Page 48 of Wicked Embers

O enas pou tha skotosei tous drakous sou

O enas pou echei mia dekaetia na exoraksei

O enas pou borei na se voithisei na eíse eleftheri.

My breath catches, my throat dry, the words stirring something deep inside me as I translate them:

The one who walks beside you in the shadows.

The one who watches over you when you’re at your most vulnerable.

The one you hold in your heart that gives you strength when you need it.

The one that would give their life for yours without so much as a blink of an eye.

The one that will slay your dragons.

The one that has a decade to make up for.

The one who can help set you free.

I stare at the screen, my mind racing. The words feel hauntingly familiar, unsettling yet oddly comforting, and again I’m haunted by a fragment of a memory I can’t quite grasp.

Another message pops up:

You’d better hide your phone, little Duchess Lulu-Petal! Someone’s coming.

The air freezes around me as fear claws its way up my spine. I stare at the phone wide-eyed, confused, tendrils of unease wrapping around me, making my skin prickle. Suddenly, I’m swamped with the unmistakable sensation of being watched.

A sharp knock shatters the silence, reverberating like a thunderclap through the stillness. My feet feel rooted to the floor, and my heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird. I nearly drop the phone when the knock comes again, louder this time.

And then it hits me—the unmistakable sensation of being watched, a cold prickle creeping over my skin. Fear paralyzes me.

Chapter 18

LEIGH

“Leigh?” Dolph’s voice cuts through the silence as the bedroom door creaks open, flooding me with relief.

Oh, thank God it’s Dolph!

For a second, I thought I was in one of those horror movies where the ominous phone call turns out to be coming from inside the house.

I quickly switch off the phone, hide it, and walk into the bedroom, masking my nerves with feigned annoyance.

“What?” I frown, crossing my arms to sell the act. Inside, I’m barely restraining myself from jumping into his arms and clinging to him like a terrified baby koala. It’s taking everything I’ve got to keep my jelly legs from buckling beneath me. “Is something wrong? Have I been summoned to the bowels of hell for a thousand lashings?”

Dolph sighs, undeterred. “Do you mind if I do a quick sweep of the room? Writing area, dressing rooms, bathrooms?”

“Looking for contraband, Mr. Prison Warden?” I arch a brow, sarcasm dripping to cover the sheer relief coursing through me.

He moves through the space, checking every corner, bolting windows and doors. I fight the urge to trail him, following his every move like a nervous shadow.

I’ve seen enough horror movies to know leaving the guy behind usually means someone’s about to get killed. I force myself to play it cool, hoping Dolph doesn’t notice I’m on the verge of giving myself whiplash trying to keep an eye on every damn window and door.

Seriously, how many fucking windows and doors does one room need? For a family of criminals, you’d think they’d limit to many windows and hiding places for assassins.

I hear Dolph walk into the bathroom, and my stomach twists.Did I turn off my phone properly?That’s all I need—to get caught because of a vibrating phone. The reason I haven’t told Dolph I think I’m being watched is because I rather not admit I have the phone. Although maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after the blocked number messenger.

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