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“Why?” Even when his words make no sense, I’m drawn into the feel of him at my back and the allure of his presence like a moth to a flame, headed to certain death.

His breath fans over my ear. “Because you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I swallow as his hand, which had been drawing circles on my thigh, presses against my belly, stoking the fire Elias lit.

“Will you have us, calamity? Will you be ours?”

The question is confusing, like I’m walking through a Gothic novel, being seduced by the words on the page. The pretty prose is hypnotizing me into believing all of this is real, that they are real.

“I don’t know,” I stammer out.

“Do you know what I think?” he whispers, and my eyes close, my face instinctively turning into his.

There are rough patches of skin on his cheek, likely scars, matching the ones on his hands and arms.

“What?” I ask.

“I think you’re already ours.”

The energy around me shifts, and I flutter my eyes open to find I’m standing unsteadily behind my desk, no one in the room with me. Lucien’s words niggle in my brain as I catch myself on the arm of my chair from toppling backward at the loss of him.

Am I already theirs?

This estate has already begun to unravel me, and I fear the longer I’m here, the longer the unweaving will continue.

18

BREWING STORMS

LUCIEN

Snow falls in droves against the whistling wind outside the estate, even quieting the sound of the ocean below.

Seraphine is sleeping deeply behind me as I watch it, echoes of the past on the surface of my mind as things develop.

This isn’t the ending any of us would’ve chosen, but I think that Ironwood Estate has a way of selecting its own narrative.

The creak of a floorboard draws my attention from the window to the door, a white, flowing gown and a gaunt face reminding me why we’re all here.

“Leave her be,” I growl in warning.

White eyes flash in Sera’s direction, her neck twisting awkwardly. Her mouth opens, and butterflies—monarchs—escape, filling the room.

“I said leave her be!” Rushing at her, she retreats into the hall. Her long, bony fingers, devoid of flesh, lift and point toward the ceiling.

“Go!”

Elias steps out of his room, his eyes widening at the sight of her.

She’s one of many this house has consumed over the years. One of the souls it uses as fuel to grow stronger.

At first, we thought it was the land, but it didn’t take long to realize it was the estate itself.

Even we don’t understand it, despite everything that has happened.

We merely survive it the best we can.

She blinks out of existence after a longing look toward Sera, and I sigh, turning to Elias.