CHAPTER EIGHT
I told him I was fine.
What else was I supposed to say?
Laxton had already asked twice-his voice too careful, too controlled. And I knew that tone. It wasn't concern. It was caution.
I couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet.
So I smiled, just enough to make it believable. "I'm okay," I said, forcing my voice not to crack. "Just... saw someone strange."
Laxton frowned, subtle but sharp. "Strange how?"
I hesitated. "She didn't feel like she belonged. Like something was... wrong."
He tilted his head. "What did she look like?"
I glanced toward the woods, still feeling that invisible weight pressing down on my chest. "I don't know. Tall. Pale. Black coat. Her eyes-" I stopped.
He waited.
I swallowed hard. "Never mind. Probably nothing."
But Laxton's jaw twitched. "There are no outsiders in Gravenia," he said quietly. "Especially not dressed like that."
The way he said it made something coil in my stomach. His voice was calm-too calm. Like he didn't believe me. Or worse... like he did.
Then he smiled, easy and light. "But you're probably just tired. The woods can play tricks. Shadows. Nerves. You'll be fine after some rest."
I wanted to believe him. I really did.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting those cold, distant eyes to appear again through the trees. But the forest was still.
Too still.
When we reached my doorstep, Laxton paused. "You sure you're okay?"
I nodded, though my hands trembled slightly as I reached for the handle. "Thanks for walking me back."
"Anytime." He gave a little wave, turned, and walked away down the path. I stood there for a moment, watching him fade into the trees. Only when the sound of his footsteps disappeared did I finally let myself breathe.
I went inside and shut the door behind me.
Then I locked it.
The room was dark. I didn't bother lighting a candle. I just stood there, heart pounding, trying to calm down.
She was probably no one.
Probably.
But my stomach was still tight with dread. That feeling hadn't left me. The way she looked at me, like she knew me, or worse-owned me. And I couldn't shake what I hadn't told Laxton.
I knew her name.
I didn't know how. But the moment I looked into her eyes, something inside me whispered it-cold, certain, unmistakable.
Lady Vierell.
The name alone made my skin crawl.
My parents had whispered that name once. Just once. The night before they died.
Slaughtered.
And left bloodless.
I turned from the door, ready to collapse onto the bed, when I saw it.
Her.
At the window.
Standing just outside. Perfectly still. Perfectly silent.
Her black coat caught the light. Her hair gleamed like midnight oil. And her eyes-
Gods, her eyes.
Locked on mine.
Cold. Eternal. Empty.
Like she was already inside me.
I couldn't move. Couldn't think. My lungs seized, my chest caving in. The air around me felt wrong, like it was shrinking. Like she had stolen all of it.
Then my knees buckled.
I dropped to the floor, gasping-no, choking-desperate for air that wouldn't come.
Hands clawed at my chest. My lungs spasmed. I tried to scream but all that came out was a rasp.
I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. Just like them.
The door slammed open.
"Nahila?!"
Laxton.
His boots pounded against the floor as he rushed in. "Nahila, hey-hey! Look at me!"
I was on the ground, choking on air, gripping the edges of the window frame like it could hold me together.
My whole body shook uncontrollably.
Laxton dropped beside me, grabbing my shoulders.
"Breathe. Come on, Nahila, breathe! Look at me. Look-at-me."
I met his eyes, wide and frantic, and he nodded, slowly exaggerating his own breathing.
"In... and out. With me. Okay? Just... follow me."
My lungs burned, but somehow-through his voice, his presence-I found the rhythm again.
In.
Out.
Shaky. Sloppy. But real.
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest.
"I've got you. You're okay. You're safe."
"She was-she was-" I choked out between gasps, pointing toward the window with a trembling hand. My eyes were wide, wild. "S-she was there! I saw her! I saw-"
Laxton turned sharply toward the window, eyes scanning. His body went rigid.
But the window was empty.
No woman. No shadow. No sign.
"Shh," he whispered, pulling me against his chest, rocking me slightly. "You're okay. You're okay now. I've got you."
But he was lying. I could feel it in his arms.
He'd seen something too.
And that terrified me even more.