Elora’s POV
The maid’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I could hear her breathing, sharp, quick, like she figured a ghost or some other awful thing might pop out and snatch her. My chest thudded, and every step felt stupidly loud. Dante stalked behind us, wolfish, way too quiet, the kind of guy you don’t want mad at you.
We ended up in this alcove I had never even noticed, cut off the light, and everything. The maid stopped and spun around. God, she looked like she’d seen a nightmare. Watery eyes, clutching her apron like it was all that kept her together.
“My lady,” she hissed, wringing her hands so hard the fabric damn near snapped, “I shouldn’t say a word. If she finds out, if anyone finds out, they would kill me. For real.”
I tried to sound chill, but my insides basically knotted up.
