Side-stepping the few carrying a table down a hall, she made her escape. She was so caught up in her worries that she didn’t notice the figure at the end of the hall, in the shadows, until it was too late.
Orange hair caught in her sight, until it focused.
Not Max.
Oliver.
Sin stopped, her breath catching in her throat as he stood at the end of the corridor, his lean form almost melting into the dim light. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—he just watched her, his eyes cold and calculating.
Sin could practically feel the malice seeping from his soul, an oppressive aura that made her skin crawl.
There was something off about him. Sin had always known that, but now, under his unblinking gaze, it felt more real than ever. His stillness was unnatural. His presence oozed malice, not in the way of physical violence, but in the way he held power—power he could wield at any moment, with just a flick of hiswrist or a sharp word. But he didn’t need words to scare her. His presence alone was enough.
Sin’s instincts screamed at her to flee as his head tilted ever so slightly, like he was studying prey. The way his eyes glowed faintly in the dim light made her skin crawl. Sin could hear the faint rustle of his clothing as he shifted slightly, the soft sound sending a chill down her spine. Suddenly, the walls felt as if they were caving in on Sin, her instincts screaming danger as he studied her with those cold, calculating eyes.
Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs as she stepped back, turning around to flee as slowly and un-alarmingly as possible.
A predator was watching her, and she knew the last thing she should do was run. Even after she turned the corner, she could still feel his gaze burning into her back.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as she fled through the corridors. Her hands shook as she wiped sweat from her brow, the chill of fear settling deep in her bones.
Allowing instinct and desperation to lead her, Sin came across a familiar door she had never consciously noticed before. Without thinking, she slipped inside and immediately locked the door behind her, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the latch. The click of it finally locking sounded deafening in the silence, a small but crucial victory in her frantic state.
For the first time in weeks, Sin found herself inside Max’s bedroom. She stepped further in, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and found solace in the familiar scent of leather and wood.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her breath ragged and uneven. The fear of Oliver lingered, his silent threat still hanging over her.
Her gaze fell on the oversized leather chair by the fireplace. It looked inviting, comforting. Without thinking, she moved toward it and sank into the chair, her hands gripping the armsas her body slowly sank into the plush cushions, feeling the momentary relief and the comforting scent of Max that seemed to envelop her.
For a moment, Sin allowed herself to breathe. The tension in her body slowly unwound as she sat there, the weight of the past weeks pressing down on her like a boulder. The flickering firelight danced across the room—her skin.
The castle felt too big, too cold, and too dangerous. But here, in Max’s room, she felt a sliver of safety.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but as the warmth of the fire seeped into her skin, she felt her exhaustion creeping in. The fear and confusion that had driven her to this room began to melt away, replaced by a deep, aching tiredness.
Her mind raced with thoughts of Oliver, of Max, of the ball that loomed over them all. Jealousy and fear twisted together in her gut, but it was too much, too heavy to carry any longer. Her eyelids grew heavy, her body giving in to the fatigue that had been building for days.
As she leaned back in the chair, her limbs finally relaxing, Sin’s eyes fluttered closed. The warmth of the room and the softness of the chair lulled her into a state of calm she hadn’t felt in weeks. But even as sleep claimed her, there was an undercurrent of tension that wouldn’t let her fully rest—an uneasy awareness that something was still out there, waiting in the shadows.
As if she’d never left that manor.
Sin
Aloud crack of embers in the fireplace jerked Sin’s body awake. Panic consumed her at the reminder that she didn’t have any magic. She had no way of protecting herself. Did the brother track her there? Of course he did, and it was stupid to think she could hide there safely.
The panic in her chest began to ebb as her eyes scanned the room. The fire crackled softly, and Max’s firm grip steadied her trembling wrists. Kneeling before her, at the foot of the chair, was Max, holding her wrists down to ground her.
His gaze held hers as she took a deep breath of relief, and her surroundings. “You’re safe.” It was just Max. He would protect her, she reminded herself.
I am so fucked,she thought, disturbed with herself for assuming her mate bond would ever truly protect her, and angry she sought his protection.
His thumbs rubbed her wrists to soothe her, but they only made her core clench with unrestrained need. She gritted her teeth to fight down the urges. She hated how her body reacted to him. She should have been pulling away, fighting him, but every fiber of her being betrayed her desire for his touch.
Max smirked like he knew, then asked in a softer tone, “What happened?”
Sin, still shaken, admits that his brother frightened her, describing what she saw, leaving out that her instincts led herhere. He clearly knew that, and there was no sense in bringing it up.
Max’s reaction throughout her informing him shifts from concern to a lethal rage. His eyes glowed, the pupils narrowing to slits like the predator he was. His grip on her wrists tightened just under a painful level.
