The court wasn't prepared.
Not because they didn't know he was coming, but because they didn't know what he was.
Lucan stepped through the doors like he'd always belonged there. No announcement. No guard escort. No royal bow. He walked past two enforcers who instinctively reached for weapons they didn't draw. His eyes passed over them like smoke.
Sophie-Anne sat at the far end of the long hall, draped in crimson. Her throne wasn't ancient it was modern, styled to intimidate the insecure. Lucan didn't react. His coat still carried the smell of pine and ash. He stopped just short of the step up to her platform.
No bow.
No nod.
Just stillness.
"You came," Sophie-Anne said, voice as light as perfume.
Lucan didn't answer immediately. His eyes moved once across the room, noting exits, distance, line of sight.
"You asked," he said finally.
She smiled. "I didn't think you'd take it seriously."
"I didn't."
"But you came anyway."
Lucan's eyes met hers. "Curiosity is not compliance."
The room was dead silent. Even the guards shifted uneasily.
Sophie-Anne rose slowly, walking down the steps with deliberate grace. Not seduction, performance. She stopped a few feet from him.
"You're older than anyone in this room dares guess. You could end most of us before we blink. And yet, here you are. That suggests one of two things: either you're desperate... or you're deciding whether to be interested."
Lucan didn't blink. "I've already decided."
"And?"
"I'm not impressed."
Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes changed.
"You've been watching Bon Temps," she said. "What's in that town that's worth more than centuries of distance?"
Lucan didn't answer. Sophie-Anne stepped closer, almost within reach.
"Is it the girl?"
Lucan's gaze sharpened.
Sophie-Anne noted it. Filed it. Leaned in slightly.
"She's tied to something bigger. I've felt it from here. But what I haven't figured out is this: are you protecting her… or using her?"
Lucan's voice was quiet.
"Does it matter?"
Sophie-Anne held his stare. "It will."
She stepped back then, turned, and began walking away, just slow enough to signal control.
"You can stay the night. Or don't. I'll know if you're still in the state come sunrise."
Lucan didn't move. "I'm not staying."
Sophie-Anne paused, turned her head.
"But you're coming back."
It wasn't a question.
Lucan's voice was low.
"When it's worth my time."
She smiled. Not sweetly, but like a wolf showing teeth.
"Then I'll make it worth it."
Lucan left the court the same way he entered, without looking back. But he didn't walk fast and he didn't vanish. He lingered, just long enough for her to feel him go.
-----
Amanda's hands were shaking again. Not from cold. From resonance.
She sat on the back steps of the house, fingers pressed against the dirt. The sun had gone down an hour ago, but she hadn't moved since twilight. She was waiting. The tether didn't need blood anymore. Or touch. Sometimes, it just opened.
And tonight, it did.
The man had been a dealer. Vampire blood mostly. He'd been strangled two hours earlier in Shreveport. Amanda didn't know him. She didn't know his killer either.
But the tether pulled her into him not as memory, but as moment.
For ten seconds, she was inside a brain that was no longer firing. Inside a body that still twitched from reflex.
She didn't hear a message.
She didn't see a vision.
But something was there.
It wasn't like before. No pressure and no whisper. It was absence. Like something vast had leaned in to listen.
Amanda tried to speak. Not with her mouth, but with her mind.
'What do you want?'
No answer. But the silence felt aware. Then the question came, not from it, but from her.
'Do you think I'm yours?'
The tether flexed, not painfully just curiously. Like a predator tasting the air before a kill. Amanda felt her breath slow. Her eyes watered.
And then it backed away. Not in defeat.
In thought.
She came back fast. Too fast. She vomited into the dirt, hands bracing her against the steps. Lucan was already beside her, crouching low, one hand on her back.
She didn't look at him.
She didn't need to.
"It listened to me," she said, voice raw.
Lucan didn't react, not outwardly. But something in his posture shifted like he'd just been handed a blade he thought lost.
"That's new," he said.
Amanda wiped her mouth, sat back, and stared up at the dark sky.
"It didn't speak."
Lucan nodded. "It doesn't need to."
She looked at him.
"Do you know what it is?"
Lucan's eyes darkened.
"Not yet. But I know what it wants."
Amanda whispered, "What?"
Lucan stood slowly.
"You."
-----
Nora found her sitting alone at the edge of the woods.
No fire. No flashlight. Just Amanda, knees tucked to her chest, staring into the dark like it was going to answer back.
She didn't announce herself. Just stepped into the clearing and stopped a few feet away.
Amanda didn't turn.
"You're back," she said.
"I never left."
Amanda gave a tired, crooked smile. "Liar."
Nora moved closer, boots silent on the damp grass. She sat, not too close.
"I've been listening."
"To what?"
"You," Nora said. "And everything that listens to you."
Amanda didn't respond. They sat in silence for a minute, maybe longer.
Then Amanda said quietly, "It's changing me."
Nora watched her face.
"Lucan knows."
Amanda nodded. "He doesn't say it. But I can feel it."
"And you're afraid?"
Amanda looked at her then, really looked.
"I'm not sure if I'm afraid of what I'll become… or what I'll want once I do."
Nora leaned back on her hands. "You think Lucan will stop you?"
Amanda didn't hesitate. "No."
"You think he wants you to change?"
Amanda shook her head. "I think he wants to see what I become. And then decide."
Nora was quiet. Then, gently, "That's not love."
Amanda blinked. "He doesn't love me."
"Maybe not the way you mean. But he's bonded to you. That has weight."
Amanda's voice was flat. "I'm not in love with him."
"I didn't say you were."
They both looked back out at the dark trees.
Then Nora asked, softer this time, "Do you want to live?"
Amanda frowned. "What kind of questio-"
"Because if you don't," Nora said, "that thing inside you? It'll know. And it'll use that."
Amanda didn't answer or move, but her throat tightened.
Nora didn't push. She just stayed. For the first time, not as a spy. But as something closer to a shield.