"If you stay, they'll blame me if anything happens to you."

Cassian didn't have to raise his voice. He never did. His words hit hard anyway, the kind of weight that comes from living through moments like this, not just talking about them. The words just sat there between them, heavy and real.

Eloise looked straight at him.

Not past him. Not around him. Right at him.

"I didn't ask anyone to blame you," she said. "I'm leaving."

He didn't move aside, but he didn't block her either. He just stood there, still, watching her. It felt deliberate, like he was trying to memorize her face and didn't want to admit why.

"You think leaving fixes this?" he said. "It doesn't. Not after they've seen you with me."

Behind her, she could feel those eyes on he still watching, even if everyone pretended otherwise. The crowd acted like they'd gone back to their mourning, but she knew better. Curiosity pressed against her, sharp as a breath on the back of her neck.

"You mean them," she said.

"I mean everyone."

He glanced over her shoulder at the iron gate, just for a second, then looked back at her. It wasn't fear in his eyes.

No, it was just awareness.

Her pulse jumped once in her throat.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"That's not true."

Something shifted in his eyes. Not annoyance, more like recognition. Like she'd caught him off guard, she said something he didn't expect.

"You came alone," he said. "Most people wouldn't."

"Most people weren't invited."

"Neither were you."

She nodded. "No, I wasn't."

Silence dropped between them. Not awkward or empty, just there, filling the space, almost like the air itself wanted to listen.

He studied her face again, careful, thoughtful. Not bold or shy. Just searching, as if he was trying to figure out what he'd gotten wrong about her.

Her pulse stuttered.

"Say your name," he said.

She hesitated. Not from fear, but because saying it out loud suddenly felt like handing him something she couldn't take back.

"Eloise," she said. "Eloise Laurent."

He repeated it quietly, almost testing the sound. "Laurent."

He didn't say it like a name but more like he was rolling it around in his head, checking if it fit, tucking it away.

"What now?" she asked.

He glanced at her mouth, just a flicker, then met her eyes again. Quick, almost accidental, but it tightened something low inside her anyway.

"Now," he said, "you walk away."

"I was trying to."

"For your sake."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mine or yours?"

"Yours."

He answered too fast. That, more than anything, made her look at him harder.

A hand touched his arm gently, familiar, certain.

"Cassian."

The voice was warm, easy.

He turned. Eloise did, too.

The woman by his side looked like she was born to quiet rooms where no one ever needed to shout. Her black coat hung just right, everything about her neat and calm. Pearls at her throat. Her face was composed, kind, and paying attention.

Her hand stayed on Cassian's sleeve. Not like she owned him. Just comforting.

"Your aunt is asking for you," she said softly. "She's worried you haven't eaten."

"I'm fine."

She smiled a little. "I know. But she won't believe me unless she hears it from you."

Her eyes found Eloise. They softened right away.

"I hope they weren't troubling you," she said.

Eloise blinked. "No."

The woman kept going, gentle as ever. "They forget their manners when they're grieving. Curiosity wins out over kindness. I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable."

Cassian spoke, quieter. "Mother-"

So, this was his mother.

The thought just settled in, no fanfare.

She smiled. "You don't have to sound so grim when you say it."

Cassian stayed silent.

She turned back to Eloise. "I'm Valarie."

No title, no last name. Just that.

"Eloise," she repeated softly after hearing it. "It's kind of you to come today. Not everyone honors someone they never knew."

Something genuine in her voice made Eloise's usual suspicion fade.

"I thought she deserved that much," Eloise said.

Valarie's smile warmed. "I agree."

For a moment, nothing about her seemed dangerous. She just looked like a mother making sure her son didn't have to go through a hard day alone.

Still, Cassian kept his eyes on Eloise.

Valarie noticed. She gave his arm a soft, distracted pat before letting go. A gesture so natural it didn't need to mean anything at all.

"Well," she murmured, "I shouldn't keep you out here in the cold."

She gave Eloise a polite nod. "It was lovely meeting you."

"You too."

Valarie's face softened just a bit more, then she turned, already offering that same gentle sympathy to someone else before she'd even gone three steps.

Eloise watched her leave.

That was his mother.

