Esther needed to break the tension. She gathered her books, preparing to leave.
"Rough day for studying, Samuel?" she asked, trying for a light tone.
Samuel looked up, his eyes briefly flashing with an intensity that surprised her. "It's the storm coming, Esther. A bad one. You should stay inside tonight." His voice was low, deep, and held a strange command.
Before Esther could answer, Fortune stepped smoothly between them, blocking Samuel's view of her. He leaned in, his voice a cool, intoxicating whisper.
"Nonsense, Esther. Bad weather is the perfect time for a walk. The world is quieter in the rain. And safer, when you are with the right company."
His pale hand reached out and lightly brushed the silver necklace she wore—a gift from her grandmother. The touch was unnaturally cold, sending a jolt down her spine. It felt like a subtle, possessive claim.
"Stay away from her, Fortune," Samuel warned, his chair scraping back as he stood, his large body radiating heat and threat.
Fortune merely smiled, a predatory curve of his lips. "Why, Samuel? She must choose her shield. The one that keeps her warm, or the one that keeps her safe from the rising tide." He stepped back, a final, cold claim made by his lingering stare.