CRAVES

OUTSIDE THE GATES

Amelia remained in the dining room long after Bryan had left.

The chair beside her was empty.

The breakfast in front of her had gone cold.

She could still hear his voice.

My father has been dead for three hundred years.

She looked toward the doorway.

Benedict was gone too.

The house seemed to have swallowed everyone.

She stood slowly and walked toward the nearest window.

From there, she could see only a section of the long driveway. The iron gates were too far away to make out anyone standing beyond them.

She pressed her fingers against the glass.

Nothing moved.

Then a car appeared between the trees.

Black.

It stopped several metres before the entrance.

Bryan stepped out.

Cassian followed.

Two other men emerged from the second vehicle behind them.

Amelia watched as they walked toward the gate.

Bryan didn't look back at the house.

His shoulders were stiff.

His hands were empty.

He looked nothing like the man who had sat across from her ten minutes ago and reminded her to eat breakfast.

Something had changed.

The stranger stood on the other side of the iron gates.

Amelia couldn't see his face clearly from the window, but she could see that he was tall.

He wore a long dark coat.

His silver hair caught the morning light.

Bryan stopped several feet away from him.

Neither man moved.

Even from a distance, the tension between them was obvious.

The stranger lifted one hand.

Bryan didn't respond.

A few words passed between them.

Amelia couldn't hear them.

Then the stranger turned his head.

Straight toward the house.

Straight toward her window.

Her breath caught.

She stepped back immediately.

There was no way he could have seen her.

The curtains were partly drawn.

The distance was too great.

Still, something about the way he had looked toward the house made the hair on her arms rise.

She moved away from the window.

A moment later, someone knocked on the dining room door.

Benedict entered.

His expression was composed.

Too composed.

"You should return upstairs."

She looked at him.

"Who is that man?"

Benedict's eyes remained on her.

"Someone who should not be here."

"Bryan said his father was dead."

"He is."

"Then who is outside?"

Benedict paused.

"That is a question Mr. Ravencrest will answer."

She folded her arms.

"Everyone keeps telling me that."

His expression softened slightly.

"Because some answers are dangerous before they are understood."

She stared at him.

He inclined his head.

"Please."

He left.

Amelia didn't move.

The word dangerous had begun appearing too often around her.

She looked toward the window again.

The stranger was gone.

So was Bryan.

...

The gates remained closed.

Bryan stood in the middle of the road.

The man on the other side had disappeared into the trees.

Cassian approached.

"He wasn't alone."

Bryan's eyes remained fixed on the road.

"How many?"

"Three."

"Where are they?"

"Gone."

Bryan turned.

"Did you recognize any of them?"

"No."

Cassian hesitated.

"There is something else."

Bryan waited.

"The man knew about the contract."

His face hardened.

"What exactly did he say?"

"He said the marriage wasn't supposed to happen."

Bryan's jaw tightened.

Cassian continued.

"He also knew the date the contract was signed."

For the first time, Bryan looked genuinely unsettled.

That information had never been made public.

The contract had been drawn up privately.

Only a handful of people knew about it.

Bryan looked toward the manor.

Amelia was somewhere inside.

The thought of someone knowing about the marriage before it had even been announced made his stomach turn.

"Search the grounds."

Cassian nodded.

"Already started."

Bryan walked toward the house.

Halfway there, he stopped.

His gaze moved to the trees.

A faint scent lingered in the air.

Not human.

Not familiar.

Old.

Very old.

His expression changed.

He knew that scent.

He hadn't smelled it in centuries.

His father's house had carried it.

Bryan's father had been dead for three hundred years.

But the scent belonged to someone who had known him.

Someone who had been there before his death.

Someone who shouldn't have survived.

Bryan's hand slowly curled into a fist.

...

Amelia was sitting in the library when he returned.

She hadn't planned to wait for him.

She had simply ended up there.

A book lay open on her lap, but she hadn't read a single page.

The moment the door opened, she looked up.

Bryan entered alone.

He closed the door behind him.

His gaze found her immediately.

She searched his face.

"Who was he?"

Bryan didn't answer.

He walked toward the fireplace.

She closed the book.

"You said your father died three hundred years ago."

"He did."

"Then who was that?"

Bryan remained silent.

She stood.

"You can't keep doing this."

His eyes moved toward her.

"Doing what?"

"Giving me half answers."

He looked away.

She stepped closer.

