Lucian did not take Julian back to the main floor.
The moment they stepped away from the crowd, the sound of the club changed. The music faded behind closed doors, becoming more vibration than sound. Lucian walked ahead without looking back, and Julian followed him down a narrower corridor lined with low lights and dark walls.
Valen's words still lingered in Julian's mind.
Your blood smells different.
He hated how easily the sentence had settled under his skin. Not because it frightened him, but because it had drawn attention in a room where attention mattered.
Lucian opened a door at the end of the corridor and stepped inside.
Julian followed.
The room was private without trying to look important. A sofa against one wall. A low table. A cabinet stocked with glasses and bottles. No windows. Only the faint pulse of music filtering through the walls.
Lucian removed his coat and placed it over the back of a chair.
Julian remained near the door.
