Alexia's nightmares become reality: a dead baron, red-eyed wraiths, and forbidden love with a man hunted by these creatures. After an attack close to home, Alexia realizes she cannot keep one foot in her old life and one in this new world. To protec...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sixteen
Red Eyes
The dead earl's family arrived, so many of them and still there was space to spare. They were proud and condescending, yet the men paid Alexia far too much mind. She stayed to her room with a book. That meant she was kept from Sarah, with all her responsibilities as the "dutiful widow."
The funeral finally commenced.
Alexia trembled as she entered the church on Father's arm—and not because of the many eyes watching her. The dread was silly. She knew there was nothing to fear, but her heart always pounded a little faster when entering a church since the year she turned ten, when her parents had become pious about a parish an hour away. She remembered that last Sunday, dreaming in the balmy church, and what had followed:
The rush of wind tugged at her hair. She sprinted toward the road, heart thundering, needing escape, knowing the futility of her effort. She froze. Terrible red eyes circled her, burning into her from the wooded shadows of twilight...
She had jolted awake and glanced up at the preacher—who stared directly at her. The center of his pupils blazed a ravenous crimson. A consuming red. He'd licked his lips, sermon temporarily abandoned, and she'd known she was going to die—that he was going to kill her. She'd screamed and fought to escape. Embarrassed, Father had set her free and sent Sarah after. Alexia couldn't have explained the fear, nor would Father have listened. They never returned to that church—though she certainly had Father's pride to blame.
Seated next to him now, she struggled to quiet her mind and focus on the sermon by a hellfire-and-damnation preacher, followed by the most ridiculous oratory of praise. The only part she enjoyed in the least was the boys' choir. When at last the three hours came to a close, they were prodded up the aisle under the full observance of attendees to gaze upon the withered creature and offer their final farewell. Earl Henry von Faber repulsed Alexia—the embodiment of Sarah's torture for five long years. She wondered how her aunt could feel anything but disdain, yet tears brimmed in Sarah's eyes.
Guests returned to the house afterward, and Alexia escaped the rowdy funeral goers by rounding a corner into the parlor. She halted.
A bear-of-a-man stood in possession of Sarah's hand, speaking tenderly into her aunt's ear. Alexia had seen him before, but she couldn't recall where. His short black hair curled neatly, his face a rectangle with a Roman nose, a stylish beard, and a modest earring that glimmered over broad shoulders. It made her question if he had been to sea, perhaps even tried his hand at piracy. He looked thirty, perhaps? And handsome. Rugged, but handsome.
Alexia blinked. Could Sarah have so serious a suitor this soon after her husband's death?
"Sarah?"
Her aunt glanced up, startled. "Oh, Lexy!" Her flush deepened as she pulled free, withdrawing from him a step. "May I introduce Mister John Radcliffe."