Not scary. Not harsh. Not suspicious. Just gracious.

Eloise felt her shoulders slowly relax, almost before she realized it.

"You should go," Cassian said quietly beside her.

She looked at him. "You keep telling me that."

"And you keep ignoring me."

Still, she started to back away-one step, then another.

The gravel shifted under her heel as she turned for the road. The air felt colder over here, thinner too, like she'd left a space she hadn't even realized was holding her up.

She was almost to the end of the path when someone grabbed her wrist from the side and yanked her hard into the narrow gap between the chapel wall and the hedges.

Her back hit the wall so hard it knocked the air right out of her. For a second, everything disappeared. Sound, breath, even thought. But her instincts stayed wide awake.

Adrenaline shot through her, quick as lightning. Before her mind caught up, her hands shoved at whoever had her wrist. Her pulse thundered in her ears, wild and frantic. The hedge scratched her arm, and cold stone pressed through her coat. Whoever had dragged her into the tight space between the chapel wall and the hedges wasn't letting go.

Just for a heartbeat, her body forgot where she was. Forgot the funeral. Forgot the people. Forgot pretty much everything but danger. Raw and close enough to taste.

She drove her palm into his chest. Hard.

He staggered back a step.

Eloise sucked in air, looked up, then stopped cold.

"Adam?"

Her roommate stared at her, just as shocked, and let go right away. "You're welcome."

She was still panting. "You nearly killed me."

"You're breathing," he said, deadpan. "Which is more than I can say for your self-preservation."

His eyes flicked over her shoulder, toward the chapel. "They were circling you."

"They were talking."

"They were dissecting you," he said, quieter now. "That's not the same."

She rubbed her wrist, annoyed at how her fingers still trembled. "You scared me."

Adam's face softened, but only for a moment. Then he was all sharp edges again, scanning her face like he was hunting for bruises. "Good."

She frowned. "Good?"

"Yeah. You should be scared."

"That's dramatic."

"That's true."

She rolled her eyes, but it got to her anyway. Adam didn't scare easily. He joked, exaggerated, and made everything into a scene, but this wasn't the same. His worry was quieter. Still. Like something wound tight and waiting.

"You looked at him," Adam said.

Eloise stiffened. "I gave my condolences."

"You looked at him," he said again, softer.

Her throat went tight. "Adam."

"I'm not blaming you," he said. "I'm warning you."

She let out a shaky breath. "You're reading too much into a look."

Adam cocked his head. "Am I?"

She didn't answer. Because honestly, she didn't know. And that bugged her more than anything he'd said.

Something shifted in the air.

Not a sound. Not a movement. Just presence. It ran down her spine, slow and sure, impossible to ignore.

Adam felt it too. He straightened, eyes flicking past her.

Eloise turned.

Cassian Blackmoor was walking toward them.

He didn't hurry. Didn't stalk. Just moved with that calm confidence, every step easy, shoulders loose, face composed but not blank. Somehow, space just opened for him, like even the air knew where he belonged.

He stopped a few feet away. His eyes went right to her wrist.

"Are you alright?"

His voice was steady. Not loud, not dramatic. Just real.

Cassian held her gaze for a moment, like he was weighing her answer. Then he looked at Adam. Not a challenge. Not a threat. Just recognition.

Adam nodded, quickly. "She's fine."

Cassian glanced back at her, and neither of them looked away.

The silence between them didn't feel empty. It felt like a held breath, waiting for something that hadn't decided to happen yet.

Adam cleared his throat. "We should go."

Cassian didn't move. Didn't react at all, really. But Eloise felt the moment shift. A thin, delicate thing, not broken, just quietly folded away.

She nodded. "We were just leaving."

Cassian dipped his head. "Of course."

They slipped out the gate in silence. Cold air brushed her cheeks. She told herself that's why her face felt hot.

But warmth didn't usually settle deep in her chest like that.

Later that night, she went out. Not because she wanted anyone around but because she couldn't stand being alone with his voice echoing through her head. She didn't trust herself with how much she wanted to hear it again.

The place she picked was warm and dim, the kind of restaurant where nobody asked questions if you sat alone with a drink. Conversations blurred into a soft background hum.

