Nicole waited until Jasper's footsteps vanished beneath the manor until the final echo of the heavy iron door closing swallowed the upper halls in silence. Her pulse was unsteady. Her fingertips tingled. Every instinct screamed at her to stay put, to pretend she never noticed the darkness in his eyes, the whispered rumors, the fresh scars on prisoners dragged out at dawn. But her heart… her heart was louder.
If Jasper was slipping into something dangerous if he was becoming the monster the ritual threatened to make of him then she had to know. She had to see it for herself. She moved quietly, hugging her shawl close around her shoulders, slipping out of their room like a shadow. The manor at night was unsettlingly quiet; not even the maids crossed the halls. The candles lining the walls flickered as she passed, their flames bowing inward as though sucked toward some unseen force deep beneath the manor. Jasper.
