “You think this is a game?”

“It started as one,” Daelen replied, too honestly. “Now I’m not so sure.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension was electric—too heavy, too close.

Daelen reached out, brushing his fingers against Irian’s wrist, the contact sending a shock through both of them. “You keep pretending you hate me, but your pulse says otherwise.”

Irian’s eyes narrowed, though his breath came faster. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” Daelen whispered, leaning closer. “But I want to.”

That silence again—the kind that spoke louder than words. Then Irian pushed him back, hard enough that Daelen stumbled, but not hard enough to break the invisible thread pulling them together.

“I told you,” Irian said, voice trembling. “Don’t follow me.”

But Daelen only smiled, watching him walk away. “You say that now, Omega… but you’ll come back.”

And for the first time, Irian wasn’t sure if he would.

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POV: Nareth Sol

The mirror of his phone lit up as Taviel spoke quietly beside him, words cutting through the heavy night.

“Nareth… whatever’s happening to Lucian—it’s not normal. You need to decide whether to save him… or survive him.”

Nareth stared out at the streetlights. The rain had started again, each drop steady as a heartbeat.

“I’m not letting him go,” he said finally.

“Even if he’s not the same person?”

Nareth’s gaze hardened. “Then I’ll love the stranger he’s become.”

And in the reflection of the window, the faintest shimmer of light flickered—like someone was watching them from the dark.