“No one else knows it exists,” he goes on. “Not the Guild. This has been an Ashthorne Hall secret that’s been kept for years.” He glances around the room, his gaze lingering on the weapons like they were old friends. “It’s where I prepare when the fight I’m walking into… is one I can’t afford to lose.”
The weight of the words settles over me. This isn’t just a storage room. This is a lifeline. A final card to play when everything else fails.
“And you’re showing me?” I ask, my voice lower now, matching his.
He meets my eyes. “Because one day, you may need it.”
My chest feels heavy. He isn’t just giving me access to a room. He’s giving me a piece of his contingency plan. His survival.
I let my gaze sweep over the racks again, the gleam of polished steel, the quiet hum of a locked world opening just for me.
“Thank you,” I say finally, because there’s nothing else I can say.
Lucian steps closer, his voice low enough that it’s almost a whisper. “Don’t thank me yet, Gracie. Just remember where it is. And if the day comes when you need it…”
His hand brushes the doorframe as he looks at me, something fierce flickering in his expression.
“…use everything in here, and don’t hold back.”
“Have you…” I hesitate, my eyes following the row of knives mounted like art, “…ever had to use it?”
My fingers trail along the edge of the workbench, the cool metal grounding me. Every weapon, every piece of gear here. Something tells me, this isn't just equipment. It was once a Hail Mary.
Lucian doesn’t answer right away. His gaze drifts over the racks, and for a moment, it’s like he isn’t standing here with me at all—like he’s somewhere else entirely.
“Once,” he says finally. There’s a weight to the word that makes my stomach flip.
I wait, silent, as he moves toward the armor on the wall. His hand rests on the chest plate, his thumb brushing a faint scratch in the metal. “It was before you were born. The kind of night you don’t come back from unless you’re willing to do things you can’t take back.”
His eyes flicker to mine, sharp and unflinching. “I survived. The others didn’t.”
I don’t ask for details. I don’t need them. Whatever happened that night is etched into him—in the way his jaw tightens, in the way his voice doesn’t waver even as the air between us grows heavier.
He steps closer to me, the scent of faint gun oil and his cologne filling the space. “I hope you never have to use it, Gracie. But if you do… go in ready to be ruthless. And you don’t walk out until the job is finished.”
The words settle in me like cold steel. I nod once, slow, committing the weight of this moment to memory.
10 DATE NIGHT
I’m halfway through curling my hair when Maeve flops onto my bed, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels in one hand and the kind of giddy grin that means she’s about to annoy me on purpose. Dakota takes a seat in one of my reading chairs, flipping through a magazine.
“So…” Maeve pops a pretzel into her mouth. “What are you wearing for your big romantic Christmas date with Jace?”
I give her a flat look in the mirror. “It’s not a big romantic Christmas date. We’re just… going out.”
Noah’s words loop in my head, the only thing keeping me from getting back in bed and pulling the covers over my head.
He’d want you to be happy.
Maeve gasps like I just insulted her entire bloodline. “It is Christmas in the city with a tall, broody, dangerously hot man who is very much in love with you?—”
I spin in my chair. “He’s not?—”
She points at me with a pretzel. “—and you’re telling me that’s not a date straight out of a Hallmark movie? Honey, there will be twinkling lights. There will be hot chocolate. There will be lingering eye contact. You’re literally living my streaming-service-fueled fantasy.”
Dakota giggles. “She’s not wrong. Jace is crazy for you. Anyone can see it. Just the way he looks at you.” Dakota sighs, her magazine falling to her chest, “I want someone to look at me like that.”
“Don’t we all?” Maeve flops dramatically.
