The second floor opened into a small, empty room with a handful of windows overlooking the courtyard below. Mina crossed over to one and peered out into the night, catching the restless movement of shadows that could only belong to the wolves.
A shift of weight sounded behind her. She turned to find that the man had followed her up the stairs.
In the dim light, she saw more of his appearance—he was tall, broad-shouldered, his jaw square beneath a dusting of stubble, his hair unkempt. She noticed, too, with an unexpected flicker of awareness, that no offensive scent clung to him.
“Why are you here?” she asked, trying to steady the tremor in her voice.
“Consider it a rescue mission.” There was a note of amusement in his reply that set her on edge.
Then realization settled in. “You’re here for me,” she said. The words made her stomach drop. Was this why he’d left the note—to draw her out, to spirit her away? Some twisted act of retribution against the Count for what he believed had been done to Father Petru?
Before her thoughts could spiral further, a harsh laugh cut through the quiet.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” the man said.
She blinked, more confused than ever. “Then why leave the note?”
“I’ve already told you—I didn’t leave you any note. I was just as surprised to see you as you were me.”
“Considering you don’t belong here,” she said, the words escaping before she could stop them, “I very much doubt that.” She bit her lip, aware she was only endangering herself further with each remark.
Her gaze flicked to the window behind her as she weighed the possibility of escape. Even ignoring the drop, the distantsounds of the wolves lingered—no longer at the door, but still close enough to be searching.
“Are you here of your own volition?”
She froze. Then her gaze returned to the stranger. “Excuse me?”
He took a step closer, and she took a step back, feeling the cold of the stone wall behind her. He put his hands up in surrender, though no apology slipped from his lips.
His hands dropped, and he sighed. “I asked if you are here of your own volition.”
It took a few moments, the two of them staring at one another, before his words settled in. What was he implying? That the Count had kidnapped her? Brought her here against her will and kept her as a prisoner?
“Don’t look so surprised,” he went on. “It’s not as though the Count troubles himself with a woman’s wishes.”
“Says the intruder,” she snapped. They stared at one another, anger flaring that surprised even her. There was much she didn’t know of the Count, but in the time they’d spent together, he hardly seemed the type of man to resort to kidnapping. He’d been kind and thoughtful, caring for her when she was ill. That wasn’t the kind of man who would harm a priest or hold a wife hostage.
The man was silent, but the ghost of a smile appeared on his face in the moonlight. “I see.”
She swallowed. Realizing she had continued to push this man’s patience, not knowing the danger she was wading into further. But before either could speak again, he visibly stilled. She listened, afraid of what she might hear, but then she realized it had gone eerily silent.
Mina turned, stepping in front of the window and looking below. But it was not the shadows of wolves that she saw—there, along the far wall of the castle, she saw a cloaked figure moving through the shadows. Her mind went to Sofia, imagining the woman slipping out of bed, somehow sensing that something was wrong, and now coming out to look for her. She needed to warn her of the wolves somewhere nearby, of the intruder, and the possibility of others elsewhere in the castle.
“Sofia!” Mina shouted. Before she could call out again, a hand wrapped around her mouth as she was pulled away from the window.
“Quiet,” he whispered into her ear, “or we’re both dead.”
Somewhere deep in her gut, fear flared, but her anger was stronger. Anger at being left alone again by the Count, anger at being lured outside by someone—whether it was this raider or someone else—who seemed to have bad intentions, anger at this stupid man who thought he could simply silence her with threats and physical force.
She pushed against him, trying to pry his hands away from her, but he did not release his hold. She tasted dirt on his skin,and she opened her mouth as much as she could before clamping down.
He yelped, pulling his hand away, and she threw her head back, hearing a crack as pain lanced her skull. As he loosened his hold on her, she pushed out of his grasp and ran as fast as she could, tripping down the shadowed stairs. She missed the last step and fell to her knees, her skin bruised by the hard concrete, but she pushed through the pain, fear forcing her onward. She stumbled toward the door and yanked it open, relieved to find the space empty of the wolves who had forced her here.
Mina didn’t spare another moment, turning and running across the courtyard, her heart pounding, her lungs tired. She didn’t look back, keeping her focus on the door she’d used to slip out of the castle.
As she got closer to the door, she couldn’t help but imagine the man just behind her, homing in on her, and she listened as she ran, her ears straining for the sound of either footsteps or paws on the stone.
Mina moved so quickly she almost missed the door, grasping onto it and pushing her way inside. It was only then that she spared a glance back at the courtyard beyond. In the darkness, she saw no wolves, no man chasing after her, but in the brief moment before she pulled the door shut, she caught a glimpse of the cloaked figure in the distance. She paused, waiting to hear Sofia’s voice call out to her, but the shadow only stood there by the front gate, facing her, but unmoving.
