“She’s nearby,” said the taller one. “He said she always returns to the grave.”
Then the other man’s voice was heard over the wind. “I don’t like this place. Something about it feels… wrong.”
“Then hurry up and find her so we can leave.”
Their boots crunched slowly over gravel as they passed. Isobel stayed frozen behind the stone, her skirts soaked, her knees trembling. She didn’t move until their voices vanished like smoke.
She rose, heart thudding. Her mouth tasted of copper and fear. She’d been a fool not to stay at the flat. She should have waited for Elias to return. But no, she’d had to come back for her veil, her gloves, some clothes, and the last few scraps of a life that wasn’t hers anymore.
The gate to her garden creaked as she pushed it open, the sound far too loud in the hush. Vines tangled her skirts, thorns snagging at her hem as she rushed to the door. It stood ajar.
No! She’d locked it. She’dlatchedit.
She hesitated on the threshold, every instinct screaming to run, except that she couldn’t. Not without her things. Not without knowing what waited inside.
Before stepping through, he lit her lantern again and held it high… and nearly dropped it as a figure stepped out of the shadows.
“Isobel.”
Elias.His voice—low, ragged, unmistakably him—cut through her terror like a bell ringing in the dark.
She gasped. Her lantern clattered to the floor, casting a wild arc of light across the walls. His hand was on her in an instant, steadying her, fingers curling tight around her arm.
Her knees gave out. The cold, the fear, the pressure, it all broke at once.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice barely more than a growl.
“I had to come back—” she began.
“To what?” His eyes burned into hers. “Tothis? To walking blindly through a cursed fog while Norton’s men circle like vultures? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I was careful—”
“You were reckless,” he snapped, stepping forward, fury radiating from him like heat from a furnace. “I came back to the flat and you were gone. No note. No word. Justgone.I thought—God help me—I thought I’d lost you, again.”
The fury broke then, not into violence, but into something worse: raw, shaking vulnerability.
He ran a hand through his hair, breathing hard. “I’ve fought in the snow without shoes. I’ve bled through my own shirt to keep others alive. I’ve watched friends die with their eyes open. Butnothinghas ever hit me like walking into that empty room and realizing you’d vanished.”
She stared at him, stunned, her heart breaking to see him so devastated. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think—”
“No. You didn’t,” he said, quieter now, his voice laced with pain. “Because you still think no one sees you. No onechoosesyou. But you’re wrong. I would tear down the gates of this cursed city if it meant keeping you safe.”
She could barely breathe.
He stepped closer, eyes on hers. “You’re not invisible, Isobel. Not to me. You never were.”
She felt something inside her fracture… something long buried and held tight. A sob rose in her throat. She didn’t mean to move, but her body did. She stepped forward and threw her arms around his chest, clutching the fabric of his coat. His arms closed around her instantly, fiercely. He buried his face in her hair and held her so tightly it ached.
Then he kissed her. Not softly. Not cautiously. But like a man who had nearly lost everything and wasn’t willing to risk it again.
Her mouth opened to his without thinking. Her hands slid to his jaw, his throat, his back—anything solid to keep from unraveling. The kiss deepened, mouths sliding, breaths tangled, hearts pounding.
When he pulled her closer still, she whimpered. He cupped her face like she was something he couldn’t bear to break. They kissed like it was the only way to speak. And maybe it was.
They broke apart, both gasping, their foreheads pressed together, skin damp with fog and heat and everything in between.
He closed his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again.”
