A breeze slipped in through the window behind us. I drew a shallow breath as the hallway candles stuttered, one after another, their light thinning to shadows. Stray strands of hair brushed my cheek, and the thin fabric of my dress clung to my thighs. A damn strong wind that I hoped didn’t carry the Velvetshades scent.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and stilled. Regan’s gaze was heavy, assessing. His power grazed my skin like static, and I didn’t dare move. He didn’t look around the room.
His eyes traced my body, slow and deliberate, pausing where the dress drew tight before meeting mine again. There was a glint there, something amused, predatory.
“You should put on something warmer,” he said, flashing a knowing grin. “Unless it’s not the cold that makes your hands shake.”
His eyes roamed, watching the subtle ways my body betrayed me.
“Funny how we react the same,” he continued softly. “And yet we don’t. You sensed danger, tensed, and now you’re ready to run. Your instinct quickened your pulse to an adorable pace.”
I let him think he was intimidating me. “Shouldn’t I be afraid?”
Reagan didn’t answer, looking sickly amused by my reaction. I ignored the way my pulse was racing and tried to refocus on his question.
“So I have to come up with a lie about why I’m being held prisoner?”
“Prisoner?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “You’re free to go anywhere in the estate. I’d hardly call it prison.”
“But not home.”
“No. Do you have any idea what could happen if humans found out about us again? You should be very careful,” he warned, leaning over me.
The distance between us had shrunk.
“Careful how? With the truth? With a lie?” My tone was bland, unfazed. If he wanted to unsettle me, he’d have to do better.
He smelled faintly of cedarwood and something green and metallic, an effect that made my skull buzz.
“With whatever excuse you use,” he said. “Just make it plausible. Make it boring.”
“Boring,” I repeated, swallowing. “Are you that cold?”
He lowered his head until our eyes were level, his gaze cutting down my body in silence. Unhurried, daring me not to move.
“Aren’t you a brave little human?” he drawled, voice thick with mockery.
Heat climbed my neck. I forced my expression still, knowing this was all a jest to him. The corner of his mouth curved into a vile grin.
“You have until tomorrow to decide what to tell your family,” he said, straightening, his tone back to command. “Finnegan leaves in the afternoon.”
He didn’t wait for a response. I shut the door and leaned back against the solid wood, pressing my fingers to my temples.
If he were sending Finnegan tomorrow, my time was up. I had to leave tonight.
???
The doorknob turned soundlessly as I slipped out five minutes before the shift change.
My heart pounded, every beat echoing in my chest. I wore leather pants, a thick sweater, and my boots, with the burgundy cloak Finnegan had given me, the warmest thing I had, and it concealed my entire body.
I moved into the empty, dimly lit hallway, stepping carefully on the rugs.
The small satchel the room had provided hung across my torso, packed with what I deemed essential: two hunting daggers I had no idea how to use, the Velvetshades I’d already rubbed over every possible inch of me, a can of pepper spray—absurd, perhaps, but better than nothing—and a lantern.
When I reached the main staircase, a few castle workers were crossing the ground floor. I flattened myself against the wall, staying hidden in the hallway’s shadows.
Only a few more minutes until the guard shift ended—my one chance to slip through unnoticed.
