Olivia’s gaze snapped to mine, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“How odd to hear a man of darkness singing a lullaby,” she whispered. Then, turning toward the door, she called softly, “Malik?”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“Olivia?” His voice was deep, rich, a timbre that sent an unsettling chill through me. “Come in. I’m soothing Rosie after a bad dream.”
Olivia pushed the door open.
And there he was.
A bare-chested man, his muscled torso illuminated by the golden glow of a bedside lantern. A small child lay curled against him, her tiny head resting on his broad shoulder—asleep, completely at peace.
Malik’s smile fell the moment his gaze met mine.
I stilled, my breath locking in my throat.
My mind fractured—images flooded my brain like a torrential downpour.
This was the man from Costa’s party.
The man from my nightmares.
A shadow of recognition tore through me.
I knew him not just from tonight, not just from Olivia’s past, but from something deeper.
Something older.
I had hunted alongside him before, if not in this lifetime, then in another. It wasn’t just a dream.
Malik’s expression mirrored my own.
He lowered the child onto the bed, tucking the blankets around her small frame with uncharacteristic tenderness.
For a brief moment, my attention settled on the beautiful, innocent girl untouched by the darkness of this world.
But then, Malik’s gaze pulled me back.
And I knew.
I knew he felt it, too.
“You may have been born a monster,” I said, the words bubbling up from the deep recesses of my mind—spoken before I even understood their significance.
Malik’s emerald eyes burned, his voice a whisper of something ancient as he finished the phrase?—
“But I will never die a monster.”
A shiver rippled down my spine.
“What the hell is going on?” Olivia demanded, her eyes darting between us in confusion.
Malik didn’t even glance at her. His focus was locked on me.
His lips parted.
