Page 29

No movement.

Just…waiting.

Someone had set it anyway.

I kept walking. Back toward my room. But I stopped. The house opened up around me. A wide space. Quiet. Still. Corridors branching in different directions. Something in me tightened. My gaze drifted—slowly, deliberately—to the darker hallway. The east wing. I didn’t need to be told. I knew. That was his. Where he slept. Where he stayed. Where he didn’t let anyone in.

The thought settled deeper than it should’ve. Heavy. Unwelcome. And yet⁠—

I didn’t look away.

Something pulled.

Low.

Quiet.

Wrong.

I swallowed, forcing my gaze forward. But it lingered. That feeling. That pull. Like stepping closer to something I shouldn’t touch—just to see what would happen.

I kept walking, heading to my own wing in this never ending house. The air shifted as I headed deeper. Towering windows let in more light. Sheer floor to ceiling curtains gave it a filtered feel, the light never quite reaching all the way, leaving the edges shadowed and uneven. I opened my door and stepped into my own suite.

The room was too big, too quiet and still. Like it was somehow…waiting. But waiting for what I didn’t know. Muted blush tones were pinned in place by the dark, ash grey. Soft fabrics, plush rugs. The room was made for someone like me—just not me. It was too…much. And far too beautiful. The complete opposite to me.

I shifted my focus, my attention drawn to the room. Something was different. A pair of shoes sat outside the entrance to the walk-in-robe. Shoes I knew well.

I stepped closer, then bent, wincing at the deep stab of pain in my thigh and picked up my shoe that I’d left in my room with the Daughters.

I’ll send for your things.

Guild’s words slipped back from last night.

I just didn’t expect they’d get rid of me so quick.

I dropped my shoe back to the ground and stepped into the robe. My clothes were neatly hung along the wall. A few dresses. Two pairs of oversized pants and some simply comfortable tops and a sweater. I didn’t dress to impress. I dressed for comfort and safety. But against the beauty of this room, my clothes looked ugly.

A white long box lay at the end of the robe atop the drawers. A thick pink ribbon tied around the middle. I moved toward it, pulling the small card tucked under the satin fold and turned it over.

You are stronger than you think.

V.

I stared at the card, then lifted my gaze to the box. My fingers curled, aching to open the lid and find out what Vivienne sent me. But the moment the need rose I froze. What would she send me in a box like this? Something a Daughter might need once she was taken. I flinched. How many of these ‘boxes’ did Vivienne send out today?

I thought of all the Daughters from last night talking to the many of London’s friends.

A lot, I’d expect.

Still, the need to see pinned me in place. I stared at that ribbon, then the edge of the box. I stepped closer, my breath catching. What would Vivienne send me? Whatever it was she picked it herself. I softly bit my lip and dug my fingers under the edge and lifted.

Soft pink.

That’s all I saw at first.

I pushed the top aside and reached in, slipping under the soft blush tissue paper. My fingers skimmed soft fabric, drawing me closer. I couldn’t stop now, reaching in with both hands to find the shoulders of the garment and pulled it free.

It was breathtaking. Soft, flowing, sheer fabric that didn’t hide a thing. I stilled, the image filled my head.