LUCIAN'S P.O.V.
I stood in front of the mirror, taking a slow, measured breath. My fingers moved to straighten my collar, my movements tense, deliberate. I must have adjusted it three times already, but it still didn't feel right. My reflection stared back at me—a man hardened by countless battles, but the eyes... they were different tonight. Restless. Haunted. Facing enemies was second nature to me, but today was different. Today, I'd be facing Luke, Teresa's brother, and that thought gnawed at me like a wolf locked in a cage.
"About time," Ares rumbled in my mind, his tone accusing and cutting. "Luke should've been the first person you went to when Teresa disappeared. You know that, don't you?"
