Masks of Fear and Shadow

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Eowyn

"There's a cruelty in longing when all you touch is cold, a hunger born of endless winter."

The castle is silent, the air thick with stillness. Yet I can't sleep.

I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the night breathe through my open balcony doors. The moonlight spills across the floor, pale and cold—too cold. My mother's words still echo in my mind. Her threats. The venom in her tone.

"You will suffer for it."

But that's not what keeps me awake.

It's him.

Cylas. The way he looked at me. Like I wasn't some shattered thing. Like I wasn't Vespera's daughter. His silver eyes burned into me, effortlessly carving through every wall I've ever built.

I turn onto my side, pulling my knees to my chest. The empty space beside me feels unbearable. I shouldn't care. I shouldn't want. But the ache remains.

The breeze stirs again.
Colder this time, and-

Wait.

I freeze. My breath hitches as a shadow moves.

I sit up slowly, eyes narrowing at the open balcony doors. The curtains billow. The night is quiet. Too quiet.

And then—

Boots scrape against stone, and my pulse stutters. I stare at the darkness beyond the balcony. My heart pounds. Slowly, deliberately, a figure emerges. Broad shoulders. Wavy chestnut hair tousled by the wind.

I blink and my breath catches in my throat.

"Cylas?" I whisper.

He leans lazily against the doorway, arms crossed over his massive chest, shadows coiling at his feet like living things. His silver eyes gleam before they narrow, catching the moonlight.

"I shouldn't be here." His voice is low. Rough. Annoyed, almost. But his gaze never leaves me.

But you are here.

I swallow hard. "How...? The balcony—" I glance back toward the sheer castle wall. Ten stories of slick stone. No ledges, no trellis. No way in.

"You climbed?" My voice comes out a breathy whisper, almost disbelieving.

He shrugs, gaze dropping briefly to the tear-stained pillow behind me. "Didn't feel like using the front door."

My mouth opens. Closes. "You're insane."

He grins, sharp and wolfish. "You're loud."

I blink. "Loud?" I ask him incredulously.

Cylas pushes off the doorframe with a lazy grace that sends my pulse skyrocketing. He stalks toward me, slow and lethal, like a predator playing with its prey.

"Couldn't sleep," he mutters. "Too much noise. Your noise."

I press back into my pillows. "I wasn't making a sound."

His silver eyes gleam. "Didn't say you were."

Gods.

The air between us crackles. His shadows lap at the edges of my bed like a tide. His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering before rising back to meet my eyes.