Dominus Vane
The first thing I registered was the darkness. It wrapped around the apartment like a thick blanket—still, quiet, and too empty. My eyes adjusted slowly. The ceiling above me unfamiliar, the couch beneath me stiff and worn from use. My body ached, especially my side, where Lu had stitched me up like some broken doll.I sat up slowly with a sharp hiss, my hand instinctively reaching for my wound. Still tender. But it was healing. That meant he had taken care of me. Even when I didn't deserve it.The low hum of the city filtered through the windows, muffled behind glass. I glanced around. No movement. No Lu. The silence amplified the frantic rhythm of my own heart.“Sunshine?” I called softly, voice raspy from disuse. The nickname felt foreign on my tongue, a relic of a past life.Nothing.Then I saw it. A small stack of clothes neatly folded on the coffee table, beside it a note scrawled in familiar handwriting. My na
