UNDER PRESSURE
Hazel backed away and turned to run, immediately slamming into something solid.
No.Someone.
Hazel thumped off the wall-like body, landing on the time-worn floor with a thud. The impact forced the air from her lungs, and her chest heaved as she tried to regain her breath. But when she looked up, her heart skipped a beat.
Slaide towered over her, looking as unbothered as ever.
Hazel looked around the room, brows dipping in confusion.But where…?
“You look surprised to see me,” he said, his smooth-as-whiskey voice washing over her.
“Of course I am,” Hazel snapped. “How the Hel did you get in?”And how do I get out?
“You should know by now I have my ways. Besides, I live here. You think I don’t know about the secret, walled-off library?”
Okay, fine.“Maybe, but did you know there was a secret passageway in your own damn room that dumps you in here if you lean too hard on the wall?”
Slaide’s reaction was almost unnoticeable, just a shift in posture. But it said more than words ever could.
“It’s better if you don’t know the answer to that question, sweets.” He smirked and broke eye contact as he bent at the waist to pick something up.
Hazel blanched when he stood up holding the leather-bound book in his hand.
“And stealing, no less?” He wagged a finger at her, stepping into her space and handing the book back.
She snatched it out of his hand and retreated a step. Sure, his allure was intoxicating, but she was on such dangerous ground here. A witch testing her luck with a witch hunter. Quite literally flirting with death.
Slaide noticed the mirror, as though it wasn’t towering over both of their heads the entire time.
He side-eyed her through narrowed eyes. “Did you?”
Hazel shrugged, not wanting to reveal too much.
“Oh, ho, ho.” A feral grin spread across his face. “The little witch is trying to get an early start on the trials, I see? Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the sneakiest of them all?”
She still maintained her silence, refusing to meet his gaze.
A finger curled under her chin, tipping her face upward so she was looking into his sinfully golden eyes. “Two truths and a lie,” he said. “I wonder what it showed you.”
“That’s for me to know, and no one else,” she snapped, jerking her chin away.
He slid his hands into his pockets but maintained a posture that made her feel small in his presence. “For now, maybe. But rumor has it this pretty little mirror will be brought out for one of the trials. It has this fancy little trick it does where it drives men into madness, so forgive me for finding it more than a little curious that you’ve engaged with the Mirror of Truth withoutlosing your head. Though I suppose that bodes well for us, should it be used in the trials.”
“Us? Last time I checked, you weren’t competing.” She scoffed.
“And last timeIchecked, Hazel dearest, I’m responsible for your performance. Staying alive is just as important as keeping your mental faculties intact to avoid disqualification. Forgive me for protecting my investment.”
Gods, this man is as insufferable as they come.“What is your investment, anyway? Why me? Why do you care?”
“Care? No. I have avestedinterest in your success, but don’t get it twisted. Once you’ve won the tournament, whether through skill or sheer dumb luck, I could not care less what becomes of you.”
It stung more than it should have.
Slaide stepped closer, looming over her. It was the first time she noticed his scent, that intoxicatingly earthy smell left to linger in the air just after a storm… petrichor mixed with something rich—something dark. Hazel’s back bumped the bookcase behind her, and she sucked in a sharp breath at the realization she had nowhere to go.
He braced his arm against the shelf above her head as he leaned into her space. Shadows swirled around him with a life of their own, watching, waiting.
