I back up without meaning to.
My heel catches on the carpet and I stumble, arms pinwheeling for balance, knife flashing uselessly in front of me. The doorway to Damian’s room bumps into my shoulder and I retreat into it on instinct, like my body remembers this space as shelter even if my mind knows better. Like something in me still believes that if I’m here, if I’m close enough to his things, I might be protected by proximity alone.
The shadow steps forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The movement is unhurried, confident in a way that steals my breath. The light from the hallway lamp spills just enough around the corner to reveal him, and the sound that leaves my throat is thin and broken, barely human.
A man.
Masked.
Tall enough that his head nearly brushes the ceiling, shoulders broa
