ВойтиJack stood at the top of the narrow stone stairwell, one hand resting against the wall, the other clenched so tightly his knuckles ached.He had left Brian behind with no backward glance, his heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might tear its way out of his chest. “Move,” he whispered to himself.Jack didn't carry a torch because it was too obvious. Instead, he relied on memory, on the faint glow of wall-mounted sconces placed far apart, their flames weak and wavering.Two guards stood at the first gate and they were obviously getting tired of just standing in one place. Jack knew he needed to get past them without being seen and doing that sounded easily said than done.The only way to get past them without getting seen was to knock them out and Jack had the perfect solution.He picked up two stones and flung the with full speed at the two guards. It collided with a huge force on their heads and they fell to the ground unconscious.Jack slid past them and made his way inside
Brian leaned back against the smooth marble edge of the large bath, arms stretched wide, eyes half-lidded in indulgence.Two girls knelt at the edge of the pool, their fingers worked scented oils into his shoulders and arms. Another stood behind him, carefully pouring warm water over his dark hair, her movements practiced and reverent. Laughter bubbled from Brian’s chest, low and amused, as one of them splashed him accidentally.“Careful,” he said. “You’ll ruin the illusion that I’m being pampered like a king.”The girl flushed and apologized quickly, though her smile lingered.Beneath Brian’s relaxed posture and teasing tone, his senses were sharp. He did not need to turn his head to know he was not alone beyond the bath.Jack had been watching since yesterday.Brian felt him like a weight at the edge of the room, controlled, restrained, and restless. The kind of presence that tried very hard not to be seen, which only made it more obvious to someone who knew what to look for.Desmo
The silence did not break when Becca and Mira returned to the main room, if anything, it thickened.Max stood where Becca had left him, the knife now resting untouched on the table beside him. He stared at nothing in particular, his expression carefully blank, as though he had locked every thought behind a door he refused to open. When he heard their footsteps, he did not turn.Mira slowed, her steps faltering for half a heartbeat before she forced herself to continue walking, passing him without a glance. The space between them felt deliberate now, like two warriors circling a wound neither wanted to touch.Becca watched them both with quiet intensity.“Eugene will be back soon,” she said aloud, more to fill the space than to inform. “He will want to eat before we head out again.”Mira nodded. “I’ll finish preparing the stew.”She moved toward the hearth, busying herself with the pot hanging above the fire. Her hands worked automatically adding herbs, stirring slowly but her thoug
The cabin had never been so loud, not because of sound, but because of the silence.Mira sat at the small wooden table near the hearth, carefully sorting dried roots into neat bundles, her movements precise and controlled. Across the room, Max stood by the wall where Eugene had hung his weapons, sharpening a blade that did not need sharpening. They did not look at each other, they did not speak and they were doing it so badly that it was impossible to ignore.Becca noticed first.She stood near the doorway that led to the sleeping quarters, a woven basket tucked against her hip, watching them with a frown that deepened with every passing second. Eugene stood beside her, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes moving slowly from Mira to Max and back again.Max shifted his stance, deliberately turning his back whenever Mira moved.Mira responded by focusing even harder on her task, as though the roots in her hands were the most important thing in the world.Becca sighed softly.“I
The garden was too quiet.Jack had learned, over the years, that silence in Blackwood Mansion rarely meant peace. He stood beneath the archway that overlooked the inner gardens, half-shadowed by ivy-covered stone, his arms folded tightly across his chest. From where he stood, he had a clear view of Brian.Brian sat beneath a wide elm tree near the center of the garden, a thick leather-bound book resting in his hands. He looked every bit the image of calm detachment, his long legs stretched out, back against the trunk, one ankle crossed over the other. The breeze stirred his hair, and he turned a page slowly, as though time itself bent to his leisure.Jack scowled."This is what I’m wasting my time on."Brian had not moved for nearly an hour. He had not spoken to anyone, had not signaled to a single guard, had not even glanced around suspiciously. If he was plotting treason, he was doing a remarkably dull job of it.Jack shifted his weight, his boots scraping faintly against the st
Skye’s house had never felt so small.The single room, usually a place of quiet refuge after long nights at the pub, now seemed to press in on itself, the low wooden beams overhead casting heavy shadows as the candle on the table flickered between them. The air was thick with tension, sharp enough that Skye felt it scrape against her skin each time she took in a breath.Max stood near the door, his cloak still fastened, his posture rigid as though he were ready to leave at the slightest provocation. Mira stood several steps away from him, her own hood lowered now, her eyes blazing with anger, something far more dangerous than fear.Skye leaned against the table, her arms folded, gaze moving slowly between them.“Well?” she said at last. “I’m waiting.”Silence answered her.Max shifted his weight, his jaw clenched. Mira didn’t bother pretending to be uncomfortable as she met Skye’s stare head-on, her chin lifted in defiance.Skye exhaled sharply. “You know,” she said, her voice cool







