My pulse stumbled. “Sylum… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
He laughed then, a sharp, manic sound that made my blood run cold. “You still don’t see it, do you?”
He brushed a hand along the edge of the desk, his fingers gliding over the wood like a lover’s touch.
“It should have been mine,” he sighed, his tone softening, almost wistful. “All of it.”
“Sylum,” I whispered, “please.”
Before I could finish, he lunged forward. The file was ripped from my grasp, tossed into the fire before I could react. Flames devoured it instantly. His arm coiled around my waist, yanking me against him with brutal force.
The locket fell to the floor, the metal clinking against wood.
“Why do you have that?” I asked, my voice trembling as realization dawned on me.
“Because it’s mine,” he replied with a shrug. “Like all of this.”
He gestured around the room before his gaze locked onto me again.
I shook my head, slowly. “It was real… it was all real…”
“Shut up,” he demanded. “You just couldn’t follow the plan!”
I gasped, struggling against his chest, but his hold was unyielding.
“Please,” I begged, my voice breaking.
He tilted his head, studying me with eyes that looked familiar but wrong, empty and ravenous all at once. “You’re soft everywhere,” he murmured, his tone suddenly gentling as his breath ghosted against my cheek. “I had hoped to keep you a little longer.”
A shudder coursed through me.
“Perhaps I will just keep your heart in a jar after all,” he whispered, smiling faintly.
My throat went dry, those same words coming back to me from a memory of when I first arrived at Blackthorn. “What…?”
His eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a low growl. “You just couldn’t stop being sane, could you?”
My stomach plummeted. “What are you talking about?”
His hand clamped over mymouth, the pressure bruising.
“It’s too late, my little Duchess,” he crooned, his tone both mocking and affectionate. “No more words. It’s time to go.”
Panic flooded my veins. I twisted and fought, my muffled cries smothered against his palm. He dragged me across the room into the hall with terrifying strength, the heels of my slippers scraping against the floor.
“What are you doing?!” A soft, feminine voice demanded.
I managed to turn my head away just enough to see Nelly standing by the foot of the stairs. Tears welled in my eyes as I screamed behind his hand. Relief washed over me as Nelly started towards us, determination on her face.
But then she stopped suddenly just short of where we stood. Her eyes flicked between us then once again, staying on Sylum, studying him intently with a slight tilt of her head. She frowned, gaze narrowing as she planted her hands on her hips.
“Julien?” She gritted out, her genteel accent slipping into something harsh and unfamiliar. “What the hell are you doing?!”
Julien?
The man’s grip tightened on me, his hand trembling against my skin. I craned my neck, searching his face in the dim light. The same jaw, the same mouth, the same eyes, but sharper somehow, colder… and hair just a touch darker than Sylum’s…
My breath caught.
