my skin was pink, I shut off the faucet and stared in the mirror. How on earth did I end up here? I’d been selling beasts for years, waiting for the Myad to appear so I could have a chance at returning home. And now, as soon as I got wind of the creature, I’d been caught. The gods were cruel.
I dallied longer than I should have, hoping Ozias would give up and leave me alone so I’d have a chance to escape. These people were dangerous. I could find another murderer in Ortega Key—no need to test my luck here. But when I emerged, Ozias was still there, waiting with a patient smile on his face.
“Feel better?”
I grumbled. “A bit.”
“Good. C’mon.” He led me out the door and down the hallway. Once we made it to the bottom of the staircase, he nodded toward an archway on the other side of the fireplace.
“I need to get some affairs in order for our travels, but you’ll find the kitchen through there. Take whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?”
He blinked. “Yeah. Didn’t you say you were hungry?”
“Yes, but…” I tilted my head to the side. “You’re not worried I’ll run off?”
A warm chuckle bubbled from somewhere deep in his belly. “You can try, but I wouldn’t recommend it. There are eyes everywhere in Cruor.” Gesturing to the walls where shadows seemed to linger as if in response, he climbed the stairs. “Go on. Eat something.”
With his back turned, my gaze immediately targeted the double doors leading out to the Kitska Forest. I could run. Try to navigate the swirling maze of vines and trees, even though I didn’t have the faintest idea how we’d arrived. The vortex had winnowed us here in no time at all, but we could’ve traveled miles from Midnight Jester. Maybe more.
Wandering alone in the forest at night, low on power from Iky’s drain and without food, was not a smart decision. Not with monsters hiding in the cursed wood waiting for easy prey like me.
Turning back to the stairs, I caught Ozias watching me with an easy smile.
“Good night.” I waved. He let out another quiet laugh and then disappeared into the hallway. Giving up on the idea of escape, I headed toward the kitchen. The manor was quiet. Buttery-yellow lights glowed softly at the end of the corridor, and my stomach reminded me to pick up the pace. As I tiptoed toward the opening, a quiet thud met my ears.
Hidden in the dark mouth of the hall, I peeked my head into the kitchen. In black, slim-fitting trousers and a cream-colored long-sleeve tunic, Noc stood over a cutting board with a serrated knife in one hand. Cuffs rolled past his elbows, he sawed through a freshly baked loaf of bread. The blade made soft clunks each time it touched the board, and the ice cubes in the empty glass beside him shifted.
I rotated the rose-gold ring around my finger. Noc was unlike any being I’d ever seen. Tall, with a chiseled jawline worthy of sharpening a blade, he lorded over the counter. Even the way he sliced the bread, so precisely and fluidly, reeked of danger. And then he shattered that illusion entirely with a quietly hummed lullaby. I didn’t recognize the tune, but the soft notes had his lips turning up in a smile, and the visible tension in his neck melted away. His gaze softened as if lost in a memory. Seeing, feeling something beyond my comprehension.
And then my stomach growled.
His hum died in an instant, but he didn’t look up from the loaf of bread. Corded forearms flexed, and he set the knife aside. “You know I can hear you.”
My heart leaped into my throat. I froze, not daring to move.
Sharp and inquisitive eyes—ebony in color, with a metallic sheen like a hematite gem glinting in the sun—cut in my direction before sliding away. “When was the last time you ate?”
I fisted my hand against my navel. If only my stomach had remained silent. There was something endearing about the way his whole body had lightened with that song. But now… He was frigid as ice.
Maybe I was wrong. Ozias had been warm when I’d expected nothing but harsh words. Perhaps Noc would be the same. Stepping into the light, I moved toward an open barstool. “I had the opportunity to eat some shapeless lamb earlier, but I thought it better to starve myself than risk illness.”