Rook has been preparing too.
The difference was, I'd been preparing to understand him.
And he was preparing to what? Crown me?
Shivering, I crossed the threshold, feeling more like a lamb entering a lion’s den.
The door swung shut behind me.
The sound it made wasn't a click.
It was a swallow.
Fuck. What did I get myself into?
Chapter two
A Meeting with a Serial Killer
Listening Companion:
Penderecki—Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima
The hallway stretched ahead of me, maybe thirty feet long, ending at a blank wall. I expected Rook’s cell to sit just before the dead end, to the left or the right.
The music shifted as I walked.
The soft elegance ofClair de Lunedispersed into a song that made my stomach drop.
I recognized it instantly—Penderecki.Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima.Written as a passionate expression of grief for the devastation the bomb left behind.
And the sound wasn’t melody so much as pressure. Shrill strings tearing against each other. Fifty-two instrumentsclawing and collapsing. Cries stretched so thin they barely registered as human.
The song scraped along my nerves, high and merciless, vibrating through bone instead of ear, not meant to be listened to so much as endured.
And Rook’s seductive scent became stronger too, thickening as I walked, layering over itself, filling the narrow corridor until I was breathing him in with every inhale.
Pine, smoke, and underneath that. . .dense, animalistic musk.
It was the kind of smell that bypassed the brain entirely and spoke directly to the spine. Yet, it shouldn’t have smelled so damn good.
The scent clung to the air like something brewed, not worn—thick and heady, pine resin melted down with smoked honey and skin-warm musk.
Each breath felt heavier than the last.
Syrupy.
Narcotic.
As if the corridor itself were dosing me.
Rook’s scent slid past reason, softened my edges, and dulled all my instincts to pull back.
It was danger refined into a drug.
It was red flags softened into warm honey and fed to me slowly, until wanting replaced warning.
Heat prickled across my skin, starting at my throat and spreading downward.
