Dominic moved like someone who didn't need to run.
Each step was deliberate, measured. Like the space belonged to him. Like he'd waited years to reclaim it.
Lucien didn't speak.
Couldn't.
His fists clenched at his sides, every muscle locked tight. Like a man standing in a grave he thought he'd dug deep enough.
Riley watched them both. And she knew, instinctively, this wasn't just personal.
This was constructed.
Dominic's gaze slid to her.
She didn't flinch.
He smiled. Not cruel. Worse—familiar.
"Riley Voss," he said, as if reciting a fond memory. "You were sharper than the files said. More disciplined. I watched you train."
Her pulse ticked. "You were in the system."
"I helped build the system," Dominic replied. "Before Ashgrave took it underground. Before he started rewriting the definitions of 'loyalty' and 'acceptable collateral.'"
Lucien's voice finally broke through.
"What did she do to you?"
Dominic tilted his head slightly. "She gave me clarity."
"No," Lucien said, stepping forward. "She gave you modifications. That's not clarity. That's control."
"You of all people should know," Dominic said softly, "control is what we paid for."
Riley's hand dropped toward her coat—blade handle cold beneath her palm.
Dominic's eyes flicked to the motion. He didn't seem threatened. He just watched.
"I'm not here to kill you," he said. "Not yet."
Riley's tone was flat. "Then what are you here for?"
"To remind him."
His gaze returned to Lucien.
"To remind him what he left behind. And what it cost to survive him."
Lucien looked stricken—like the air had gone out of his chest but the pressure was still there.
Dominic took one more step.
The lights overhead flickered.
And then, just loud enough to curdle the air:
"This wasn't your trap, Riley. It was always mine."
Lucien didn't speak.
Not when Dominic stepped within ten feet. Not when he began reciting moments that should've died with the old labs. Not even when he said her name—the girl from Prague. The one Lucien buried without a body.
"Do you remember what she said?" Dominic asked.
Lucien flinched.
Riley watched the twitch in his jaw. The way his fingers curled like they were trying not to form fists.
"She said it wasn't the bite," Dominic went on. "It was the silence after."
Lucien didn't answer.
Riley had never seen him like this.
Not angry.
Just… stripped.
Dominic tilted his head, expression unreadable. "You always thought I hated you for what you did to me. But I don't."
Lucien's voice was low. "Don't lie to me."
"I don't hate you," Dominic said. "I am you."
The words landed with a kind of dull violence.
"You left," Dominic continued. "Tried to forget. Started playing human. But I remember everything. The screams. The tests. The deal."
Lucien took a step forward. "That wasn't your choice."
"No," Dominic said, quiet. "But it's mine now."
Riley finally broke in. "What deal?"
Dominic smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Lucien brought me to Juno. Said I was loyal. Said I could handle the early trials. And when they failed… he left."
Lucien turned sharply. "That's not how it happened."
But even as he said it, his voice broke around the edges.
Dominic's smile faded.
"You don't get to forget me, Lucien," he said. "You built me. Just like you built the first serum. Just like you built the lie that you're better now."
Riley didn't know what to say.
Because she believed Dominic.
But she didn't want to.
And Lucien—
Lucien looked like a man staring at the grave he never visited.
Because he didn't want to see what climbed out of it.
Lucien moved without warning.
A blur of shadow and bone and fury, crossing the distance between them like a snapped leash.
His fist cracked into Dominic's jaw. The sound echoed down the dead tunnel like thunder under stone.
Dominic staggered a step.
Then smiled.
Not surprised.
Not hurt.
Satisfied.
Riley was already moving—blade drawn, body low. She darted to the left flank, slashing for Dominic's side.
He twisted away—too fast, too fluid. Almost like he expected it.
Lucien lunged again, this time aiming low. A feint. A sweep. A hook to the ribs that should've broken bone.
But Dominic caught the blow.
With one hand.
And didn't let go.
He leaned in close, gripping Lucien's forearm, mouth near his ear.
"You hit like you're still trying to be forgiven."
Lucien growled and twisted out of the hold, using the momentum to send Dominic crashing into a rusted support beam. It buckled.
Riley didn't wait. She drove her blade forward, but Dominic ducked—smooth, like water parting around steel—and swept her legs out from under her.
