He closed his eyes, letting the steam caress his face as he inhaled deeply. His thoughts drifted in the quietude of this stolen moment. But as he exhaled, a subtle shift occurred. He opened his eyes to see the steam around him darkening, twisting into wisps of black that snaked through the air like tendrils of smoke. Cillian’s brow furrowed, and he sat up straighter, peering through the swirling shadows. He reached his fingers out to touch them. And before he could react, the darkness surged forward, swarming him in a suffocating embrace.
He gasped, his hands clutching the tub’s sides as the world dissolvedinto a void.
When his vision cleared, he was no longer in the familiar confines of his bath. He stood in a surreal, dreamlike landscape, a vast expanse of undulating shadows beneath a sky ablaze with red hues. And there, among the otherworldly scene, stood the white-haired woman.
She was a few paces away, her pale skin luminescent against the somber backdrop. Gone was the unsettling purr of seduction that had unnerved him during their previous encounters. Now, her expression was soft, almost welcoming.
“Cillian,” she murmured, her voice a soothing melody that seemed to resonate within him.
He hesitated, his instincts urging him to remain quiet, but her gentle demeanor disarmed him.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “What do you want?”
She tilted her head, her frost-white hair shimmering in the red light. “I’m here for you,” she replied. “Whenever you need someone to talk to. Someone who truly understands.”
“Understands what?”
“You, of course,” she answered with a wide grin. “I see you, Cillian. The real you. Not the boy everyone coddles or the fragile soul they pity. You are far more than they realize.”
Her words pierced through the carefully constructed facade he had built around himself. His defenses crumbled as she echoed the doubts and insecurities he had kept hidden for so long.
“You don’t know me,” he muttered, his voice lacking conviction.
“Don’tI?” she replied, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with something wicked. “Aren’t you the heir to Lord Aron Duskwood? The sharp-eyed and clever one who sees what others are too blind or too dull to grasp?” She paused, savoring the moment before her voice dippedlower. “That’s what makes you different, Cillian. That’s why you intrigue me. And that’s exactly why I’m here.”
A foreign thought slipped into his mind, one that didn’t even feel like his own.No one has ever truly seen you. Not even Evelyne.His jaw tensed as he forced the thought away.No… that’s not true.His sister knew him. She always had. Whatever this woman—thisthing—was, it was toying with his mind.
He wanted to reject her remarks, to shove them out, but instead he asked, “Why do you care?”
Her smile softened. “Because I see potential in you. Greatness. And because I understand what it feels like to be alone.”
He saw through the lie, though a treacherous part of him longed to believe it.
As she turned to leave, she leaned close, her voice a whisper against his ear. “I see you, Cillian. The true you. Don’t let them hide you away.”
Before he could respond, a blinding flash of red light engulfed everything, and a vivid image of a deep crimson moon seared into his mind. Its eerie glow rippled across the darkened sky, twisting and shifting as though alive.
He awoke with a start, water sloshing over the sides of the tub. His breath came in ragged gasps as he frantically scanned the room. The steam had faded back to its usual pale color, and he shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering hallucination. But the image still pulsed behind his eyes, refusing to fade.
Chapter 7
Seraphine and Aurelia had spent the afternoon meticulously preparing Evelyne for the evening’s feast. Their focus was primarily on what she should say, how she should act, and the image she should project. However, Evelyne’s thoughts were consumed by a more pressing concern: her mother’s threat to marry her off to Lord Bavrick. The prospect filled her with dread, and she was desperate to escape the impending disaster.
Evelyne understood that not all marriages were based on passionate love. Many were arrangements of convenience, alliances formed for political or financial gain. But she had always hoped for something better than the fate that awaited her with Lord Bavrick. He was precisely the sort of gentleman who mistook silence for admiration and wealth for character.
She was to avoid him at all costs during the Stonebridge feast. The annual event was always a grand affair, with a lavish spread of food and drink and a gathering of the most prominent families in the region. Evelyne usually enjoyed the feast, particularly as the seating arrangement allowed her to converse without moving around. She could simply sit, eat, drink, and chat with those around her.
As for tonight, she would still engage in conversation, but her goal would be to catch the eye of any decent gentleman who wasnotIvan Bavrick. She would smile, flirt, and do whatever it took to attract theattention of anyone who could offer her an escape from her mother’s plans. It would be a challenge. Her mother would be keeping a close eye on her, and Lord Bavrick wouldn’t be far, ready to stake his claim. But she was determined to navigate the treacherous waters of the feast and emerge victorious, with her future secured on her terms.
The grand hall of the Stonebridge Manor held a splendor Evelyne had always admired but seldom witnessed up close. The vaulted ceilings soared above, their dark oak beams carved with ancient motifs of vines and symbols. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, their embroidered tales depicting battles and alliances, the legacy of the Stonebridge family stitched into every thread. The air was rich with the scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and fresh greenery, while a pianoforte in the corner added a gentle melody.
Banquet tables stretched the length of the hall, set beneath silver chandeliers that cast a soft, flickering light. Nobles in their finest attire filled the space, their conversations a mix of quiet scheming and lighthearted laughter. Evelyne recognized a few familiar faces but didn’t linger, keeping pace with her family as they moved through the crowd.
She wore a deep emerald velvet gown that fit her perfectly. Seraphine had left her long brown hair mostly loose, pinning back one side with a delicate clip to reveal a simple silver earring. She rarely thought of herself as beautiful, but tonight, with so many eyes on her, she allowed herself to feel it. She inhaled deeply, her heart fluttering as she sensed the guests’ gazes sweeping over her and her family.
Beside her, Lady Celeste moved with grace in a pale silver gown, a striking contrast to Evelyne’s deeper hues, while Aurelia followed closely behind. Although married, Aurelia still attended events to uphold the Duskwood name, a steady symbol of the family’s influence.And their father, dressed in black, had a quiet but undeniable presence that commanded respect without a word.
As they made their way through the hall, Evelyne kept her head high, though she couldn’t help but wish her brother were there to steady her in the overwhelming crowd. It felt selfish, longing for his company when his mind wasn’t ready to endure such gatherings.
