soft murmur of voices just beyond the words indistinct, as though the conversation had already begun without her. Her heartbeat quickened as a sense of unease crept up her spine, tightening its grip

f among the books that lined the walls, their ancient spines filled with wisdom she had long been tempted to unravel. But today, the familiar

to soften the rigid lines of his posture. He stood there like a statue-still, unmoving, as though he had become one with the shadows around him.

fiber of her being screamed for her to step back, to turn and flee, but the pull o

e, barely above a whisper, but it cut

ze remained fixed on the fire, the shadows dancing across his face, highlighting the tension in his features.

boots whispering against the polished

eneath that stoic exterior-something raw, something vulnerable. Arabella couldn't quite place it, but she could fe

almost soothing, but it carried an edge undercurrent of something mor

the tightness of her throat. What could she say? How could she even

udible. "You've been avoiding me, Lucian. You've been shutting me out, and I d

eturning to the fire. For a moment, he was silent, the crackling of the flames the only sound in the

need to know," he said, his tone clipp

ers gripping the back of a chair for support. "Don't lie to me, Lucian," she said, her voice trembling

to know the truth?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, like a pro

s it. The moment she had been waiting for. The moment that would

whispered.

ad met him, Arabella saw a flicker of something like hesitation in his eyes. It was a fleeting moment, quickly maske

ing darker. "A legacy that goes back centuries. And that legacy... it's tied to you,

rambled to make sense of his words, but nothing

lla. You're part of something far greater. This family, this mansion, this land's

magnitude of his words. "What do you want fro

ith an intensity she couldn't explain. "You've always known there was something different about this place. A

ality of his words settled over her.

ou're going to learn everything. And when you do, you'll understand w

he wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. She had known that there was something strange about the Monroe fam

voice barely above a whisper

ost as quickly as it had appeared. Lucian reached out, taking her hand gently in his. His touch was cool, almost

and filled with a quiet intensity. "A place

art skipped a

er, as though seeing something far beyond the walls of the room. "Th

r dreams since the first time she had set foot on the grounds of the mansion. She had always

do this," she whispered

hand gently. "You

iding her out of the lib