Chapter 5

ChapterFive

Hunched over a glass of what tasted like wine mixed with sweat, Katherine stared into the red substance and tried very hard not to think about her day. So many people had come in with wounds. So many.

If she closed her eyes, she still saw their skin and the stitches that she wove over and over again. The parting of the flesh and red blood dripping down their sides as she tried her best to stitch them closed again.

Skin shouldn’t look like that. No one should experience standing in a line waiting for people to stitch them closed after they were attacked.

Grace sat on the opposite side of the table, breathing out a long sigh as she stretched her neck from side to side. “Never seen anything like today in all my days of working at the almshouse.”

“Me either.”

“You did good work today, though. Those stitches were neat and tidy.”

Katherine lifted her mug and tried to smile, but the expression felt rather hollow on her face. “Thanks. And to think, I used to spend my days mending dresses and ripped hems.”

“Who would want that job?” Grace clinked their mugs together, and both of them shook their heads.

No one else would spend hours on end at their job. They were useful to the town, that much was certain. But spending the entire day covered in blood and everyone else’s problems? Not something that people really wanted to do.

Only the desperate ended up in her situation and Katherine was well aware of that.

“How many people did we see today?” she asked, her face halfway in the mug as she tried very hard to stay awake.

“Oh, I don’t know. At least thirty.”

“Felt like more.”

“That’s because no one came in with just one wound.” Grace rolled onto her side and then laid down on the bench, disappearing from view. “What did they say it was?”

“Kelpies.”

“Again?”

Katherine shrugged, then remembered her friend couldn’t see her. “Something like that. They didn’t see the creature, so they thought it must be a kelpie considering all the injuries.”

A quiet silence stretched between them before Grace quietly asked, “How much longer are we going to stay here?”

The question hovered in the air. It was the same question almost everyone in the boarding house asked every day. This kingdom wasn’t just hard to live in, it was dangerous. Every day they risked life and limb, and for what?

For the moors, Katherine thought. For the mornings she woke up and saw the mist blanketing the ground like a magic spell. Wisps would dance through it, blinking with the fireflies as the willows wept a sad song in the breeze.

She stayed because she loved it. Because a few hard days at work would never take away from the magic that living here provided. Every day she was greeted with beauty, even if some people didn’t see it in the gray and rainy days that would soon follow.

Swallowing another gulp of wine, she finally said, “No money means no travel, Grace. Or did you forget that?”

Her friend sat up, her hair a dandelion puff around her head. “I know of a way to get money.”

Katherine frowned. “No you don’t.”

“I do.” Grace nodded, her eyes slightly unfocused. Was she drunk? “Look, I know you won’t like the idea of it. Gluttony isn’t anyone’s favorite person, but it’s such a small price to pay if we can get enough money to get out of here.”

What?

What was her friend even talking about? They couldn’t... No one should go up to that castle. Hadn’t she seen what happened to the last girl?

Katherine hooked her finger over her shoulder, pointing as though the castle was right behind her. “You want him to rip out your throat? And did that girl we just treated on this table...” She thumped her finger down, missing the table but then trying again and getting the satisfying thud. “Did she look like she had any money? She’s still here. Still working in the... the...”

Grace was already nodding with every word. “At the mill. She’s one of the seamstresses.”

“A seamstress,” Katherine repeated, drawing out the word as though it was a dream job. “That’s what I wanted to be.”

“No, you didn’t. They don’t get paid half as much as we do and you’re right, she didn’t have any money. But the girl probably dropped it after she realized she was bleeding out at the neck.”

Grace stood, weaving slightly before she grabbed onto the table for balance. She meandered out of the room like she was going to go to Gluttony’s castle right now, and Katherine couldn’t have that.

Lurching up after her friend, the two very drunk women made their way down the hall to Grace’s bedroom. Katherine set her up on the bed, tucking her in maybe a little tight with chops of her hand on every side of her body before attempting to point at Grace’s face. “You’re going to stay right here all night. And we’re going to talk about this in the morning. You got it?”

But Grace was already asleep. So she really didn’t have to worry about her friend sneaking off in the middle of the night.

Grace’s room was so nice, Katherine thought as she stumbled to the door. Her friend was so clean and orderly. Everything was in its right place, and everything had a purpose to be where it was. Bright flowers that were still alive decorated the pretty windowsills. A rug on the floor in rainbow colors, not sun bleached and hazy.

It was all so nice. So cozy. So safe.

All that alcohol didn’t help as she stepped out into the hall. Katherine closed the door behind her and thudded her forehead against it before turning to the long, long hallway that led to her own door.

The door that was her only barrier between herself and the situation that she had told no one else about. The situation that showed up, without fail, every single night.

Blowing out a breath, she made her way to her bedroom. When was the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep? It had been ages. A week maybe?

That shadow always showed up outside her window. Sometimes early, sometimes late. But Katherine always woke when it was there.

She could feel it. The lurking, looming danger of someone watching her while she slept. A part of her brain knew when he was out there, and it always made her heart thunder in her chest and her lungs suddenly squeeze as if preparing for her to run. But she didn’t. She couldn’t run anymore with this damn hip, so she was stuck where she was, hoping like hell that whatever monster stood outside her window wouldn’t come inside.

Putting her hand on the doorknob, she had to fight through her fear to enter her room.

The problem was that it had been getting closer. Every night she didn’t scream or cry out for someone to help her, it got a few steps closer. Last night, it had been in the hidden shadows of the next building. So close it would only take a few steps for her to lunge forward and touch it.

Why was it coming closer? Why was it coming anywhere near her at all?

These were questions she couldn’t ask. Every time she tried to open her mouth when she saw it, to either scream for help or to shout at it to leave, she ended up frozen. Incapable of speech.