"I'm already living in your house. I'm already involved in whatever this is. Someone has been following me. Someone has been sending me threats. Now a man who apparently shouldn't exist comes to your gate."

She stopped a few feet from him.

"I think I deserve more than stay here."

Bryan looked at her.

She expected him to become cold.

Instead, something in his expression softened.

He walked toward her.

Slowly.

When he reached her, he stopped.

"You do."

She waited.

His hand lifted.

For a second, it seemed as though he wanted to touch her face.

He hesitated.

Then his fingers gently moved a loose strand of hair away from her cheek.

The gesture was so careful that her anger faded before she could stop it.

"I should have told you more."

She swallowed.

"Yes."

His hand remained near her face for another moment.

Then he lowered it.

"There are things about my family that existed long before you."

She looked at him.

"And now I'm part of them."

"Because of the contract."

"Because I'm your wife."

His eyes held hers.

The words seemed to affect him.

His expression changed slightly.

He looked down at her hand.

The contract ring rested there.

His fingers touched it.

A tiny movement.

Almost absent-minded.

Then he looked back at her.

"Yes."

She didn't know why that single word made her heart beat faster.

She looked away.

He noticed.

A faint smile appeared.

"You do that."

"What?"

"Look away when you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"You are."

She gave him an annoyed look.

He smiled.

Actually smiled.

Not the tiny expression she had caught before.

A real one.

Brief.

Warm.

It changed his entire face.

She stared.

He noticed.

The smile disappeared.

"What?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing."

He stepped back.

The distance felt strangely noticeable.

...

That afternoon, Bryan remained at the manor.

He cancelled two meetings.

Then three.

Amelia noticed.

She didn't ask.

She spent most of the afternoon in the library, reading near the window.

Bryan worked at the opposite desk.

For nearly an hour, neither spoke.

The silence was comfortable.

She turned a page.

He wrote something.

She shifted in her chair.

His eyes lifted.

Then returned to the papers.

A few minutes later, she reached for a book on the upper shelf.

Her fingers brushed the spine.

Too high.

She stretched.

Still nothing.

Before she could search for a chair, Bryan appeared beside her.

He reached up easily and pulled the book free.

She looked at him.

"I could have gotten it."

"I know."

He handed it to her.

Their fingers touched.

He didn't release the book immediately.

Neither did she.

Then he let go.

She looked down at the cover.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

She returned to her chair.

Bryan watched her for a second before going back to his desk.

A small smile tugged at his mouth.

She didn't see it.

...

By evening, the manor had returned to its usual quiet.

Amelia stood in front of the mirror brushing her hair.

A soft knock sounded.

She turned.

Bryan stood in the doorway.

He held something in his hand.

A small velvet box.

Her eyes moved to it.

"What is that?"

He walked inside.

"Something that belongs to you."

He opened the box.

Inside lay a delicate silver necklace.

A small raven pendant rested at its center.

Amelia stared at it.

"It looks expensive."

"It is."

She looked at him.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

His gaze dropped to the pendant.

Then returned to hers.

"Because I want you to wear it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"That's not an answer."

He stepped closer.

"Because if you're wearing this, everyone in my world will know you're protected."

She looked at the necklace again.

The raven caught the light.

She hesitated.

Bryan seemed to understand.

He stepped behind her.

His fingers moved her hair gently over one shoulder.

She went still.

He fastened the necklace around her neck.

The cool metal touched her skin.

His fingers lingered at the clasp for a second.

Then he stepped back.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

The necklace suited her.

More than she expected.

Bryan stood behind her reflection.

His gaze rested on the pendant.

Then on her face.

A tiny smile appeared.

She caught it in the mirror.

"There it is again."

He raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"That smile."

His expression became innocent.

"I wasn't smiling."

"You were."

"You're imagining things."

She turned around.

He was closer than she'd expected.

For a moment, neither moved.

His eyes lowered to the necklace.

Then returned to hers.

His throat moved.

A tiny swallow.

She noticed.

She didn't know why.

But she did.

Bryan stepped back first.

"Keep it on."

She touched the pendant.

"Why?"

His expression became serious again.

"Because tonight, I realized something."

"What?"

His gaze held hers.

"They aren't trying to frighten you anymore."

A chill moved through her.

"They're trying to claim you."

He left before she could ask what he meant.

Amelia stood alone in the room.

Her fingers closed around the raven pendant.

Outside, somewhere beyond the manor walls, something moved through the trees.

And for the first time...

The necklace around her neck didn't feel like a gift.

It felt like a warning.