I stared at her. "Hellhounds."
"Cerb and Styx. They're sweethearts. They'll probably adore you."
My brain had officially stopped processing. I was standing in a moonlit clearing, surrounded by supernatural criminals, being told I couldn't leave because I'd seen too much, and the witch was talking about hellhounds like they were golden retrievers.
"Your bag," Azrael said quietly, and I turned to find him holding my purple tote. He must have retrieved it while I was having my existential crisis. "The raccoon dropped it near the tree line. Your belongings appear intact, though the chocolate is... partially consumed."
I took the bag with shaking hands. The familiar weight of it grounded me, reminded me that I was still Lizzie, still human, stillme, even if everything else had gone completely insane.
"Thank you," I managed.
Azrael nodded. His fingers brushed mine as he released the bag, and a shock ofsomething—warmth, electricity, recognition—shot up my arm. His eyes widened fractionally, and I saw something flicker in their golden depths before he stepped back.
"Come," Darius said, turning toward a path I hadn't noticed before. It led deeper into the woods, away from the clearing and the glowing symbol and the torches. "We'll continue this discussion at the manor. Lucien, ensure she doesn't run."
Lucien appeared at my side like a summoned shadow. He didn't touch me, but his presence was a physical weight, a wall of heat and menace that made my skin prickle.
"If you try to escape," he said, low enough that only I could hear, "I'll catch you. And I won't be gentle."
A shiver ran down my spine—and not entirely from fear.
"Noted," I whispered back. "But for the record? I still think you're adorable when you're trying to be scary."
His step faltered. His jaw tightened. And beneath the scowl, beneath the predatory gleam in his amber eyes, I caught a flicker of something that looked almost likeconfusion.
Like no one had ever dared to tease him before.
Like he didn't know what to do with a girl who looked at a monster and saw something worth poking.
Good, I thought, clutching my tote bag to my chest as we walked into the darkness.Let him be confused. Let all of them be confused. If I'm going to be a prisoner in a supernatural mafia manor, I'm going to be the most annoying, unpredictable, absolutely chaotic prisoner they've ever had.
The trees parted, and I caught my first glimpse of the manor.
It rose from the forest like something out of a Gothic dream—three stories of dark stone and pointed spires, every window glowing with warm light. Wrought-iron gates stood open at the end of a gravel drive, and gargoyles perched on the roof's edges, their stone eyes seeming to follow our approach. It was beautiful and terrifying and absolutely, undeniablynota place normal people lived.
"This is insane," I murmured.
Selene, still holding my arm, squeezed gently. "Welcome home, darling. Try not to die."
The gates swung shut behind us with a sound like a prison door closing.
And somewhere in the distance, I could have sworn I heard a raccoon laughing.
The foyer was exactly as overwhelming as I'd expected—black and white marble floors, a sweeping staircase with ornate railings, a chandelier that looked like it cost more than my entire apartment building. Candles flickered in sconces along the walls, casting dancing shadows across portraits of people who looked like they'd never smiled in their immortal lives.
Lucien peeled off immediately, disappearing up the stairs without a word. I watched him go, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were still clenched at his sides. The boop had clearly broken something in his brain, and I wasn't sure whether to be proud or terrified.
Selene guided me toward a sitting room off the main hall, and I sank onto a velvet sofa that probably cost more than my car. Azrael settled into an armchair across from me, his golden eyes still fixed on my face with that unsettling intensity. Darius remained standing, arms crossed, radiating authority like a space heater radiated warmth.
"Let me make this perfectly clear," Darius began. "You are here because you stumbled into something you shouldn't have seen. We cannot allow you to leave until we're certain you won't expose us. That means you will stay in this manor, under our supervision, until further notice."
"And how long is 'further notice'?" I asked.
"Indefinitely."
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
"I have a life," I said quietly. "A job. An apartment. Friends who will notice if I disappear."