For a while, it helped. She managed a few steady breaths.

Then something in the room shifted.

Not a word. Not a sound. Just a heaviness.

The air thickened, heavy the way it gets before rain. Full of something you can't see yet, but know is coming.

Her fingers tightened around her glass before she even looked up. Cassian stood a few steps away. He didn't say a word, didn't try to draw attention. He was just there like he'd always been, like she was only now noticing.

Her breath caught. She hated that he could still do that to her.

He looked at her, really looked, his gaze tracing her face, pausing just a split second on the faint red mark at her wrist. Something flashed in his eyes. Not anger, not softness. Just something sharper. It vanished before she could pin it down.

"You're out," he said. Not really a question.

She swallowed. "So are you."

He nodded, quiet. "Yes."

He didn't sit. Didn't ask. He just stood close, comfortable in the space, as if the place belonged to him and the room seemed to agree.

She forced her voice steady. "I didn't expect to see you again. At least not tonight."

His eyes drifted around the room. "This is one of mine.

He said it softly, no bragging, no explanation, just the truth.

Eloise blinked. "You own this place."

"Yes."

That's when she noticed the small things: a server slowed down near him, another straightened up without knowing why. No one made a scene, but they all knew. Power didn't need to shout.

Her pulse sped up.

"Do you always check on your businesses this late?" she asked.

"When I want out of my own head."

She tightened her grip on the glass. "Is it working tonight?"

He met her eyes, steady. "No."

The word sat between them, alive and heavy.

Silence grew, but not empty, not awkward, just thick with something she couldn't name.

"I don't think meeting you was an accident, Eloise," he finally said.

Her breath slowed, chest tightening, like someone was pulling a thread inside her.

"Be careful with me. Most people listen when they're warned."

He stepped back, turned, and walked away.

She didn't move, just stared at the space where he'd stood.

Fear curled low in her stomach. But that wasn't what made her heart race.

That was something else.

Anticipation.

The car didn't slow down.

Eloise saw it coming, dead-on, and she just knew and felt it like ice in her gut that it wasn't going to stop. Her breath caught. Her heel slipped on the edge of the curb. The whole world tilted, fast and hard, making her stomach lurch.

The grille swallowed her vision.

She stumbled backward and straight into something solid. The jolt punched the air right out of her, ribs locking up. Everything went quiet. The street, the noise, all of it just blinked out. For a split second, there was nothing but her pulse, loud and wild in her ears.

The car rolled forward an inch.

Then stopped.

It was so close she could see her own warped reflection in the hood, stretched and strange. The windows were blacked out. No face. No movement. Nothing behind the glass.

Just black.

Her hands started shaking before she even noticed she'd raised them. The tremor crept up, from fingertips to wrists, like her body was trying to shake something out and couldn't.

The engine just idled.

It waited.

It watched.

A thin thread of exhaust drifted past her legs. The smell caught in her throat, sharp and metallic, and she swallowed hard.

The car didn't move. Didn't honk. Didn't back up. It just sat there, like it could wait forever.

Finally, her lungs remembered how to work. She stepped sideways off the curb, heart pounding, staring at the windshield like maybe she could force it to turn clear.

The car stayed put.

One long second, perfectly still.

Then it rolled away.

Not fast. Not like it was spooked or guilty. It just... left.

Her heart wouldn't settle. It hammered on, uneven and loud, like it still didn't trust that she was out of danger.

Neither did she.

She stood there too long, staring after the car, listening to the sound of its tires fading away. Only when a stranger brushed past her did she realize she was still blocking the sidewalk.

She made herself move.

Her hands were still shaking when she pushed open the café door.

Warm air wrapped around her, but it didn't cut through the tension. Her skin stayed tight, on edge, waiting for something to finish that hadn't even started.

The bell over the door rang softly.

Mia looked up from the counter and frowned. "You look pale."

"Almost got hit crossing the street," Eloise said, fumbling with her apron strings. They slipped once because her fingers wouldn't listen. She tried again.

Mia straightened. "What?"

"I'm fine." She tried to sound normal. "Just startled."

The word felt too small for what her body was still going through.

