Chapter 3 Whispers Over Coffee

Saturday morning came with a soft drizzle and the gentle hum of the city beyond the tall glass windows of the café. Aurora sat in a corner booth with her knees tucked beneath her, sipping a cinnamon latte while raindrops played a muted song against the window beside her.

Calla arrived ten minutes late, drenched in the sort of fashionable chaos that only she could pull off - leather boots wet to the ankles, her oversized plaid jacket slipping off one shoulder, dark braids wrapped in a silk scarf.

She flopped into the seat opposite Aurora with a breathless groan.

"I swear the rain in this city is sentient. I just missed the bus and that douchebag barista flirted with me and spelled my name 'Kala' on the cup. Twice."

Aurora smiled, stirring her coffee. "You're glowing."

"It's spite."

They laughed - and for a few blissful minutes, the world outside seemed to melt into the scent of roasted beans, vanilla syrup, and the sweet, strange comfort of female friendship.

Then Calla leaned forward, voice dropping low.

"So," she said, "how was your last class yesterday? You looked like you saw a ghost when you left."

Aurora's heart skipped.

She hesitated. Her fingers tightened around the mug.

Calla blinked, then gasped. "No. Don't tell me it's the new prof. The hot one?"

Aurora's cheeks flushed instantly. "It's not like that."

Calla grinned, savage and delighted. "Girl, you didn't have to say it like that. You just confirmed everything."

Aurora groaned, burying her face in her hands. "It's stupid. I barely know him. He just... he walked in and I couldn't look away."

"Yeah, he walked in like he owned the damn class and looked like he walked out of a supernatural romance cover."

"Not helping."

"I'm serious. Lucien Dusk?" Calla said the name like it tasted sinful. "That man does not belong in a university. He belongs in someone's dreams - or nightmares. Did you see his eyes? They're practically a weapon."

Aurora exhaled slowly, dragging her nails along the edge of her cup. "It's more than just how he looks. When he spoke... it was like my skin could feel his voice. I don't know how to explain it."

Calla's teasing expression softened into something more curious. "Like a pull?"

Aurora nodded slowly. "Exactly."

The silence that followed felt weighted. Intimate.

Calla leaned back. "You know... Ivory Hollow has stories. My grandma used to tell me that the city is full of old blood. Witches, wolves, shadows. Most people say it's all legend, but..." she shrugged, her eyes narrowing slightly, "sometimes things feel real before they make sense."

Aurora paused. "Wolves?"

"Just stories," Calla added quickly, waving it off. "But... I wouldn't blame you for feeling drawn to someone like him. There's something different about that man. Like he sees more than he's supposed to."

Aurora didn't say it out loud, but she'd felt exactly that.

Like when Lucien's eyes swept over her, they weren't just seeing her clothes or posture or face - they were peeling back something hidden. Something she wasn't sure she understood herself.

As they sat together sipping coffee, Aurora kept replaying that brief glance - those pale blue eyes meeting hers.

What was that?

Was it just attraction? Was it something deeper?

Or was it a thread tied to something older, darker, and more primal than she could yet imagine?

She didn't know.

But something told her this wasn't the last time Lucien Dusk would steal the air from her lungs.

And even as her heart fluttered nervously in her chest, a dangerous part of her... hoped he would.