Chapter 81: The Ghost of My Past**
Seraphina pressed her back against the cold stone wall of the alleyway, her heartbeat a deafening drum in her ears. She clutched the *Origin Relic* tightly, her fingers trembling.
Lucian was here.
He had seen her.
And now, he was looking for her.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as she forced herself to stay calm. She had escaped far worse than this. She had survived imprisonment, betrayal, and the relentless grasp of fate itself. She wouldn’t let a moment of weakness cost her everything now.
But this wasn’t just anyone searching for her.
It was *Lucian.*
And for the first time in a long while, fear wasn’t the only thing making her hands shake.
She risked a glance around the edge of the alley. He stood just a few feet away, gripping the scarf she had dropped, his expression unreadable. The fabric looked small, fragile in his hands, but his knuckles were white, his grip unrelenting.
*"Come out,"* his voice carried through the empty space, softer than she expected. *"Please."*
Seraphina’s breath caught.
He sounded *broken.*
She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t let this affect her. She couldn’t afford to be weak.
*Move, Seraphina.*
She turned on her heel, stepping carefully to avoid making noise. She had memorized the alleyways of Eldoria long ago—before her capture, before she had been taken from this place. It wouldn’t be difficult to slip away unnoticed.
Or so she thought.
A loose stone shifted beneath her boot.
Lucian’s head snapped in her direction.
Seraphina cursed under her breath.
And then—
*"Seraphina!"*
His voice was raw, desperate.
She didn’t wait. She ran.
\---
Lucian’s heart slammed against his ribs as Seraphina bolted from the alleyway, her black cloak billowing behind her.
He didn’t hesitate.
He sprinted after her.
The marketplace had calmed after his earlier arrival, but there were still enough people for her to weave through easily, slipping past stalls and merchants with an agility that left him breathless.
But he knew these streets just as well as she did.
*She’s not escaping me this time.*
He pushed forward, shoving past startled bystanders. A vendor shouted as he nearly toppled a basket of fruit, but Lucian didn’t care. His eyes were locked on one thing and one thing only:
Seraphina.
She was quick—too quick—but he had the advantage of strength and endurance. She wouldn’t outrun him forever.
"Stop running!" he called, frustration and something dangerously close to *pain* threading through his voice. "Seraphina, please!"
She didn’t stop.
Didn’t even hesitate.
Lucian growled under his breath. He didn’t want to do this, but she left him no choice.
He reached for the dagger strapped to his side and, in one swift movement, sent it flying.
It struck the wooden post just inches from where she was about to turn, causing her to recoil in surprise. That second of hesitation was all he needed.
He lunged.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him.
Seraphina gasped, struggling violently.
"Let go of me!" she spat, twisting in his grip.
"Not until you talk to me!" Lucian snarled.
She moved faster than he expected, her elbow slamming into his ribs. He grunted, his grip loosening just enough for her to break free.
Seraphina stumbled forward, but before she could take off again, Lucian grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around to face him.
And then—
They were too close.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Lucian *saw* her.
The fire in her silver eyes.
The raw emotions swirling beneath the surface.
The exhaustion, the desperation—*the pain.*
"Lucian, please," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Something inside him shattered.
He could see it now—how much she had suffered.
And yet, despite everything, despite the months of separation and the countless questions that tormented him, he still wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go.
"Why?" he rasped. "Why are you *here*?"
Seraphina averted her gaze. "I can’t tell you that."
Lucian let out a bitter laugh, stepping back but refusing to release her wrist. "Of course, you can’t. You never do, do you? You just—" His voice broke. "You just disappear, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?"
Seraphina’s jaw clenched. "I had no choice."
"Then tell me why!" His grip on her wrist tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her feel how much this was tearing him apart.
Seraphina shook her head. "It’s complicated."
Lucian exhaled sharply, his patience slipping. "Then *uncomplicate* it."
Her eyes met his again, and this time, he saw something new in them.
Guilt.
Regret.
And something else—something that made his breath catch.
*Longing.*
"I…" she hesitated, her throat working as if trying to swallow down the words.
For a moment, just a moment, he thought she might actually tell him.
Then she did the one thing he wasn’t prepared for.
She stepped closer.
And whispered, "I’m sorry."
Lucian’s entire world tilted.
He barely had time to process what was happening before she placed her free hand against his chest—
And a rush of *magic* exploded between them.
A blinding light flashed, and Lucian’s body went rigid. His grip on her slackened. His mind swam with dizziness.
She was using her power on him.
*No.*
He fought against the pull, tried to hold on to her—
But she was already gone.
When his vision cleared, Lucian found himself alone in the alleyway, the ghost of her warmth still lingering in the space she had stood just seconds ago.
And in his hand, the only thing left behind—
Her scarf.
Lucian’s fingers curled around the fabric.
A choked, humorless laugh escaped his lips.
She had run from him again.
Just like before.
Just like *always.*
He should have known better.
Should have expected it.
And yet, despite everything, despite the *ache* settling deep in his chest—
He still wasn’t ready to let her go.
Not this time.
Not ever.