Chapter 16 CHAPTER 16
My brows pulled together slightly.
“What does that even mean?” I asked.
He didn’t react to the question, his gaze shifting briefly toward the door before returning to me.
“You crossed into land that does not belong to your kind,” he continued, the words measured, like he was choosing exactly how much to say. “The forest you entered is only the edge of it.”
A cold feeling settled in my stomach.
“The edge of what?” I pressed.
He held my gaze for a moment longer before answering.
“Of something older,” he said.
The way he said it made something tighten in my chest.
Older.
Not abandoned.
Not empty.
Older.
My mind immediately went back to the sound outside the door, the growl that had echoed through the walls, the weight of something I hadn’t seen but had felt all the same.
“And those things out there?” I asked, my voice quieter now, more cautious. “They belong to this… place?”
“Yes.”
The single word came without hesitation.
I swallowed.
“And you?” I asked before I could stop myself.
The question hung in the air between us, heavier than the ones before it.
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
His gaze didn’t leave mine, but something shifted behind it, something I couldn’t quite read, something that made my chest tighten slightly.
“I rule it,” he said.
The words landed harder than I expected.
I stared at him, my mind trying to catch up, trying to make sense of what he had just said. Rule it. Not live here. Not survive here.
Rule it.
My eyes moved over him again, taking in his size, the way he carried himself, the way nothing about him felt uncertain or out of place in this castle.
“You’re not just some creature in the woods,” I said slowly, the realization settling in.
“No,” he replied.
Silence followed.
But it felt different now.
He hadn’t told me everything.
Not even close.
But it was enough.
Enough to understand that I hadn’t just been taken by something dangerous.
I had been taken by something that belonged here.
And that made everything far worse.
A faint shuffle came from beyond the door, softer this time, careful, almost hesitant. My head turned toward it instantly, my body going still again as I listened.
It wasn’t the same as before.
Not heavy.
Not threatening.
Just… movement.
The lock shifted.
I straightened, my eyes snapping to the door as it slowly creaked open. The sound seemed louder than it should have been, dragging across the quiet room as the door opened just enough for something small to slip through.
It wasn’t human.
The creature that entered kept its head low, its back slightly hunched as it stepped inside with cautious, uneven movements. It stood no taller than my shoulder, its limbs thin but not weak, its skin a dull grey with patches that looked almost stone-like under the dim light. Its hands were long, fingers narrow and slightly curved, like they weren’t made for fighting, but for working.
Its eyes flicked up once.
Briefly.
Then dropped again.
It didn’t look at me again after that.
It carried a small bundle in its arms—cloth, I realized—and moved toward the table without a word, placing it down before quickly beginning to tidy the space. Its movements were quick but quiet, almost practiced, as if it had done this many times before.
I stared at it, unsure whether to speak or stay still.
My gaze shifted to him.
He hadn’t moved.
He stood where he was, watching, but not the creature.
Me.
That unsettled me more than the thing that had just walked into the room.
“What is that?” I asked, my voice lower now, careful.
The creature paused for just a second at the sound of my voice, its shoulders tightening slightly before it continued what it was doing.
“It serves,” he said.
That wasn’t much of an answer.
My eyes moved back to it, watching as it worked, straightening what little there was to straighten, adjusting the bedding, gathering small pieces of broken wood and placing them aside. It didn’t make unnecessary noise, didn’t linger, didn’t look at me again.
“Does it speak?” I asked.
“No.”
The word came just as simply as before.
I frowned slightly, studying it more carefully now. It didn’t feel like the same kind of creature that had been outside the door. This one moved differently. Quieter. Smaller. Controlled.
Not like a predator.
More like…
Something that knew its place.
A strange feeling settled in my chest at that thought.
The creature moved closer to the bed, its movements slowing slightly as it adjusted the fur draped across it. For a brief moment, it glanced toward me again, its eyes flicking over me quickly before dropping back down.
Then it stepped back.
Done.
It didn’t wait.
Didn’t speak.
It simply turned and moved toward the door again, its steps just as quiet as when it entered.
The door opened just enough for it to slip through.
Then it was gone.
The lock clicked again.
And just like that, it was only the two of us in the room again.
I stared at the door for a moment before slowly looking back at him.
“That thing…” I hesitated slightly, choosing my words carefully. “It’s not like the one outside.”
“No,” he said.
My chest tightened slightly.
“So there are more,” I said quietly.
His gaze held mine.
“There are many.”
The words settled heavily in the room.
And suddenly…
This place felt a lot bigger than just this chamber.
When he finally left and the door shut behind him, the sound of the lock sliding into place echoed through the chamber, louder than it should have been, as if the room itself wanted to remind me exactly where I stood. I remained still for a moment, my eyes fixed on the door, waiting without realizing it, as if part of me expected it to open again just as suddenly as before.
But it didn’t.
The silence settled in, thick and unwelcoming, and only then did I lower my gaze to my hands. They were shaking.
I hadn’t noticed it while he was here. I had been too focused on holding myself together, on keeping my voice steady and my fear hidden beneath something stronger. But now that I was alone, there was nothing left to distract me from it. The trembling only grew worse the longer I stared, my fingers curling slightly as if I could force them still, as if I could somehow control what I was feeling.
Terror had fully settled into me now, not sharp and fleeting like before, but deep and consuming, pressing in around my ribs and making each breath feel heavier than the last. It wasn’t just him anymore. It wasn’t just the memory of what he had done or the way he moved like something not entirely human.
It was everything.
The thing outside the door.
The servant that moved like it belonged here.