Just as Lucien's lips brushed hers, the heavy sound of boots echoed through the hallway outside the room. Both of them froze, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them.
"Lucien," Aria whispered, her voice barely audible, her wide eyes darting toward the door.
He didn't move, his fingers still cradling her face, his thumb resting against her trembling lips. A storm brewed in his dark eyes, confusion, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.
What was he doing? The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, sending his pulse racing for reasons he refused to acknowledge. She was Aria, his foster sister the one he hated, the one he had despised for years, dismissing her as a weak, burdensome presence in their lives. And yet, here he was, unable to pull away, unable to deny the heat coursing through his veins at the mere thought of her. It felt like something was pulling him to her, but he didn't understand.
