Chapter 13 Thirteen
Chapter 13
Lilith
The manor smelled of rain and smoke when I woke. The storm had passed, but the air still trembled with something electric, as if the house hadn’t forgiven me for surviving it.
I dressed quickly and listened. The corridors beyond my door were too quiet—no servants, no guards, only the echo of dripping water from the roof.
Every few heartbeats the timbers creaked, as though the building shifted in its sleep.
Ryan was gone. He’d left no note, no trace of where he’d gone after leading me to the lower chambers the night before.
Only the faint scent of iron and cold ash lingered, a promise or a warning—I couldn’t decide which.
I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped into the hall. The torches were dim, their flames thin and blue.
My reflection ghosted along the polished stone, pale and uncertain.
From somewhere deep within the manor came a voice. Not the whisper that haunted me—this one was real, low and unmistakably human.
“Lilith.”
Travis.
His tone was smooth, almost courteous, and that frightened me more than when he shouted.
I followed the sound through a series of narrow corridors until I reached the great hall.
The doors stood open; firelight spilled across the floor, turning the stone gold and red.
Travis sat in one of the high-backed chairs near the hearth, boots muddy, hair damp, a half-empty glass of wine resting on his knee.
He looked up when I entered and smiled, a thin, patient curve of lips that never touched his eyes.
“There you are,” he said. “I was beginning to think my brother had misplaced you.”
“I was in the library.”
The lie felt fragile in my mouth.
“So I heard. Strange night for reading, wasn’t it? The storm, the lights… the house shaking itself apart.”
I said nothing.
Travis rose slowly, circling the table until he stood in front of me. He smelled of rain and pine sap, of the forest outside.
“Did you feel it too?” he asked. “The earth moving beneath us?”
“No.”
He studied me for a long time, head tilted. “Lies don’t suit you. You twitch when you tell them.”
My stomach tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but you do.” He moved closer, close enough that the heat from the fire brushed against my skin.
“The manor is old, built on bones and vows. When something stirs beneath it, I feel it in my blood. Ryan pretends not to, but he’s always been the quieter liar.”
His hand shot out suddenly, gripping my chin. “Look at me.”
I forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes weren’t just blue—they burned with flecks of gold, the mark of a wolf on the edge of losing control.
For a heartbeat, the air shimmered between us. The torches along the wall flickered, flaring bright before dimming again.
Travis’s expression sharpened. “There it is,” he murmured. “The pulse.”
He released me and stepped back, watching the nearest flame sway as though caught in an unseen wind.
“Interesting trick. Does Ryan know?”
My throat went dry. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” He reached for a dagger lying on the table—a ceremonial blade with runes etched along its length.
“This belonged to the first of our line. It hums when it tastes power.”
He turned the blade slowly so that the runes caught the firelight. They glowed faintly, then dimmed.
Travis frowned, glanced at me, and held it out between us. “Touch it.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Humor me.”
The room seemed to lean closer, waiting. I hesitated, then extended my hand.
My fingertips brushed the metal—light exploded through the runes, brilliant and cold.
Travis jerked the dagger back with a hiss. The glow faded as quickly as it came, leaving only the smell of scorched air.
My hand tingled; thin silver lines traced across my skin before vanishing.
He stared at me, eyes wide for the first time since I’d met him. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.
“Well,” he said softly, almost to himself. “That answers that.”
I stepped back. “What did you see?”
“Enough.” He turned the dagger in his hand, admiring the faint smoke rising from the edge.
“Seems our little guest isn’t so ordinary after all.”
“Travis, please—”
He cut me off with a raised hand. “Don’t waste breath pretending. The house told me something was wrong, and now I know what.”
He sheathed the blade, his smile sharpening. “My brother has been very busy keeping secrets.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” He took another step forward, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.
“You’re the reason the wards broke. The reason the wolves outside are restless. The reason he’s suddenly playing protector instead of predator.”
He leaned in until his breath brushed my ear. “Tell me, Lilith Greyson, what exactly are you?”
The whisper in my chest stirred again, louder this time, warning me to stay silent.
Travis pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing as if he’d heard it too. “Ah. There it is again. The hum.”
The candles around the room flickered wildly. I tried to calm my breathing, to quiet whatever was rising inside me, but the harder I fought it, the stronger it became.
Travis watched with fascination. “You can’t hide it, can you?” he said. “It wants to be seen.”
“Please—just stop.”
He laughed, low and dark. “Why would I stop? This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”
The dagger in his hand flared once more, reacting to the energy pulsing from me.
The smile vanished from his face, replaced by something colder. “So it’s true. You’re the storm.”
I took another step back. “Travis—”
He moved like a shadow, grabbing my arm before I could retreat further.
“Ryan thinks he can hide you,” he said, voice low and steady. “But I see what he won’t. Power like this doesn’t belong in cages or under mercy. It belongs to the strongest hand.”
I struggled, panic surging through me. The air shimmered again, and where his fingers touched my skin, faint light bloomed.
Travis’s eyes widened, not with fear but delight. “Oh, little wolf,” he breathed. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”
The torches flared, the windows shuddered under an unseen wind, and for one suspended heartbeat the world seemed to hold its breath—then the light swallowed everything.