Lucien's instruction settled over Evelyn like an unexpected weight.
Stay with Cassian tonight.
The words were simple enough, yet the meaning behind them felt far more complicated. She stood in the corridor after the kitchen passage had been cleared, listening to the quiet movement of servants elsewhere in the manor while the scent of blood and wet earth lingered faintly in the air. Lucien had already gone, leaving behind his usual calm and a decision that Evelyn had not been given any opportunity to question.
Cassian looked no happier about it than she did.
He stood a little apart from her, one hand hooked into his pocket, the other still tense at his side. His expression was carefully blank in the way Evelyn had begun to recognize as his preferred defense against discomfort. If he had been told to guard a priceless relic, he probably would have looked less offended.
"You seem thrilled," Evelyn said lightly.
Cassian glanced at her. "I could say the same to you."
"I'm not thrilled. I'm mildly concerned."
"That sounds like a polite way of saying no."
"Maybe I'm just trying to make the situation less tragic."
He gave a small, dry look that almost passed for amusement. "You make everything sound dramatic."
Evelyn folded her arms. "That's rich coming from someone who inherited an Alpha's temper and a lifetime of brooding."
Cassian opened his mouth, apparently ready to object, but ended up turning his face away instead. The slight movement made him look younger, less like a future ruler and more like a boy who had been told to share a room with someone he did not fully trust. It was a familiar expression in a stranger's body, one Evelyn recognized far too quickly.
She let the silence stretch between them for a moment before speaking again, this time more gently. "We don't have to be thrilled. We just have to survive the evening."
Cassian looked at her side-long, as if trying to decide whether her tone was sincere or just another one of her strange habits. In the end he simply gave a short nod.
The eastern wing suite that Lucien had instructed them to share was larger than Evelyn expected. It included a sitting area separated from the sleeping chamber by a decorative archway, two fireplaces, and a long window that looked out over the estate grounds. Two sets of lamps had already been lit, casting a warm amber glow across the polished wood and pale carpeting. Someone had also arranged an extra blanket on the sofa, as if the staff had quietly anticipated that neither of them would be pleased with the arrangement.
Evelyn took in the room at once and exhaled softly.
"Well," she murmured, "at least no one is asking us to share a bed."
Cassian stopped halfway into the room.
Evelyn blinked, realizing a beat too late what that sounded like.
His ears turned faintly red.
She covered her face with one hand. "I meant separate beds. Separate. Beds."
Cassian looked at her with the expression of someone trying not to laugh and failing by sheer effort alone. "Of course you did."
"That is not helping."
"It was not meant to."
She stared at him in betrayal. "You're doing this on purpose."
He made a small, dismissive motion toward the sitting area. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that."
"Coward."
His mouth twitched again, but he did not deny it.
For a moment, the awkwardness eased just enough to become bearable. Evelyn noticed how the room, though elegant, felt unusually safe compared to the rest of the manor. Perhaps because it had been prepared with her presence in mind. Perhaps because Cassian was there, and no matter how prickly he appeared, she no longer thought of him as frightening.
He was reserved, yes.
Complicated, yes.
But frightening? No.
Not in the same way as Lucien.
That thought, uninvited and sharp, moved through her mind while Cassian was turning away to inspect the window. Lucien carried a different sort of danger. He was not unpredictable. In fact, that was part of what made him terrifying. He moved with absolute control, as though every choice had already been weighed and every consequence accepted.
Cassian, by contrast, felt human.
That realization surprised her.
He leaned lightly against the window frame and looked out toward the courtyard below, where lanterns had begun appearing along the patrol paths. "Father really means for you to stay here."
Evelyn sat on the edge of the sofa. "He does that a lot."
Cassian glanced over his shoulder. "What?"
"Orders people around and expects them to obey."
"That is usually how Alphas work."
"Then I suppose I was not properly prepared for marrying one."