She landed hard. Rolled. Came up slashing.
"Why aren't you fighting back?" she snapped.
Dominic smiled again—blood on his teeth now.
"I am."
He turned just as Lucien came in again. Dodged. Parried. Let Lucien hit him once, twice. Then turned the third strike aside like it was a lesson.
"You haven't gotten stronger," he said calmly. "You've just gotten softer."
Lucien was breathing hard now—too hard.
"You want me to kill you?" he barked.
"No," Dominic said. "I want you to see me."
He caught Lucien's next punch and twisted his arm, hard, until Lucien was on one knee.
"You keep trying to run from who you were," Dominic whispered. "But all she wants is for you to come back and finish what you started."
Riley surged forward—blade angled, silver flashing.
Dominic released Lucien just in time to avoid the strike.
Her knife sliced his cheek.
And he grinned like that was the real beginning.
Dominic didn't flinch as Riley's blade sliced his cheek.
He touched the blood with two fingers. Looked at it. Smiled.
"Still silver," he said. "I'm flattered."
Riley circled back toward Lucien, who had righted himself—shoulders tense, eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.
Dominic's voice stayed low. Unshaken. "You remember what we said, Lucien? In the early days. That monsters aren't born—they're assembled. One piece at a time."
Lucien spat blood.
Dominic kept going.
"You thought Juno manipulated me. Forced me into it. That I was some broken, twisted echo of who I was before."
He spread his arms.
"This?" He tapped his chest. "I chose it. Every graft. Every injection. Every serum revision. While you were busy trying to quit, I was busy getting better."
Lucien growled. "You were dying."
"No," Dominic said, his voice soft. "I was becoming."
He turned toward Riley now.
"She thinks you're the one who changed him," he said. "That you showed him restraint. Mercy. Love."
Riley's blade didn't drop. "She's wrong."
Dominic grinned. "Oh, I know. He was broken before you ever met him."
Lucien launched forward again—too fast this time, too reckless.
Dominic caught him by the collar and slammed him against a pillar.
The sound cracked.
"You don't want to admit it," he said, face inches from Lucien's. "But you loved the work. The trials. The evolution. You didn't leave because of the bodies. You left because you knew what it was turning you into."
Lucien choked, voice raw. "I left because I still had a soul."
"Do you?" Dominic asked.
And for just a second—
Riley saw Lucien hesitate.
Only for a breath.
But it was there.
Dominic released him.
Stepped back.
"This is what they made us," he said, gaze flicking between the two of them. "And you can lie to her all you want. But you can't lie to me."
Then he vanished into the tunnel.
Not running.
Just… gone.
Like a ghost Lucien had never really buried.
The sound of Dominic's footsteps vanished like vapor down the tunnel.
The echo didn't fade. It lingered.
Lucien didn't move.
Riley pressed her hand against her side. Blood seeped through her fingers—warm, thick. The cut wasn't deep, but it burned.
Not silver-burn. Not vampire.
Just pain.
Lucien finally looked at her.
"Let me see," he said.
She shook her head. "I've had worse."
He didn't argue.
She didn't want him close right now anyway.
They stood in silence—both facing the tracks. Neither facing each other.
Finally, Riley spoke.
"You didn't deny any of it."
Lucien exhaled, slow. "Would it matter?"
"No," she said. "But I want to hear it anyway."
He nodded once. "I brought Dominic into the program. I vouched for him. He wanted to push limits, and I let him."
He turned toward her. Not defensive. Not apologetic.
Just bare.
"When it got out of hand, I left. I told myself it was mercy. That walking away meant I was better than the ones who stayed."
He paused.
"It wasn't mercy."
Riley met his eyes. "Then what was it?"
Lucien didn't flinch.
"It was cowardice."
Riley didn't speak for a long time.
Then she walked past him, slowly, and sat down on the edge of the platform, wincing as she adjusted her weight.
Lucien followed after a beat.
Sat beside her.
They didn't look at each other.
The silence was softer now.
Not forgiveness.
Just quiet.
"I've killed people," she said finally. "Innocents. By mistake. By order."
Lucien turned slightly. "And?"
"That wasn't the worst thing I've done."
He nodded.
"I know," he said. "Me either."