“Stop.”Lucien said the word under his breath, more plea than command, as his hand brushed the stone wall.The moment his fingers made contact, the ache in his chest receded again — not abruptly this time, but as if something unseen were gently loosening its grip.His breath stuttered.“No,” he whispered. “Not again.”The corridor stretched ahead of him, dim and ancient, the air thick with old magic and something else — something warmer, quieter. The sealed door he had turned away from earlier stood open now.That alone should have sent him running.Lucien stared at the darkened archway, heart pounding not with pain, but with a deep, unfamiliar tension that coiled low in his gut.His wolf did not protest.It leaned forward.Lucien swallowed hard.“This is wrong,” he told himself — told the silence, told the stone, told the unseen pull curling insistently around his spine.His feet moved anyway.Each step toward the passage eased the pressure in his chest further, until by the time he
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