Nora's POV
Lila was out cold.
Curled up under the old blanket the manor "gave" us, she snored softly—somehow peaceful in a place that felt anything but peaceful. I watched her for a moment, wishing I could fall asleep that easily.
But my chest was too tight.Too alert.Too… awake.
There was something moving under my skin.
Not physically.Emotionally.Spiritually.
Like a presence circling deep inside me.
A soft, steady pulse brushed my thoughts—warm and familiar. Not speaking. Not showing itself. Just… waiting.
I swallowed hard.
I couldn't just stay in bed. The air felt too thick, too full of someone else's breath.
So I slipped out from beneath the blanket, careful not to wake Lila, and crossed the room. My bare feet felt loud against the wooden floor even though I barely made a sound.
I picked up my phone from the dresser.
4:48 AM.
"Lovely," I muttered. "Just lovely."
I set the phone back down.
The window drew me like a magnet.
A soft glow from the forest filtered in—silvery moonlight spilling across the floor and up my legs like water.
I placed both hands on the cold glass and stared out into the dark.
Something was out there.
Not in sight. But in feeling.
Turning away, I walked toward my suitcase—and froze.
There was a door I hadn't noticed last night.
Great. Another hidden room. This better not be another haunted situation.
I crossed the room and turned the knob.
The moment the door opened, my breath left my lungs.
It was a bathroom.
A massive, modern bathroom. Two of the tiny ones in our apartment could fit inside with room to spare. A sleek double-sink vanity with a huge mirror. A smaller vanity table beside it—Lila would destroy that with makeup within a day. A huge glass shower gleamed in the corner.
And beyond it, behind a short wall divider…
A beautiful gray clawfoot bathtub sat in front of three floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forest.
My mouth fell open.
"Wow," I breathed.
I should have stood there longer, just staring, but I needed a shower more than awe right now.
I dragged my suitcase into the bathroom so I wouldn't wake Lila and pulled out my favorite black and gray university sweater and a pair of baggy black sweats.
The water was warm, fast, perfect—like the house already knew how I liked it.
Once I finished and dressed, I quietly slipped out into the hall.
Exploring.
The manor was still dark, the air warm despite the cool stone beneath my feet.
I passed bedrooms.Studies.A sitting room with a fireplace taller than me.A gym that honestly looked battle-ready.
What even was this place?
Finally, I found a kitchen.
Huge.Old wood.Copper pots.Marble counters.
And absolutely no coffee machine in sight.
"Great," I muttered, opening cabinets. "Of course there's no coffee. Why didn't I pack any?"
The house creaked above me—soft, almost like a breath.
I exhaled slowly.
I didn't know if I was alone in here.Or if someone… something… was watching.
I'd just opened my third empty cabinet when the air shifted behind me.
Someone else was here.
I turned.
Thorne stood in the doorway.
No footsteps. No warning. Just… appearing.
Long coat. Calm eyes. A faint trail of cool air following around him like he'd stepped through another room entirely.
And in his hands—
A bag of coffee beans. And a sleek espresso machine that looked absurdly expensive.
He lifted the bag slightly.
"I felt the soul of another coffee lover breaking," he said gently.
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.
"Thank goodness," I breathed. "You're a hero."
Thorne's mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. It made his face look younger, softer. Almost… normal.
And somehow, that warmth in his expression was what made my cheeks heat.
He set the machine down and began assembling it with quiet precision.
I watched him for a moment before clearing my throat.
"So… um. I just realized something."
He didn't look up. "Yes?"
"I don't even know your name."
His hands paused for the smallest fraction of a second.
Then he turned slightly.
"I am Thorne."
Just Thorne. Spoken like it meant something. Like it was enough.
"And you… live here alone?" I asked. "In a house that—let's be honest—is very haunted?"
A soft, low laugh escaped him.
Not mocking.Not cold.
Warm.Unexpected.
"The manor and I keep each other company," he said. "She is never truly quiet, and I… prefer it that way."
