Lucien Grave

Lucien Grave

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 17, 2025
[cover is a work in progress] Lucien Grave was never meant to leave the facility alive. Raised in steel cages and stripped of his humanity, he was shaped into something that could kill without hesitation. The government called it "neuro-bonding" - a way to splice minds, to make pain and thought transferable. For Lucien, it was a lifetime of living inside other people's screams. The day he escaped, he made sure no one else did. At least, that's what he thought. Years later, hiding in plain sight, he's perfected the art of silence - the quiet life of a predator pretending to be human. Until the phantom sensations start: a sting in the ribs, an ache in the jaw, a quickening heartbeat that isn't his own. Then she walks into a bar. Another survivor. Another bond. Another reminder of the life he swore he'd buried under ash and blood. As their minds begin to pull against each other - not with torture, but with something far more dangerous - Lucien must decide whether to cut the last strand tying him to his past... or follow it into the darkness he thought he'd escaped. In a world where pain can be shared and humanity is a liability, some connections are impossible to sever.
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"You think I didn't want to forget you?" Enzo's voice cracked, raw and wrecked. "I tried. God, I fucking tried." Sloan's laugh came sharp and broken. "Then try harder." He stepped closer, green eyes wild. "You don't get it. You're not something I can fucking forget." His hand found her jaw, thumb trembling against her skin. "You're every fucking thing I can't unfeel." Her voice rose, sharp with pain. "And what the fuck do you want me to do about it?" He moved in until their bodies nearly touched, one hand sliding behind her head, pulling her in until their foreheads pressed together. His voice came out low, rough, trembling against her breath. "I want you to hate me more than you miss me," he whispered. "Just once." Sloan's breath hitched sharply, her steel blue eyes locked onto his. Enzo's fingers curled tighter at the nape of her neck, and God, he swore he could feel her breath tremble against his lips. "Maybe then... I could forget you," he whispered, both of them knowing it was a lie. _______ Months after she vanished into tequila, ink, chaos, and strangers' beds, Sloan Harlow still tasted like goodbye. And Enzo Graves remembered every second. Because pretending to move on didn't mean he stopped loving her- It just meant he learned how to suffer quieter. They broke each other. Now they're trying to survive the aftermath. But Enzo's past has a pulse... And obsession hasn't forgotten her name. He stayed in the town that still smells like her-every storm, every sketch, every silence carrying her mark. She ran across oceans, chasing freedom through art, danger, and strangers who almost made her forget. She can't forget him. Every touch since has felt like pretending. He can't let her go. Not when every scar still spells her name. Two continents. One unfinished story. When love turns into memory and memory turns into hunger, what's left is the quiet between heartbeats- the place they still belong to each other.

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