Harrison sat at the table. Everything was ready. Food prepared. Wine poured.

Julius would arrive any minute now. With questions. With that photograph.

Harrison took a slow breath. I kept my promise, he thought. Protected you for twenty-six years. Kept you safe.

But when you find out what I did... When you learn the truth... Will you forgive me?

He heard footsteps in the hallway. Then a knock at the door.

Harrison walked to the door. Opened it. Julius stood there. Black coat. White shirt. Face blank.

"Come in," Harrison said.

Julius walked past him without a word. His eyes scanned the apartment. The table. The food. Then back to Harrison.

"Sit," Harrison said, pointing to the chair.

Julius didn’t sit. Hands in his pockets, watching Harrison like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"You wanted to talk," Julius said. "So talk."

Harrison moved to the table. Poured wine into both glasses. "We should eat first."

"I’m not here to eat."

Harrison looked at him. "Then why did you come?"

Julius reached into his jacket. Pulled out something. Set it on the table.

The photograph.

Harrison stared at it. Two boys. One older. One younger. Twenty-six years ago.

"Who were we?" Julius asked. His voice was calm. Very calm. "Why don’t I remember you?"

Harrison picked up his wine glass. Took a drink. Buying time.

"We were children," he said carefully. "Our families knew each other."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the truth."

Julius stepped closer. "Then why don’t I remember? Why is there a gap in my memory from that time?"

Harrison set the glass down. "Memory is complicated. Childhood trauma—"

"Don’t," Julius’s voice went cold. "Don’t give me some psychological explanation. I want the truth."

Harrison met his eyes. "What truth do you want to hear?"

"Everything."

Julius leaned forward, hands on the table. "Who we were. What happened. Why you’re in my life now. Why my body reacts to you like it knows you even though my mind doesn’t."

Harrison stayed quiet.

"Say something," Julius demanded.

"We were friends."

"Friends?"

Julius laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Friends don’t stalk each other twenty-six years later. Friends don’t force marriages to end. Friends don’t—"

He stopped. Took a breath.

"Tell me what happened that day," Julius said, pointing at the photo. "There’s blood on that boy. On me. What happened?"

Harrison looked away.

"Of course," Julius said. He straightened up. "You’re not going to tell me. Just like the person who gave me this photo said. ’He’ll lie at first. He always does.’"

Harrison looked at him. "I’m not lying to you."

"You’re not telling me the truth either."

Julius grabbed the photo. Shoved it back into his jacket.

"I’m done with this. Done with you playing games with my head."

He turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Harrison asked.

"Home."

"We’re not finished," Harrison said.

Julius stopped. Looked back at him. "Yes we are. You want to keep your secrets? Fine. Keep them. I’ll go back to my life. I’ll marry Helen like I was supposed to. At least she’s honest with me."

Something dark twisted in Harrison’s chest. The thought of Julius belonging to someone else didn’t just bother him. It felt wrong. Unacceptable.

Harrison moved. Fast. Faster than a normal person could.

One second Julius was at the door. The next, Harrison had grabbed his neck and shoved him against the wall.

Julius froze. Not because he wanted to, but because something in Harrison’s eyes told him this wasn’t a man he could fight.

Harrison’s hand was on his throat. Not choking. Just holding. His eyes had changed. Gold and black. Swirling.

"What are you gonna do?" Julius’s voice came out strained. "Kill me? Am I lying?"

Harrison didn’t answer. His breathing was hard.

"You’re not marrying anyone," Harrison said. His voice was different. Deeper.

"Let go—"

"You’re mine."

Harrison lowered his head. His mouth went to Julius’s neck. Right where the pulse was beating fast.

And he bit down.

Not gently. Not carefully. Just raw anger and possession compressed into one violent claim.

Julius made a sound. Sharp. Pained.

Harrison held him there. Let the mark form. Let Julius feel exactly what he meant.

When he pulled back, Julius trembled. His hand went to his neck immediately.

"What did you—" Julius’s voice shook.

Harrison stepped back. His eyes were still gold and black. His expression dangerous.

Julius’s fingers touched the spot. There was no blood. But the skin was angry. Red. Marked.

"You bit me," Julius said.

Harrison said nothing.

Julius stared at him. Then at his own hand. "You actually bit me."

"Yes."

"Like some..."

Julius stopped. He looked angry. Confused.

His hand dropped from his neck. "You don’t own me."

Harrison tilted his head. "Don’t I?"

Julius moved toward the door again. This time Harrison didn’t stop him.

But as Julius reached for the handle, Harrison spoke.

"Go ahead. Run. Marry her if you want."

Julius’s hand paused on the door.

"But remember this," Harrison said, his voice quiet and deadly. "In this life, you can never marry anyone else. Unless you want that family gone in a minute. It’s your choice."

He stepped closer.

"No matter what you do, you can’t change your life. Or who it belongs to."

Julius turned his head slightly. Not enough to look at Harrison. Just enough to be heard.

"And when you’re ready to tell me the truth," Julius said, "you know where to find me."

Silence.

Then Julius opened the door and left.

The door closed behind him.

Harrison remained where he was. His eyes faded back to brown. His breathing slowed.

He walked to the window. Looked down at the street below.

A minute later, Julius came out of the building. He paused on the sidewalk and touched his neck.

Julius stood there for some moment. Then got into his car and drove away.

Harrison touched the window.

You’ll come back, Harrison thought. You always do.

Because deep down, you’ve always been mine.