Page 20

I sit down at the desk and type in my password. The bank of hidden cameras appears on screen. Twenty of them. I navigate past the bookshop and the streets surrounding it. I move past the cameras positioned outside Luna’s house, and the ones that line her journey to work. I keep going until I find the one I’m looking for.

The one that shows her sitting on the edge of the large four-poster bed in my bedroom.

In my house.

I sigh and lean back in my chair, relief flooding through me, chasing the thrill of her blood.

She is safe.

I have her.

She is safe.

When she stands and begins to pace back and forth, bracing her hands on her lower back, I force myself to close the feed and instead open up the recordings from the past twenty-four hours.

The bookshop. I need to see what happened when she opened the box.

The glow of the monitor casts eerie shadows across my face as I lean in, captivated by Luna’s movements. My eyes, far sharper than a human’s, catch every subtle shift in her expression as she sets the box down on the countertop.

As she traces the carvings on the lid, I frown and lean closer.

I hit pause, skip back a few seconds, then play it again.

Fuck.

I was right.

She is staring at the box, her breath is quickening, and all around her… the shadows that live in the crevices between the bookshelves, and beneath the desk, and in the hidden corners of the room, seem to respond to her touch.

She does not see them, but I do.

They stretch and curl in ways that defy natural light.

My breath catches. I have suspected it for so long… but I thought I was confusing my obsession with reality.

I thought I had come to believe she was special because I found her so irresistible.

But what if I was right?

When Luna finally opens the box, the room around her darkens, as if the very night is drawn to her presence. The shadows coalesce, forming a velvety cocoon around her. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible to mortal eyes, but to me, it’s unmistakable.

I watch, mesmerized, as she examines the contents of the box. Her hands are steady now. There’s a strength in her movements that I’ve longed to see. The same strength that shimmered on her skin when she watched the video of her tormentor being tormented.

It makes my heart swell with pride.

Oh, how I wish she could see how strong she is.

The moment she realizes what — who — the parts belong to, I lick my lips. Will this be the catalyst? The shadows pulse. A laugh bubbles up from her chest – a sound of relief, of liberation.

My cold heart swells with affection. She understands. She sees the gift for what it is – freedom from the man who made her life a living death.

As she lifts out Steven’s tongue, the shadows grow denser, absorbing the flickering light of the bookshop. They move with purpose now, as if Luna’s emotions are giving them form and direction. It is breathtaking to behold.

But then she looks up. The door opens.

I pause again and skip back. This time, I pay attention to the window and try to see past the shopfront into the street.

A figure moves into view.