“Let her go!”
Both Evelyne and Ivan froze. Alaric stood at the mouth of the alley, his eyes dark and his posture radiating menace.
Lord Bavrick released Evelyne with a laugh, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Perhaps you should tell this lady to stop being such a tease. She—”
Alaric closed the distance in a flash, his fist colliding withIvan’s jaw. The force sent Ivan staggering backward, nearly collapsing to the ground.
“If I ever see you lay a hand on another woman again,” Alaric growled, “I’ll kill you.”
Ivan mumbled a curse beneath his breath and stumbled out of the alley, one hand pressed to his face.
Though his hands were no longer on her, Evelyne remained frozen. She could only shrink deeper into the wall, her body trembling as she clutched her coat to her chest like a shield.
Alaric approached cautiously and extended a hand. “Evelyne?” he asked softly.
Unable to speak, she practically fell into his arms. His hold was steady, offering the reassurance she desperately needed. Without a word, he led her back to the carriage, his presence grounding her as she struggled to calm herself.
At the carriage, her sister was waiting. Aurelia’s usual brightness dimmed the moment she saw Evelyne’s tear-streaked face, her expression now marked by concern.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice sharp with worry.
Evelyne opened her mouth, but no sound came. She simply shook her head, unable to force the words past the knot in her throat.
“Evelyne,” Aurelia said again, more insistently this time, alarm creeping into her tone. But before she could press further, Alaric met her gaze with a look that said everything without speaking:not now.
To Evelyne’s surprise, Aurelia actually listened. She sat, lips pressed tight. The silence between them deepened, and Evelyne was grateful; words would have broken her.
As Alaric turned to go, Evelyne reached out with trembling fingers, grazing his sleeve. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “Staywith me… please.”
He hesitated for only a moment before easing down beside her, wrapping her gently in his arms as the carriage rolled toward Duskwood Manor. She needed something—someone—to anchor her, and in that moment, only he offered even the faintest sense of safety. She clungto that, and to him.
Chapter 13
As the manor came into sight, a faint sense of calm settled over Evelyne. Alaric assisted her and Aurelia from the carriage and accompanied them toward the steps, his nearness a reminder that the danger had passed. Evelyne’s pace slowed, and soon Aurelia moved ahead. Her sister glanced back, a trace of worry in her eyes, but held her tongue. Whatever she perceived was enough. She disappeared through the door, leaving Evelyne and Alaric standing together beneath the gentle glow of the lanterns.
Evelyne turned slowly to face Alaric, and he hesitated before moving closer, as if afraid she might retreat. Something in her gaze must have stirred him, because his blue eyes now carried a sorrowful depth.
“I’m truly sorry for what you have endured, Evelyne,” he said sincerely. “He is a wretched excuse for a man, and I swear to you—he will not escape justice.”
She regarded him for a moment before taking his hands and lifting them to her lips. Her kiss upon his knuckles conveyed what words could not. When her eyes met his again, a single tear slipped free.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Alaric’s expression softened. “Ofcourse, my lady.”
“Please stay a bit longer,” she murmured, turning toward the manor with her hand resting lightly on his arm. She led him forward, and he followed without resistance.
Inside, Evelyne made for the library and shrugged off her overcoat, carefully laying it over an armchair to keep the book she had brought for Cillian from tumbling to the floor. She eased herself onto the library’s familiar leather couch, its worn cushions embracing her as she sank. Her body felt heavy with emotion, and the warmth of the room and the crackling fireplace brought little comfort. Next to her, Alaric settled at the opposite end of the couch, his posture seemingly at ease, though his gaze held a contained intensity.
Moments later, Mauri appeared with steaming refreshments, setting them down gently before retreating. Time blurred. Evelyne wasn’t sure if minutes or hours passed as they sat there in silence, and her hands still trembled as she cupped her tea. She hadn’t spoken a word since stepping inside, and Alaric, true to his nature, hadn’t pushed her.
Evelyne glanced at him, noting the attentiveness in his eyes as they lingered on her.
“If you would prefer solitude, I shall take my leave,” he offered softly.
She shook her head. “No. I would much rather you stayed, if it is not an imposition.”
“An imposition?” His lips curved faintly. “Never. I would sooner remain, if only to be certain you are truly well.”
