The storm had been threatening all night, its growl weaving through the air like a beast pacing behind a cage. By the time I slipped into Blackthorne's west wing, rain struck the windows in hard, rhythmic beats, like impatient knuckles at a coffin lid. My lantern threw a trembling light against the walls, making the shadows dance like restless spirits.
The west wing was forbidden, even by Blackthorne standards. Every villager's tale warned that this part of the estate was where the worst of its secrets had been buried sealed doors, hidden rooms, the whisper of rituals that bent nature itself. The deeper I went, the more it felt like the mansion was breathing around me. The air thickened, heavy with mold, iron, and something I could only describe as dread.
Then I heard it.
A sound so faint it could have been imagined. A laugh. Soft, taunting, low enough to brush my skin like the stroke of a fingertip. My heart stopped, then lurched into a gallop. The laugh came again, closer this time, curling around the edges of the hall.
I swallowed, lifting the lantern higher.
That was when I saw him.
A figure at the end of the corridor, leaning lazily against the wall as though he'd been waiting all this time. The storm's lightning flashed, revealing sharp cheekbones, lips curved in a smile too knowing to be kind, and eyes God, those eyes.
They gleamed like spilled ink in firelight, too dark to hold color, yet too alive to be mistaken for empty. They locked onto me with a hunger so naked it was almost obscene, and I felt my stomach twist in a mix of terror and fascination.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice deep, smooth, a blade wrapped in velvet.
I should have turned. I should have run. But the mansion's secrets pulled at me, and so did he. Something about him belonged to the estate in the same way the ivy belonged to the stone wild, unrelenting, inevitable.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
His smile widened. "Who do you think I am?"
The lantern flickered violently, shadows stretching into grotesque shapes along the walls. For a moment, I swore horns curled out of his head, and his teeth gleamed sharper than human. My chest tightened. He took one step forward, and I instinctively took one back.
"Don't," he said. His tone wasn't loud, yet it pinned me to the floor like chains. "If you walk away now, you'll never know why you came. And you did come for a reason... didn't you?"
His words slipped into me like smoke, coiling around thoughts I hadn't admitted even to myself. Why had I really come here? To defy fear? To uncover truth? Or because part of me wanted this wanted him, even if he was the monster in every whispered story?
Lightning split the sky again, illuminating the west wing in ghastly brilliance. He was closer now. Too close. His eyes caught the light in a way that made them gleam with wicked promise. Eyes like sin black, endless, and daring me to step into the abyss.
"Tell me your name," I demanded, though my voice betrayed the tremor of my fear.
He tilted his head, amused. "Names are cages. Do you plan to chain me, little trespasser?"
The storm roared, wind rattling the shutters. My lantern sputtered out, plunging us into near-darkness. But his eyes didn't vanish. No they glowed faintly in the void, as if they were the source of light, unholy and magnetic.
Something inside me snapped. Logic screamed to run, but desire whispered louder: Stay. My legs refused to move. My breath quickened as he reached out, fingers grazing the air just inches from my cheek. The space between us burned.
"I've been watching you," he murmured. "Every step since you crossed my gates. Bold little lamb, walking straight into the wolf's den."
My pulse thundered in my ears. "And what do wolves do to lambs?" I asked, though I dreaded the answer.
His grin was sharp enough to cut. "That depends. Some lambs beg to be devoured."
The storm outside reached its climax, thunder shaking the walls of Blackthorne as if the earth itself objected to what was happening here. My chest rose and fell, caught between terror and temptation.
His hand finally touched my face cold, unnervingly so but it set fire racing beneath my skin. My body betrayed me, leaning into that touch even as my mind screamed of danger.
"Careful," he whispered, his lips near my ear. "Once you've seen me, truly seen me... you'll never be able to forget."
And I knew he was right. Because those eyes, those sinful eyes, had already branded themselves into the core of me. Whether he was ghost, demon, or devil himself, I had stepped too far into his world. And I wasn't sure I wanted to leave.
The storm raged on, but inside the west wing of Blackthorne estate, the real tempest had only just begun.
Love me in the shadows, lose me in the light. đź–¤