The room reeked of iron and rot.
Chains clinked against the stone floor as the girl stirred—her breath shallow, chest rising like a broken metronome. Her name was Evelyn Locke. And she knew this was the last place she'd ever see.
It hadn't started like this. No. It started with curiosity, same as Mia. Same fearless fire in her veins, same itch to chase the impossible. She had followed whispers into the dark, thinking herself brave.
She hadn't realized the dark could whisper back.
The cell was old. Ancient. Not built by Dusk. Older than him. These tunnels ran beneath Nocturne like veins under skin, built long before the city rose above them. And in these veins, blood still flowed.
She heard it again—that sound. That crawling, wet sound that scraped at the back of her skull like a nail across glass.
Not footsteps.
Not breathing.
Something worse.
She turned her head slowly.
A man crouched in the corner, if you could call it that. Thin as smoke, pale as ash, with eyes so black they swallowed light. His body twisted unnaturally, bones cracking as he stood, like he'd forgotten how to be human. His voice came next, slick and wet like a whisper in water.
"Pretty little thing… still breathing…"
Evelyn coughed blood. "You're not… Dusk…"
The creature smiled. Too many teeth. "No. No no no. Not him. He keeps his pets in glass towers. I prefer cages and screams."
"Then what do you want with me?"
The creature shivered with delight. "You saw too much. Dug too deep. But I don't want to kill you, Evelyn. No…"
He knelt beside her, brushing tangled hair from her face with fingers that smelled of decay.
"I want you to remember."
His eyes burned into hers—unblinking, ancient, inhuman.
And suddenly—
She was back on the street, running. No, she was a child. No, a soldier. No, burning. Screaming. Drowning. Centuries of memory flooded into her. She saw temples collapse, kingdoms rise and fall, blood spilled in every era by monsters that wore human skin by day and something far worse by night.
And she saw him.
Not Dusk.
The one before him.
Lucien.
The name carved itself into her mind like fire.
And just before she passed out again, Evelyn heard the creature hiss:
"Tell Dusk his past is waking. And it's hungry."
Elsewhere…
Mia jolted upright in bed, gasping.
The dream clung to her skin like oil. She didn't believe in visions. She didn't believe in fate. But she felt it, deep in her marrow.
Something was coming.
And Alexander Dusk wasn't the only monster walking Nocturne's streets.