The footsteps outside grew louder, deliberate, steady—like the drum of doom.
My breath caught, my body rigid with terror as I pressed myself against the crumbling wall of the mill. The shadows stretched long across the damp floor, the faint light filtering in through broken beams making everything look jagged and unreal. Adrian tried to sit up, his body trembling, but I pressed a hand to his chest.
“Don’t move,” I whispered.
His fever-bright eyes found mine, urgent but weak. “Emma—”
The door creaked.
And there he was.
Daniel filled the threshold, tall, broad, his silhouette cast in jagged light. His eyes—dark, cold—swept the mill until they found us. His lips curved into a smile that wasn’t a smile at all.
“Well,” he drawled, stepping inside, his boots crunching on shards of old woo
