Whoever it was kept still and silent. All I could hear was the hammering of my heart as it convulsed in my chest.
“Who are you? Why are you watching me sleep?” I asked in a low voice.
A shiver slipped down my back—the shadow could be anyone—thousands of dead were trapped in this long-forgotten world.
One beat, then two, and my heart dropped through my stomach and screeched to a stop.
Thud.
Thud.
Boom.
“I’m debating whether to slit your throat or leave you to rot here.” Mathias’s voice was dark and brittle like the crunch of leaves or the crackling snap of a fire. I could almost see him, the smooth angles of his ageless face and the haunting stare that pierced right into your soul. He shifted slowly out of the shadows, hair the color of a midnight sky, the rest of him traces of hazy gray and all the colors of sorrow. Worn, leather gloves covered his hands, pulled up over his forearms, warding off any sort of contact or touch. He was a tangle of darkness and steel, overtaking the shadows he came from.
“You might be thinking of my throat, but not slitting it. Killing me is the least of your thoughts,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.He wasn’t serious about slitting my throat, was he?
He couldn’t be.
“Tell me,princess,” he sneered, making me flinch back quickly. “What do you know of my thoughts? You serve my father now, none of my thoughts are of you.” His tone was scathing and full of scorn. In the dim light his bleak eyes disoriented me, flat and lifeless, yet so full of anger.
“Is that why you’re in my room?” I asked, instantly offended.How could he possibly believe I was truly serving his father? His father was a murderer.
Evil.
Terrifying.
Someone I wanted no part of.
It was both the longest and shortest moment of my life—our gazes locked together yet a thousand lifetimes apart. This was the person who was somehow tethered to my soul, yet standing before him I never felt more of a stranger to anyone in my life. Mathias looked at me in disgust and fiery hostility.
Like all of it had been a lie.
I didn’t want it to all be a lie; the realization hit me hard, a serrated blade slicing through my heart. Not only did I return to help my mother, I came back here for him. I wanted to feel the way I felt when he held my soul in the palm of his hand—like it was where I belonged. What about all the things he said to me? What about the notes he left for me in the margins of my grandmother’s book?
What happened?
Something must have happened.
His father must have done something.
His eyes didn’t leave mine as I took slow, deliberate steps closer to him. His gaze was so full of hatred I feared he would lash out and hurt me.
But he wouldn’t, would he?
My throat tightened and something strange and hot and painful squeezed inside my chest.I needed him to trust me. I needed him to remember what we were supposed to be to each other. I placed the palm of my hand against his chest. I held my breath as my fingers trembled against the coldness of his cloak. I was terrified.Had I gotten everything all wrong?
Horror and shame warred in his expression, so intense and hurtful I stumbled a step, my thoughts spinning in confusion and disbelief.
Somewhere far off, the chimes of silvery bells jingled softly. Soon we would not be alone.
Around us, the room began to transform in little subtle changes. We didn’t have much time—night was falling—and with night came the darkness of Ravenswood and the dead that inhabited it. “What did Hemlock do to you?” My voice was a whispered plea. I needed to know, to find a way to stop how he was looking at me.
Mathias’s eyes looked past my shoulder, as if listening to the sounds coming to life around us. “Well, speaking of the devil, my father is calling for you.” His gloved hand gripped my arm, spinning me around to face away from him. The distance between our bodies closed, and his face was in my hair, at the back of my neck, his lips moving along the shell of my ear. “He will kill you,” he whispered.
Noises and sounds erupted from the hallway just outside my room and his hands were off me immediately, his broad shoulders huffing heavily in the corner opposite of where we just stood. As far away from me as the room would allow.
“Let him try,” I said back, folding my arms across my chest, trying to act tougher than I was. I felt vulnerable and naked, and so damn humiliated.
