Alexander’s POV
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed three, marking the witching hour, the time when the veil between worlds thinned and the things that hunted in the dark grew hungriest.
I sat propped against the headboard, the heavy duvet pooled around my waist, listening to the silence of the estate. Beside me, Lilian was a warm weight against my side, sleeping deeply…too deeply. Her breathing was slow and shallow, and while the rhythm usually acted as a lullaby that soothed the Wolf, tonight it sounded like a countdown.
The fire in the hearth had long since died down to glowing embers, casting long, skeletal shadows that stretched across the floorboards.
Watch, Elijah had said. Watch the shadows.
So I did just that. I watched. My eyes, adjusted to the gloom, traced the line of
