Sarima's eyes widened as she clutched the smooth black envelope tightly, her fingers pressing into its custom edges. Instinctively, her gaze drifted anxiously through the shifting crowd. Her father's arrival only made it worse. People moved, applauded, blocked her view, swallowing the exact spot where she had seen him standing moments ago.
Then she saw him again.
A tall man in an elegant mask.
Her search stopped instantly.
Their eyes met like he had been waiting for her to notice him.
A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as time seemed to slow around her. The noise of the ballroom faded into nothing. He stood perfectly still in the moving crowd, watching her with an intensity that made her heartbeat spike painfully against her ribs.
Then he turned and walked away.
Sarima moved before she could think. She followed immediately, pushing through people and stretching for a clearer view. She caught glimpses of him between bodies and lights, the sharp line of his shoulder, the back of his suit, long fingers brushing carelessly past strangers. Every time she got closer, he disappeared again.
Then she saw him once more, but a hand suddenly grabbed her arm.
"Sarima, I've been looking for you!" Havi said loudly.
No.
Not now.
Sarima strained to look past her friend, but he was already gone.
"Is everything alright?" Havi asked, concern filling her eyes.
"I'm coming, Havi… I just have something to do right now," Sarima said quickly before pulling away.
She headed toward the double doors at the far end of the ballroom. Her dress suddenly felt too tight. Her heels unbearable. Without hesitation, she kicked them off and started running.
Her bare feet hit the cold ground outside.
A light drizzle soaked into her skin instantly, but she didn't stop. She looked left. Then right.
Nothing.
A gamble.
She chose left.
Darkness surrounded the estate as she kept moving farther away from the manor, deeper into the silence beyond it. Too far.
She reached the back of the property, her mind screaming at her to turn back, but her feet refused to listen.
Then she saw movement.
A figure slipping between the trees.
The woods.
A massive stretch her family had never touched, almost as if they preferred pretending nature didn't exist beyond their perfect estate.
Sarima moved toward it carefully. The moment she stepped inside, the sound of the party vanished completely, swallowed by crickets and rustling leaves. Every step she took felt too loud. Too exposed.
Still, she kept going.
Deeper.
Moonlight barely touched the ground beneath the towering trees. Silence wrapped tightly around her.
She turned suddenly.
Nothing.
No manor.
No music.
Only trees.
Panic rose sharply in her chest.
She was lost.
But somehow, she continued moving forward anyway, step after step, branches scraping against her skin. Her eyes stung as tears threatened to spill.
Then she remembered her shoes.
Still back at the manor.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her.
Who chases a stalker blindly?
Frustrated, she kicked at a branch and immediately slipped.
The muddy ground gave way beneath her.
Sarima tumbled down a slope, her heart slamming violently against her ribs as tears finally spilled from her eyes. She pushed herself upright quickly, only for pain to shoot sharply through her ankle.
A sprain.
She sniffled, wiping her face against her already ruined dress as something scurried past her in the dark. A rat.
Panic clawed at her again.
The rain had stopped, but she was soaked, filthy, shaking.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
Then she saw it.
A faint glow in the distance.
Hope. Small. Fragile. Enough.
Sarima limped toward it slowly. At first it looked like firelight, but as she got closer, she realized it was a shed.
And there were voices.
"That's what happened," Tristan said.
Her steps slowed instantly.
Tristan?
Her brothers.
"So this is where you guys have been…" she murmured under her breath from a distance.
She realized she hadn't seen them at the party at all.
Standing at a slightly higher point, she gained a clearer view, and relief flickered briefly inside her chest.
Until she saw the bodies.
Piled together.
Her blood ran cold.
Disgust twisted violently through her stomach as she staggered backward, but before she could react further, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth.
She froze instantly.
Too shocked to move.
She shifted slightly on instinct, putting her weight on her sprained leg. Leaves crunched beneath her feet, drawing her brothers attention.
Strong arms pulled her backward immediately, pressing her behind a large tree just as footsteps approached.
Her brothers.
Close.
Far too close.
A small whimper escaped her throat as she was pulled tighter against a hard chest. Then silence fell again. The footsteps slowly faded into the distance.
Only then was she released.
Sarima stepped away shakily before looking up.
He was already staring down at her.
Not with judgment.
Not disgust.
Not cruelty.
Something else.
Something knowing.
Recognition hit her instantly.
The clinic.
Those lingering stares.
Black hair tied loosely at the back, wet strands falling over his face. White streaks rested at the tips of his hair.
Light blue eyes.
And under the moonlight, he looked unreal.
Aetos.
The man the maids whispered about.
The man her father feared.
His gaze dropped briefly to her bare feet pressed against the cold earth before lifting back to her face.
"This is no place for a princess," he said softly, his voice low, husky, and edged with the faintest trace of hoarseness.