Rosie’s bright button eyes stayed locked on him, wide and full of something innocent, trusting.
Malik rose, his gaze shifting back to me.
Then—a smile.
A curve of his lips, seductive, knowing. His lids lowered just slightly, the faintest hint of something unreadable lingering in his expression.
I sucked in a ragged breath.
Malik was the most mysterious, compelling, and utterly confounding man I had ever met.
“You and Emily are strong women,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth, rich cadence. “Rosie is fortunate to have found you.” He paused. “You’ve traveled far. Endured much. Here, you can rest, restore, renew.”
He extended his hand toward Rosie.
She took it without hesitation, as drawn to him as I was.
“Allow me to show you to your rooms,” he said.
With Rosie at his side, he turned and ascended the stairs.
I stood there, utterly speechless. Gutted by his presence.
Like a fish gasping for air, my mouth opened and closed—no words came.
Malik and Rosie disappeared up the staircase, veering left instead of right, speaking in hushed tones beyond my hearing.
Emily let out a breath. “Can you believe this, Olivia? He’s showing us nothing but kindness.”
“I don’t trust him, Emily,” I hissed, my pulse still racing. “The darkness manipulates. It twists, deceives, and destroys. Malik was trained under Balthazar. I don’t believe him—I don’t trust him—for a second.”
Emily placed a hand on my upper arm. “He wants to take care of us. And isn’t he kind to Rosie? Children know when it’s safe to trust someone.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Em. Malik could have hypnotized her. He’s… compelling.”
I propped my hands on my hips, watching Malik and Rosie disappear into the upstairs hallway.
Emily exhaled. “You don’t know him.” She hesitated, then added, “I say we give him a chance.”
I turned to her, my eyes narrowing. “You’re right. We don’t know him. And that’s exactly why we shouldn’t trust him.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “He is the darkness. At this point, I trust no one. And not him.”
Something in my gut twisted.
I raced up the stairs.
I had to see where he was taking Rosie.
As I crossed the threshold, I faltered.
The left upstairs hallway was nothing like the one on the right.
Sconces flickered along the walls, casting warm candlelight over the immaculate space. There were no cobwebs, dust, or eerie, abandoned stillness. Instead, the air carried the soft scent of beeswax and lavender—fresh, lived-in, and welcoming.
But still, I was suspicious.
From a room up ahead, I heard laughter.
Rosie’s soft, innocent giggle.
