Emily’s shrill voice cut through my despair.
“Get inside at once!”
She seized my hand, yanking me back through the doorway before slamming it shut against the storm’s violent howl.
“You’ll catch a chill, and then what? Falling ill won’t bring them back any faster.”
I exhaled shakily, my chest tight. “I’m just so scared. It’s been nearly a month. They said they’d be back in two or three weeks.”
I rubbed my aching jaw, the dull throb a cruel reminder of sleepless nights spent clenching my teeth, overcome with worry, and the past week had been a nightmare. My mind churned through worst-case scenarios—Roman, Malik, and Marcellious lying in a pool of their own blood, swords impaling their bodies, their faces frozen in agony.
During the long, hollow hours of the night, my thoughts spiraled into darkness, refusing to be reasoned with. I prayed that they had made it safely up the hill and were delayed, but no matter how I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t shake the images of them broken, defeated, and alone.
Then morning would come, and the first rays of dawn would cutthrough the curtains, dragging me back to the real world. But the fear never left me.
Emily squeezed my hand. “I know, sister mine. I’m scared, too. But we mustn’t put ourselves in harm’s way because we are distressed. Come with me.”
Count Montego’s Wales estate was less a manor and more a fortress. The sprawling house loomed over the storm-swept landscape, its stone walls standing like a sentinel against the howling winds. Towering wrought-iron gates enclosed the grounds—an impenetrable barrier, strong enough to withstand even the most determined army.
And yet, despite its formidable defenses, I couldn’t shake the feeling that nowhere was truly safe. Not while they were still out there.
The estate itself was a labyrinthine masterpiece of gray stone and thick timbers, crowned with four towers, each capped with turrets bearing fluttering pennants. From the outside, it looked like it had been pulled from the pages of a fantasy tale, but inside, it was no less magical.
Each room was cavernous, vast, and steeped in old-world grandeur. More than once, I had found myself lost while wandering its endless corridors, passing beneath towering archways and through hidden alcoves that whispered of centuries past.
Emily led me to a room known simply as Noir—an opulent sanctuary amid the storm.
A high, elaborately carved tray ceiling loomed above us, stark white against the rich fleur-de-lis wallpaper in shades of gold. Ornate ebony archways framed each doorway, and the grand fireplace, where flames crackled, cast golden light over the room. The furniture was as regal as the space itself—high-backed chairs and a gilded sofa, their ebony frames draped in sumptuous gold floral velvet.
Floor-to-ceiling arched windows lined the far wall, dressed in thick velvet curtains patterned in deep, curling blooms. The plush wool rug beneath our feet, soft and intricate, bloomed with blush and deep blue hues, muffling our steps as we crossed the room.
The entire space felt like something out of a fairy tale—warm, grand, and timeless.
“Sit,” Emily commanded, pointing to the sofa.
I obeyed.
She settled beside me, turning to face me, her fingers wrapping tightly around mine.
“I can’t just wait here anymore, Emily,” I blurted, gripping her hands like a lifeline. “I need to start searching for them. I have to do something.”
Her expression darkened. “Absolutely not. Have you looked outside?”
The blizzard howled against the windowpanes, ice pelting the glass inrelentless bursts. The wind screeched around the eaves, rattling the house with its fury.
“Of course, I see it. I was just out there in that blasted storm, remember?”
Emily rolled her eyes before lightly knocking the side of my head with her knuckles. “I only asked because you’ve lost your good sense.”
She fixed me with a reproving glare; lips pressed into a thin line, then suddenly winced, her hand flying to her abdomen.
An alarm surged through me. “What is it? What’s happening?”
Emily held up a finger, sucking in a breath as she panted.
Then, her voice came strained, breathless.
“Contractions.”