Why?

She had no idea. But some hidden fear inside of her worried it was because she wasn’t brave at all. That she’d spent her entire life pretending she was so much more than she actually was. And that feeling burned through her chest so heavily that it turned her fear into anger.

Or maybe that was the alcohol. Katherine wanted to pretend it was because she was brave, so she was going with that.

Instead of bolting underneath the covers like she’d been doing every night since she first saw it, Katherine took her time. If her peeping tom wanted a show, then she’d give him a show.

Katherine took her time undressing. She let her overdress fall to the ground, then stood in nothing but her shift. The chilly wind coming in through her open window brushed against her skin and it felt so good. So good to just stand there and let it cool her warm cheeks. Her bare arms soon were speckled with goosebumps, but it didn’t matter. She wanted to feel the touch of the wind.

The touch of... a gaze.

He was here.

Her breath caught for a few moments before she let it wheeze out of her. She’d wanted this. This was the point of what she was doing. She wanted him to see her standing here, and...

All her nerves roared back to life. What was she doing? She had someone who stood outside her window every night, trying to either scare her or manipulate her. He was probably some murderer or the magical creature that was attacking all those people she had just stitched back up. The last thing she needed was to show him all the pearly white skin he could ruin with a sharp knife and creativity.

At least her shift didn’t show many of her scars. Stiff, she walked over to her small table with a mirror and started brushing out the tangles in her hair. She hadn’t done it in a while, but the slow strokes had always eased her mind.

Of course, it was better when someone else was doing it. She didn’t enjoy ripping through the knots and her arms got so tired.

Still, the lulling sensation of the brush eased that tension that had gathered at the base of her spine. She could almost pretend that there wasn’t someone out her window, watching her, waiting to see what she would do next.

And the sensation of those eyes on her had stirred something else. Something darker that coiled in her belly and made her grow slick between her thighs.

The forbidden, she thought. Perhaps it was that she was doing the wrong thing right now, and they both knew it. She was tempting him. Tempting the monster just outside her windowsill.

In the mirror she caught a shifting of darkness and again, that spike of fear made her freeze.

He was right outside her window. So close that if she leaned even a little bit, she would be able to see who it was. And it was definitely a man. That frame, those features, the shape of the shadow, all of it.

And oh, that heat burned ever hotter.

She was stupid. This was playing with fire, and she knew better. Slamming her brush down on the table, she felt a small amount of satisfaction as the shadow moved away.

Let him be afraid. He was the one who was stalking her, and he had no right to do it.

But still, she could feel how embarrassingly wet she was as she made her way over to her bed. Ignoring the window. Ignoring the man who thought he could watch her and she wouldn’t even notice.

She slithered underneath the cool covers and threw the blanket up to her neck. Rolling onto her side, she stared at the window for a few minutes longer before a plan rose in her mind.

If he was this close, maybe he would get even closer if she pretended to be asleep. Maybe she could actually see who it was that thought he had a right to linger in the darkness.

Was it Jackson? He’d been overly friendly at the almshouse lately, but they shared the same shift and she’d been taking on a lot of work for him. She’d always thought he had a thing for Grace, so why would he be... here? Wouldn’t he be at Grace’s door?

Alcohol induced choices continued to run her evening. So instead of doing the smart thing and calling for help, Katherine stayed awake and pretended to drift into sleep.

She measured her breaths, even and quiet and oh so delicate. She let her hand fall limp by her face, just enough to cover her slitted gaze if she had to. Enough so that anyone would likely think she was asleep.

And then...

Oh, and then.

A hand reached through her window. Long fingers, graceful in their movements, tipped with neat black claws that were so sharp she could see the little wood curls they left as he clenched her windowsill. Almost as though he was angry. Doing the same thing he’d done all those nights ago.

And by all the seven kingdoms, she really was an idiot because she felt an answering gush between her legs. She wanted those fingers to touch her. To stroke her skin and to part her thighs and do all those wicked things that Katherine wanted someone to do. Desperately.

Clenching her thighs together, she forced herself to remain still and silent as her shadow lifted himself through the window and then crouched on her floor. But when he rose to his great height, her breath stuttered.

Taller than most men she’d ever seen, lean and muscular, the man now standing in her living room was clearly a god. He’d stepped out of a portrait painted by one of the greats, with a face that would send any woman onto her knees as she begged for a taste of him. Chiseled, clean lines, red eyes that saw too much. A full mouth, with kissable lips just below a long nose. And his hair, oh, his hair. Long and dark, like a waterfall of ink that fell just below his ribcage.

He wore all black, and his button-down shirt had been opened to reveal pale muscles that were likely hard as rocks.

He was... glorious.

Handsome.

No, that wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t enough to describe the beauty that made her eyes sting with tears because he was perfection personified and it hurt to even look at him.

And then he took a step forward, and she remembered to be afraid. He was in her room.

He was in her room.

He’d never given her the impression that he would come all the way inside, and if he had, then she wouldn’t have put on that stupid show for him. She wouldn’t have tempted him to step all the way up to her bed.

Those gleaming red eyes reminded her, horrifically, of what so many of her patients had said. He was handsome, but his eyes were that of a demon. He hadn’t looked at all dangerous until he had met their eyes and then suddenly they remembered he was the demon king.

Was this... Gluttony?

Was the king himself in her room?

And then her heart thundered in her chest because the mattress just beside her head dipped as he braced himself against it. With one smooth movement, slow and calculated, he leaned down and...

Sniffed her? Inhaled her scent deep into his lungs and then suddenly, he was gone again.

She sat straight up in her bed, clutching the blankets to her chest as she wildly looked around in the moonlight.

But he was gone. Like he’d never been here at all.