Page 14 of Fangs

Panic seizes my throat. I stumble backward, gasping, frantically searching the shadows for a place to hide. I stop, holding my breath, my heartbeat so deafeningly loud I’m certain it echoes down the hall.

Silence stretches. Torturous.

Slowly, drawn by a morbid compulsion, I peer back through the wood.

Lord Thomas is standing by the window, his back to me. He’s still. Too still.

“You can come in now, Lucy.” His voice dripping with ancient menace.

My blood instantly turns to ice in my veins.

“You’ve been watching long enough, don’t you think?”

My legs lock. I can’t move a single inch.

“Come in,” he commands, his head turning just enough for the sharp edge of his jaw to catch the firelight. “I know you’re there.”

Little voyeur

Ijerk backward, breath catching in my throat as my chest stammers.

Too late.

The heavy oak door swings wide on soundless hinges, exposing me before I can even draw breath to bolt. Thomas fills the frame like an executioner stepping onto a scaffold, dark eyes locking onto mine with chilling, instantaneous precision.

God, of course he caught me! My stomach free-falls.

“Little voyeur,” he drawls, voice lethal. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“You were meant to be in your room,” he cuts in, stepping forward into the suffocating hall. “That was the one rule.”

Behind him Mag scrambles upright, frantically smoothing the torn fabric of her dress with shaking, submissive hands.

Look at her. Groveling like a whipped cur, completely devoid of backbone. I would rather die than look at a man the way she looks at him.

“Thomas, perhaps—” Mag begins, voice trembling.

“Silence.” He doesn’t even grace her with a glance. His gaze remains welded to my face, heavy as a tombstone. “Your door left unlocked was a test. And you failed it entirely.”

Rage flares hot through my terror, eclipsing common sense. I fling my chin up, refusing to shrink under his towering authority.

A test.

“What about the demonic shadows that forced me out of my room?” My voice vibrating with indignation. “How did you even orchestrate that? What I saw could not have been a simple trick of the light!”

A razor-thin smile curves his lips, devoid of all warmth. “What shadows? Don’t try to play the clever fool, inventing cheap excuses for your blatant disobedience. You probably listened to the estate’s local folklore and thought you could outsmart me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I snap. “I don’t know a damn thing about this place! But one thing is crystal clear: you and the other three masters are the ones pulling the strings, playing sick games with my mind.”

“Careful, little pet,” he murmurs, tone dropping into an arctic whisper that makes every hair on my arms stand on end. “Be extremely mindful of who you think you’re speaking to.”

Mag steps between us, a placating palm pressing against his chest. “Thomas, please… let me explain it to her. She’s brand new. She doesn’t understand the history—”

“Explain what, exactly?” I cut her off, skin crawling.

Mag darts a nervous sideways glance at Thomas before looking back at me.