Mia watched her for a second, eyes narrowing a little, like she was trying to puzzle something out. Then she said, almost offhand, "Some guy was here asking about you earlier."

Eloise's hands froze.

"What guy?"

"Taller than me. Calm. Polite." Mia tipped her head. "The kind of polite that makes you stand up straight without even realizing it."

A cold prickle ran down Eloise's back.

"He knew your full name," Mia added. "First and last."

The café suddenly felt way too quiet.

"Did he leave a name?"

"No." Mia shook her head. "Just smiled and said he'd come back."

Eloise finished tying the apron even though it was already tight. "Probably someone I served before."

"Maybe."

But Mia didn't sound sure. Neither was Eloise.

The hours dragged on, refusing to pass.

Every time the door opened, her shoulders jumped before she could stop them. Every time a car went by, her eyes flicked to the window. Her body wouldn't let her forget.

She spilled sugar. Burned her fingers on a mug. Forgot an order she'd already written down about three times. 

By closing time, her muscles were knotted, tight, and sore.

When Alex called and said, Come out with us, she agreed before she could talk herself out of it. Not because she wanted to be around people. She didn't want to be alone with the quiet.

The bar was warm inside, dim and gold-lit. The music was low, voices blending in the background. Mateo slid in next to Alex and kissed his cheek, then turned to her.

"You needed air," Alex said, studying her. "So we dragged you out. You're welcome."

"I didn't ask to be dragged."

"You didn't have to."

She wrapped cold fingers around the glass Mateo handed her. The chill felt real, steadying. She focused on that, not the memory of black windows and idling engines.

The conversation circled her. Alex talked. Mateo cut in. She replied when she had to.

For a moment, her shoulders relaxed. She let herself breathe. Then, something shifted. No sound, no sudden movement. Just a feeling. Like someone else had stepped into the room and the air knew it before she did.

Her fingers tightened around her glass. She looked up.

Cassian Blackmoor stood across the room, watching her, not coming closer, not saying a word. Just there, steady, like he'd been waiting for her to notice. You couldn't read his face, not really. But she felt his eyes on her, heavy enough that her pulse kicked so hard she felt it in her throat.

He didn't move right away. He just watched, calm, like he had all the time in the world to study the way she breathed.

Then he walked over. Stopped beside her table.

"Eloise."

Just her name, quiet and steady.

The sound of it slid through her, warm and slow. He glanced at Alex and Mateo. "Good evening, Gentlemen." They answered out of habit, but he was already looking at her again.

"May I steal you for a moment?"

Her heart hammered. She swallowed and nodded, barely trusting her voice. "Yes," she whispered.

He stepped back and nodded toward the balcony. She got up, slipped past him, felt him right there behind her, not touching, but impossible to ignore. She didn't need to look. He was a presence at her back, warm and electric.

He pulled the door open. Cool night air spilled in, slid over her skin, brushed her collarbone and wrists. The noise from inside faded away, shrinking down to shadows, hush, and the sound of her own breath.

And him, still right there.

Her breath hitched. He caught it.

He took her in, slow, eyes landing on her mouth.

"Do you always look at people this way?" His voice was soft, almost rough. "Because I don't think you realize what you do to me. I've never felt like this. I keep telling myself to keep away, but I just can't. You make that impossible. I wasn't supposed to feel like this. Not for you. Not for anyone. I was fine before you."

He meant it. He couldn't walk away now.

She drew in a shaky breath. He moved closer, careful, leaving enough space for her to step back. But she didn't.

He reached up, traced her jaw with gentle fingers. His hand drifted to her neck, then down her arm, slow and sure, like he was trying to memorize her.

She let her eyes flutter closed.

Their breaths tangled. Her hands found his jacket and gripped it tight.

"Eloise." He barely got her name out. "Can I kiss you?"

She swallowed, nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

He leaned in slowly, closing the gap. His lips brushed hers softly, tentatively. She clung to his jacket as the kiss deepened, warmth blooming in her chest, spreading everywhere, every second stretching out.

Then, 

A sharp crack split the air.

Something overhead snapped.

Cassian's hand shot out, grabbed her arm.

The glass exploded. Metal shrieked. The chandelier crashed down, smashing right where she'd been standing a heartbeat ago.