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I knew I was dancing with danger, but I held my ground. I lifted my chin. He didn’t give in. But he didn’t drag me back into the house either. So I took a step backwards and turned.

His stare was a weight on my back. Every second was like a caress of a sharpened blade. Still, I slid the book into my pocket then turned, easing myself to the ground.

I lowered myself slowly

Every move deliberate.

My pulse thundered.

I was sure he heard the sound.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t come closer.

I reached for the small white flowers at my side. My fingers trembled slightly as I brushed them. But I didn’t feel them. Not really. All I felt—was him. Behind me. Still. Watching.

My gaze shifted. Searching. Until a bird called out to my right, drawing my gaze.

Black crows swarmed the lower branches of a towering pine tree. Dozens of them, crowding the lower branches of a towering pine. So many the tree disappeared beneath the black of them. Wings beat against the air. Eyes glinted—wide, unblinking.

“Is this yours?” I murmured.

Then—

Froze.

“I’m sorry I—” I jerked my gaze to him.

But he was gone.

Heat climbed. Unwanted. I stared at the spot where he stood, then searched for him. But the gardens were empty. And so was the grounds around the house.

I hadn’t heard him move. I hadn’t heard anything at all.

An ache bloomed from somewhere deep inside. I hated the hunger. Hated the way he made me feel both terrified and want at the same time.

Crows called. I turned back, finding the blue-black shine once more. But the sight didn’t hold me. Neither did the flowers in my hand. I dropped my hand, finding the book in my pocket and made my way out of the gardens.

Where did you get this?

He knew the book. Of course he did. It was from his library, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t new.

It wasn’t meant for this house.

It was from before.

Before whatever broke him.

He hadn’t always been like this. Not so… cold—or blind. I was sure of it.

Stay where I can find you.

Stay out of the east wing.