(Ruby's POV)
The main hall is empty when we walk in.
The staff is in the kitchens. Mrs. MacLeod is in her quarters. The cameras are watching, but the eyes behind them are lazy. No one expects a show this late.
Nicholas looks at me. His face is hard, cold. The Beast is back.
"Remember," he says, low enough that only I can hear. "When I start shouting, you shout back. Don't hold back. Don't be afraid to hurt my feelings."
I almost laugh. "I won't."
He nods. Then he takes a breath, and his face transforms. The warmth drains away. The softness hardens. He looks like a stranger.
"You think you can just wander the house whenever you want?" he shouts, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You think the rules don't apply to you?"
I flinch, even though I know it's fake. His voice is so loud. So angry.
"I wasn't wandering," I say, my voice shaking. "I was looking for you."
"Looking for me? I was in the west wing. Where I always am. Where you're not supposed to go."
