Lucas’s POV
The city never sleeps, but it breathes slower after midnight—its heartbeat softened, its pulse quieter, its shadows a little darker, a little thicker, as if waiting to be broken open by something that doesn’t belong. And that’s exactly what I was—a ghost stepping into the mortal world, stalking a scent that didn’t belong to it, wearing the kind of purpose that doesn’t waver, doesn’t pause, and certainly doesn’t ask permission to burn everything in its path.
It had been a month.
Thirty fucking days since Damon disappeared. Since the earth cracked open and swallowed the one piece of me that mattered. Since the scent of him was ripped from my world like flesh from bone. Since Selina stood there and told me what I should’ve known—that he was mine. And in all that time, I hadn’t stopped hunting.
I had memorized the man’s posture, his gait, and the unnatural way he avoided every camera lens without ever breaking stride. I didn’t know his name, but I knew his skill. He was traine
