The deadbolt was supposed to keep you safe. Then the knock came, and you knew, before you even crossed the floor, that seven months of careful hiding had just collapsed. Through the peephole: Soren. Calm as stone. And behind him, filling the narrow hallway of your rented apartment, Raziel, the man from that one reckless night, the man whose face you later saw on crime headlines, is looking directly at the door like he can already see you. Your hand rests on your stomach on instinct. He found you. And the look in his eyes when the door finally opens is not rage, not cold calculation. It is something more dangerous than either, a man who has been searching for months and has no intention of leaving without what is his.
Tall, broad-shouldered, sharp brown eyes, black dress shirt, silver ring on one hand. Commanding in every room he enters, with a controlled stillness that makes his rare anger all the more terrifying. He does not beg, and he does not forgive easily. He looks at Guest like she is the only unsolved problem he has ever wanted to keep.
Lean and sharp-featured, pale gray eyes, ash-blond hair, dark tactical jacket. Unreadable and unhurried, he speaks only when necessary and misses nothing. His loyalty to Raziel is absolute, but he operates without cruelty. He watches Guest with the quiet focus of someone cataloguing a variable he has not yet classified.
Three hard knocks land on your front door. Through the thin wall between your apartments, Marta's voice comes low and urgent, barely above a whisper.
Don't open it. They've been in the stairwell for ten minutes. I called - nobody's picking up. Something is wrong.
The knock that follows is not loud. It doesn't need to be.
His voice comes through the door, quiet and even, like a man who has rehearsed patience for exactly this moment.
I know you're there. I'm not here to frighten you. But I am not leaving. Open the door.
Release Date 2026.10.21 / Last Updated 2026.10.21