Something fluttered under my skin.That pulse again.Watching. Listening.
Before I could ask anything else—
Footsteps crashed down the hallway. Unsteady. Clumsy. The sound of someone who definitely didn't get enough sleep.
Lila stumbled into the kitchen like a startled woodland creature wrapped in a blanket—bleary-eyed, hair exploding in every direction, feet dragging.
"Morning—night—whatever," she mumbled.
Her sleepy gaze found me first.
"Nora," she whined, "how could you leave me in that ghost-infested room alone? I thought the closet ghost snatched you. I almost died. Like, emotionally."
She shuffled deeper into the kitchen—only then noticing we weren't alone.
Her eyes widened.She froze.Then slowly—very slowly—she pointed at Thorne.
"…oh. Hello?"
Thorne nodded once, calm as ever, and handed her the coffee he'd already poured—sensing she was awake before she even got here.
Lila blinked, processed the cup, the man, the situation—and then took the mug with both hands like he was handing her the meaning of life.
She sniffed it.
"This is real coffee," she whispered reverently.
Then louder, to me—"This man is an angel. Or a demon. Either way, I accept."
Thorne's expression didn't change much, but something softened around the edges.
"I'm Thorne," he said gently—finally introducing himself to her.
Lila, still half-asleep, took a huge drink of the coffee before answering.
"…Thorne," she repeated slowly. "Okay. Good. Thank you. I needed to know the name of the person who saved my morning."
She took another sip.
"And possibly my soul."
Thorne moved past us with quiet purpose and opened the freezer.
Inside was a surprising amount of frozen breakfast food—waffles, pastries, sandwiches. He gestured toward the counter where muffins and a bowl of fruit were already waiting.
"Sorry it's not much," he said softly. "There's a store in town. We can pick up anything you want for the house."
Lila and I shared a tired, suspicious glance.
Thorne closed the freezer and faced us.
"I'm sure you have questions. Eat. When you've finished, you can find me in the Archive."
He paused, eyes shifting between us with a quiet, deliberate weight.
"We have much to discuss," he said."About your inheritance… and both of your families."
The air seemed to thicken.
Lila blinked, confusion and a slowly rising panic tightening her voice.
"Both?" she echoed. "Like… my birth parents too? What do they have to do with this?"
She looked at me, wide-eyed. Then back at Thorne.
"With Nora's?"
Thorne didn't answer. Not yet.
He simply inclined his head before turning away—coat trailing behind him like a shadow slipping out of the room—leaving those words echoing in the kitchen long after he was gone.
Lila and I finished the last bites of our muffins, neither of us talking much. Coffee helped, but not enough. Not for this.
When we finally stood from the table, Lila pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders like a shield and exhaled shakily.
"Okay," she whispered. "We go in together, right? Because if something spooky jumps at me, I'm using my coffee as a weapon."
I snorted, even though my heart was pounding.
"Yeah. Together."
We made our way down the hall, the manor quiet… too quiet. Not restless like last night—more like it was waiting.
The corridor leading to the Archive felt colder, the air shifting with each step. Lila bumped my arm once—not on accident.
"Nora," she hissed, "if this place starts whispering again, I'm breaking a window and running."
"You won't," I whispered back.
"You don't know my life."
But she stayed close.
We reached the carved wooden door—dark, tall, marked with symbols I didn't recognize. The faintest glow pulsed beneath the grain, like the wood itself was breathing.
Lila reached for my hand.
"Nora…"
"I know."
We pushed the door open together.
Warm light spilled out.
Rows of shelves stretched into the shadows, filled with books, artifacts, glowing glass cases… and swirling threads of faint arcane mist drifting across the floor like smoke.
Thorne stood at the center of the room, hands folded behind his back, waiting as if he'd known the exact second we would arrive.
"Come in," he said softly. "There's much you must understand."
Lila squeezed my hand only once before letting go.
We stepped inside.
And the door closed by itself behind us.