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“Moira,” Rowan whispered, which jerked my focus back to him. The look of masculine amusement had my brain itching as a warmth washed over me. Opening the door farther, I offered him a dreamy smile. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Won’t you come inside, Rowan Teivel?” I invited in a demure, velvety voice. Then a vague awareness that I’d done something wrong slammed into me, and I squeezed my eyes closed against the sensation. The hair on my nape tickled, and a chill shot down my spine, but I did not know what grievous error I’d made. When my eyelids opened again, the silver veins slithering around Rowan’s eyes and his obsidian irises had me back-stepping so fast I almost fell.
“I’d love to, gorgeous,” he murmured before he stepped over the threshold.
The moment Rowan entered the manor, glass shattered in the hallway. Feminine screams of horror tore through the narrow space, as if the entire Bishop line had felt the breach and wanted their displeasure to be known. Wind kicked up around me, making my skin prickle, and Rowan grabbed ahold of me. Leaning forward, he whispered against my ear.
“You are simply delicious, my sweet girl, but you’re in trouble for letting me inside the one place I couldn’t enter without an invitation.” He shifted his attention to whomever stood behind me and added, “Poor, sweet girl. You’re in over your lovely head.” My entire body shook violently, as if I fought against something I couldn’t escape.
“What’ve you done, child?” Grams asked, with tears swimming in her eyes.
“Moira’s lovely, Violet—ignorant about the monsters creeping so close to your home, but exquisite all the same. Don’t be too hard on the poor thing. After all, it isn’t really her fault you did so little to prepare her for something like me. If you didn’t want the beast feasting on the beauty, then you should’ve warned her. After all, it is your responsibility to keep her safe from monsters like me. Isn’t it?”
“Moira isn’t a part of this fight, demon!”
If she thought that was the case, then why did she look so fearful?
“Isn’t she? I don’t recall anyone being off-limits to me.” Pulling me against the taut hardness of his body, he leaned down to whisper against my ear. “You should go get changed while I have a little chat with your grandmother. Dress in something pretty for me, but don’t take too long. We need to handle the result of our little tryst in the meadow before it can grow into an issue.”
I frowned in confusion as panic slithered through me, yet still, I felt relaxed and filled with the strange, dreamlike sensation I’d woken up with.
“No need to worry. I’d never let anything harm you. At least not until I’ve finished with you. Now go,” he stated, before giving me a little push toward the stairs.
His eyes flicked to the women and men lingering in the hallway, staring at him. When I didn’t immediately start up the stairs, he cut an impatient look my way.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Moira Darling. Neverland can get much, much worse if you piss me off.”
Chapter Seven
Moira
OnceIwasinsidemy room, the dreamlike heavy haze faded, and I struggled to remember getting out of bed, which I’d obviously done. There was a throbbing ache in my temples, and no matter how hard I rubbed them, it didn’t ease. It felt like I’d spent all last night partying, gotten fall-down drunk, and woke with the worst hangover of my life.
It took some effort, but I eventually managed to grab my backpack so I could find something pretty to wear. After emptying my bag and discovering nothing good enough, I froze, a frown wrinkling my brow.
What the hell was wrong with me, and why did it matter if I wore somethingpretty? I had no idea, but something in my mind demanded I do so. I glanced toward my closet, doubting anything inside would still fit me five years later, but I might get lucky.
The hinges creaked as I pulled the door open before reaching for and tugging the string attached to the light above. A deep, irritated groan escaped as I took in the assortment of clothing that hung sadly on wooden hangers. The selection of dresses was rather limited. Two of them were appropriate for clubbing and nothing else, so I grabbed the lace kimono wrap, skater mini that Aunt Katrina had sent me. It was light and airy, with a low neckline that showed a little cleavage but wasn’t too revealing.
With that decided, I grabbed my toiletries and a change of undergarments and headed to the bedroom at the other end of the second-floor hallway. It was the closest one with a full shower in it.
I was in and out of the water far faster than I would’ve liked, but was thankful that fixing my hair and applying cosmetics didn’t take long. I hoped Rowan approved of the blush-colored dress I’d chosen. The thought had me glaring at my reflection for a second before I abandoned the small, tidy bathroom and headed downstairs for tea.
As I neared the hallway with the pictures of the women in our line, my footsteps slowed. Every single pane of glass had shattered, and each woman who had been memorialized in this house since before I was born had tears of blood staining her cheeks. As I shuffled forward, careful to avoid what glass I could, I realized I no longer felt their eyes trailing me like I usually did. It was as if they’d left the house or abandoned us to our fate. Goosebumps spread over my naked arms as I reached the mouth of the hallway, and when I turned the corner into the kitchen, what I found had me frozen in mute horror.
Everyone but Rowan was seated around the old wooden table that had an aerial view of a willow tree carved into the face. Blood filled each of the deeply carved limbs of the tree and seemed to run toward the trunk, filling it before vanishing.
“There’s my pretty girl,” he murmured tenderly, from where he leaned against the counter. Grams swore in a volley of obscene words at his statement, and his eyes just lit with amusement. “I’d be very careful with what comes out of your mouth next. Moira’s life currently hangs in the balance. If you tip the scale, I’ll walk out of here and let you deal with the aftermath of our iniquitously licentious night spent together. She’s exquisite, honestly. Come here, darling.” His hand extended as the other braced his weight against the counter.
As I did as he bid, I left bloody footprints in my wake. No pain touched my mind, which was almost as terrifying as blindly following his orders. It felt like a part of the dream, but I knew it wasn’t. So how the hell was he controlling me? This shit didn’t happen in the real world. When I came to a stop in front of him, I placed my hand into his and squealed as he jerked me against the hard contour of his body. His free hand sank into the back of my hair and jerked my head to the side, forcing my eyes toward the others within the room.
“How is it she has these pretty emerald-green eyes and ashen hair?” he inquired before his nose trailed back and forth along my collarbone.
“We’re not entirely sure why her coloring isn’t the same as ours,” Grams whispered as tears swam in her gentle gaze. There was a plea within them, one which begged him not to hurt me. “Rowan, please. Be gentle with her. She’s unaware of what we are or of what lies beneath your polite façade.”
His soft huff of amusement kissed my skin. “How long do you intend to keep her in the dark? You may want her ignorant of the world around her, but I won’t lie to her. Besides, I rather enjoy her pleasure and might keep her as a pet,” he explained, which had a sob of horror bursting from her lips. “Your grandmother’s always been overdramatic. You didn’t seem to mind it earlier when I was inside you. Did you?”
A soft, needy hum escaped my lungs, and the smile he aimed toward Grams was so cold I felt it in my bones.
