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★★★★★
She should've stayed inside.
Servants weren't supposed to wander. Especially not when the air still trembled with gossip and someone had probably started tallying how many nobles would "accidentally" stab each other before sunrise.
But Eva's feet moved before her brain caught up.She wasn't following him. Not really. Not intentionally.
It was just—something in the way he left. Like the air had grown too loud, or the blood had gone stale, or because the very idea of staying another second among them made his skin crawl.
She understood that.
She slipped out through the side corridor, tray abandoned behind a curtain, breath caught in her throat like a lie she couldn't swallow.
The manor was different out here. Quieter. Older. The hum of magic in the stones felt colder somehow, less polished, like the walls remembered things they weren't supposed to.
She followed the breeze.
Down the servants' hall. Through a rusted side door. Into the night.
The garden loomed like a secret, lit only by the hesitant shimmer of moonlight. Branches swayed above her, skeletal and slow, and the statues scattered along the path watched her like judges too bored to speak.
And then she heard it.
Something... wet.
It was soft. Rhythmic. The kind of sound that didn't belong in a place so still.She turned the corner—and stopped breathing.
There he was.
Duke Rafe.
Standing beneath the bare limbs of an ancient yew, one hand braced against the trunk, the other wrapped around the throat of a man she hadn't seen before. A human. Limbs slack. Head tilted unnaturally.
And Rafe—He was feeding.
No seduction. No cruel smile.
Just his mouth at the man's throat, still and silent and horrifyingly calm.Eva couldn't move.She knew she should. Turn around. Run. Pretend she'd never seen.
But she didn't.
Couldn't.
Her pulse pounded so loud she was certain he'd hear it. Smell it. Feel it.
And then—He looked up. Slow. Precise. Like he already knew she was there.Blood on his lips.Eyes like a winter moon.And for the second time that night, he looked at her.
Not through.
Not past.
At.
Time stopped.
He straightened, letting the man crumple soundlessly to the roots like a broken marionette.Then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You shouldn't have seen that."
His voice was calm. Quiet. The kind of quiet that came right before something terrible.
Eva didn't breathe. Her ribs were too tight, her lungs frozen like the rest of her.
Still, she managed a sound. Something between a cough and a laugh and a prayer to all the gods she didn't believe in.
"Do I look like I meant to?",she said.
Rafe tilted his head. Just a little….Amused
"We don't kill humans unless we have to."
His tone didn't change. No defense. No shame. Just a statement.
Eva stared at the body on the ground.
"Did you… have to?" she asked, and immediately regretted it.
"I was hungry."
Of course. Right. How Silly of her. Totally normal. Casual midnight bite in the murder garden. Happens all the time.
A silence stretched between them, sharp and strange. The garden didn't move. The statues didn't breathe. Even the moon seemed to hesitate.
He was inches away now. Enough to see the dried blood at the corner of his mouth. Enough to realize his eyes weren't just pale—they were hungry.
And then, just when she was sure he was going to do something awful and poetic—
He turned.