The Donovan estate was quiet that night, but it wasn't the comforting silence I had grown accustomed to. It was heavy and pressing.
I lay in bed, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, with Marie's words echoing in my mind, "You are family here." While the warmth of those words lingered, so did Edward's warning, "but family is how they'll try to break us."
The thought chased sleep away, leaving only restless shifting, and that's when I heard it. A soft, almost imperceptible scrape outside my window.
At first, I told myself it was just the wind. But then I saw a faint shadow cutting across the moonlight that spilled through the curtains.
I realized someone was there, someone was watching me.
My chest tightened. I couldn't move or could I breathe, but then instinct pushed me forward. I forced myself out of bed, my heart pounding, and edged toward the window.
The figure shifted. It was tall,still and waiting.
I gasped and stepped back, straight into a pair of strong arms.
-
I had been patrolling the halls, unable to sleep. Ever since Father's warning about the breach, I felt an itch beneath my skin, a need to keep moving, watching, protecting.
When I reached Ellie's room, the faint sound of her gasp sent every muscle in my body on edge. I pushed the door open just in time to catch her trembling as she retreated from the window.
"What is it?" My voice was sharp and urgent.
She pointed, her lips parted, but no words came. I didn't need them. I saw it, the flicker of a shadow just beyond the glass.
Fury surged through me, cold and deadly. Whoever dared to come this close to her was already living on borrowed time.
"Stay behind me," I said, pulling her close and shielding her with my body. My hand slipped to the weapon at my side as I moved toward the window.
The figure shifted again and then vanished into the dark. Coward, or maybe a warning but either way, it was too close.
I turned back to Ellie, who stood pale but unbroken, her fists clenched tightly. I could see she was afraid, and I noticed the tremor of her lips, but there was fire in her demeanour as well. She hadn't collapsed, and she hadn't even run.
"I saw them," she whispered.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my thumb lingering on her cheek. "I know. And you'll never see them alone again. I swear it."
Her eyes searched mine, fear mingling with something else. I could see trust in her gaze, and that's when I knew she had begun to believe in me, in us, in this family. She started to act as if she had always been a part of it. My heart skipped a beat as I looked into her eyes, and I felt the immense control it took to resist the urge to hug her at this crucial moment.
The vow settled between us, heavy and unshakable. Whoever had marked her, whoever had breached our walls, would learn that the Donovan family didn't bend, and I never broke my word.