RIVAL’S POV
I didn’t sleep.
The walls of the house pressed too close, and every creak in the pipes felt like Samuel’s laugh crawling under the door. Thomas had gone quiet since the fight, he was too quiet. Not sulking, not stubborn. Just… still. Like a storm waiting for the right wind.
I didn’t like it.
So I kept one ear sharp while I pretended to rest, back against the wall, knife within arm’s reach.
That’s when I heard it.
Not Thomas. Not the house.
A different sound. A low murmur. A voice that dripped oil and poison.
Samuel.
I was on my feet before the thought finished forming, but I didn’t burst in. Not yet.
His voice slid under the c***k of the half-open door to the living room, soft enough he thought I wouldn’t hear.
“You felt it, didn’t you?” Samuel whispered. “The pit si
