The jet sliced through the clouds, silent and luxurious, but the cabin crackled with tension.
Zara sat near the window, watching the endless stretch of sky. Below them, Europe unfolded—miles of distance between her and everything she'd once known. And yet, the kiss in that war room still burned on her lips.
Lucien hadn't brought it up.
Neither had she.
But the silence between them wasn't empty—it was thick with everything unspoken.
He sat across from her, reviewing satellite logs and a sparse dossier on Prague contacts. Efficient. Detached. But every now and then, his eyes would flick up to her—too quickly to be casual, too often to be innocent.
"ETA is three hours," he said finally. "He was seen near Old Town. Disguised. Moving carefully."
Zara nodded. "Then we won't find him by chasing. We make him come to us."
Lucien raised a brow. "And how do you plan to do that?"
She met his gaze, cool and determined. "I know Caleb. He thrives on guilt. He won't ignore a ghost if it comes knocking."
Lucien leaned back, arms folded. "You'll bait him."
Zara gave a small nod. "He needs to believe I'm alone. Desperate. That he's still the trusted mentor I once idolized."
Lucien's jaw clenched. "I don't like the risk."
"I don't need you to like it. I need you to be ready when it works."
His silence was answer enough.
But then his gaze softened. "You're not the same girl he left behind, Zara."
"No," she said quietly. "I'm not."
There was a beat of stillness. Then Lucien stood, walked over, and crouched beside her seat.
Her pulse quickened.
His voice was low. "What are you really afraid of? That he won't talk—or that he will?"
Zara looked away, but he reached for her chin, turning her gently toward him.
"I've seen what silence does to people," he said. "And I've seen what the truth can destroy. But I've never seen anyone like you—standing at the edge, refusing to fall."
His fingers brushed her jaw, and her walls cracked just a little.
"I kissed you," he said, voice rough. "Not out of impulse. Not for control. Because you terrify me—in all the right ways."
Her breath caught.
"Lucien…"
He didn't give her a chance to finish.
He leaned in again, slower this time. Their lips met—softer now, but no less intense. His hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb brushing her cheek like she might disappear.
Zara melted into him.
But this time, she was the one who deepened the kiss, her hand sliding up his chest, gripping the front of his shirt. Her body remembered the tension, the fire—but her heart, damn it, was beginning to remember something else.
Safety.
He broke the kiss only when the pilot's voice crackled through the speakers.
"Descending now. Twenty minutes to Prague."
Lucien pulled back, breathing hard. "You still sure you want to do this?"
Zara nodded. "I need to look him in the eye. I need to hear him say it."
Lucien stood, straightened his suit, and reached out a hand.
"Then let's finish what your father started."
She took it.
The jet tilted slightly as it prepared to land—but neither of them noticed. Because in that moment, Zara Winters and Lucien Vale weren't just hunter and shadow.
They were storm and fire. And the world had no idea what was coming.
Cliffhanger: Caleb is close. But so is Ethan. And the passion between Zara and Lucien is growing too hot to bury much longer.