Cassian turned fully toward her at that. "You say things like that as though it happened by accident."
Evelyn froze for half a second before recovering.
Too late.
She had been too comfortable again.
Still, Cassian was watching her now with a subtle intensity she had begun to recognize. It was not suspicion exactly. More like the look of someone observing a puzzle whose pieces did not fit cleanly.
Evelyn gave him a faint smile. "You're very observant."
"That is a polite way of avoiding the question."
"Maybe I'm just not ready to answer it."
Cassian held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned back toward the window. The conversation drifted into silence again, but this time it was less hostile than before.
The room remained quiet for nearly an hour after that.
Evelyn read through a thin volume of household records Lucien had left on the table, though her attention kept slipping back to the corridor door. Cassian spent most of the time reviewing some of the archive notes he had carried in with him, occasionally making a mark on the margin with a pen. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and the soft ticking of a mantle clock added a strange domestic rhythm to the tension.
At some point, Mina arrived with a tray of dinner and left it quietly near the sitting area before withdrawing again. Neither of them had heard her enter.
Evelyn looked at the food, then at Cassian. "We're apparently being fed like prisoners."
He glanced at the tray. "Father believes hunger makes people stupid."
"Does he believe anything comforting?"
Cassian thought about that for a second. "No."
That answer made her laugh despite herself.
The meal was simple -- broth, bread, roasted vegetables, and a small plate of sliced fruit. It was not enough to feel celebratory, but Evelyn found herself grateful for it all the same. Eating beside Cassian, in this quiet room filled with flickering light, made the evening feel almost normal for brief moments. Almost.
Until the first tap came from the window.
Both of them froze.
It was soft enough that a weaker person might have mistaken it for wind.
Evelyn slowly set down her spoon.
Another tap sounded, more deliberate this time.
Cassian was already on his feet.
Evelyn looked toward the window and saw nothing at first, only darkness and reflected lamplight. Then a pale shape moved across the glass.
Her breath caught.
Not a face.
Not clearly.
Just a hand.
She stood so abruptly that the chair legs scraped the floor. "Tell me that's a guard."
Cassian had already crossed the room in three swift steps and yanked the curtain aside.
The glass beyond was empty.
Snow drifted softly outside.
Nothing else.
He opened the window a fraction and immediately leaned out, scanning the ledge and the courtyard below. A cold breeze swept into the room, carrying the scent of frost and pine.
"There's no one there," he said.
Evelyn's heart was still hammering.
She moved closer, peering into the night. The window faced the outer courtyard, where lanterns still burned along the paths and guards patrolled in pairs. But beyond them, near the line of trees, the shadows seemed deeper than usual.
She knew she had seen something.
"Did you see a hand?" she asked quietly.
Cassian looked at her sharply. "Yes."
That should have been reassuring. Instead it made the room feel even colder.
A second later, a low rapping sound came from the door.
This time both of them turned at once.
The knock came again, gentle and precise.
Cassian moved to the door immediately and opened it just enough to look out. Evelyn watched his posture stiffen at once.
"What is it?" she asked.
Before he could answer, Mina's voice came from the hall, strained and breathless.
"Young Master -- Madam -- the Alpha requests your presence in the west corridor."
Cassian went still.
Evelyn's pulse picked up immediately. "Why?"
Mina swallowed. "The missing records have reappeared."
The room fell silent.
Cassian looked toward Evelyn in disbelief, then back to the hallway. "Where?"
Mina's expression had gone pale enough to alarm her on its own.
"In front of the old portrait."
Evelyn felt the cold settle slowly into her bones.
The old portrait.
The one with the painted-over face.
The one Lucien had said should not be disturbed.
A memory of the shadow at her window flashed through her mind, sharp and unwelcome.
She looked at Cassian.
He was already moving.
And as Evelyn followed him into the corridor, one thought repeated itself with terrible clarity:
Someone in Blackthorne Manor had not finished delivering their warning.