Page 43 of Unholy Nights

Four words. That's all it takes to make my heart go completely wild and my skin feel like it's on fire, which is kind of impressive considering my room is basically the North Pole right now temperature-wise.

I'd know that handwriting anywhere. It’s all clean lines and sharp angles, just like the man himself. Because of course Cohen even manages to make his handwriting hot.

This is such a bad idea. The chapel's way out at the edge of the property, and if my mother caught me sneaking out?

God, I don't even want to think about what she'd do. Three days without food would probably be the least of my punishments.

But I'm already getting out of bed, so...

But I'm already sliding out of bed, so clearly my self-preservation instinct is broken. Or maybe it's because the chapel's the only place on this entire estate that feels like mine, even though I’ve never stepped foot inside.

Plus, Cohen's waiting.

Yeah, because that's totally a good reason to risk your mother's wrath, Emerald.

But I'm still going.

There's something about knowing Cohen's waiting that makes my whole body feel weirdly buzzy, like I've had way too much caffeine (which would never happen since Mother monitors my intake). Every cell feels like it's waking up for the first time, and the way he talked about the chapel earlier, all quiet and intense... yeah, there's no way I'm staying in bed.

My hands shake so bad it takes me three tries to zip up my boots, and then I slip into my jacket.

The house is creepy-quiet, just the heating running and the antique grandfather clock ticking away in the hall like it's counting down to something. I press my ear against my door, listening for any sign of movement. Like, I don't know, mymother's cloven hooves clomping down the hall to catch me being a huge disappointment.

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

Walking through the house at night is trippy. Everything looks different in the dark, all the fancy antiques casting weird shadows in the light reflecting off the snow. My heart's pounding so loud I'm amazed it doesn't wake anyone up as I sneak through the kitchen and out the back door.

The cold hits like a slap in the face almost as hard as my mother.

I follow Cohen's footprints in the snow, trying not to think about how this is probably going to end badly. The Christmas lights Mother insisted on stringing everywhere make the snow look kind of magical though, all these colors bleeding together. An owl screeches somewhere and I nearly jump out of my skin.

Every step puts more distance between me and my mother's kingdom, bringing me closer to... whatever this is with Cohen.

This is such a bad idea.

But I keep walking.

The chapel materializes out of the snow and night, its silhouette rising from the trees like something torn from a gothic fairytale. For something that's been my favorite view since forever, it looks different up close at night. The moonlight hits the stained glass just right, making colors dance across the snow. There's this warm glow coming from inside and it takes me a second to realize what it is.

Candles.

My heart stumbles. He’s already here. Waiting for me.

My hand's shaking so bad I almost can't get the door open. When I finally do, it lets out a loud creak, and I step into... wow. It’s a world of flickering shadows and golden light. There are candles everywhere, and someone (three guesses who)has wrapped evergreen garlands around the pews. It smells amazing, like Christmas trees and old wood and melting wax.

It's nothing like I imagined, and somehow it's better.

"You came." Cohen's voice emerges from the shadows near the altar. It’s low and gravelly and the entire lineup of birds fromThe Twelve Days of Christmastake flight in my stomach.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

He steps into the light and...oh. He's wearing all black, the fabric of his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. The candlelight catches the silver in his eyes, making him look otherworldly. Dangerous.

"No," he says, with a gorgeous half-smile. "I knew you would. You can't resist me any more than I can resist you."

He walks toward me, and I freeze like a deer in headlights, torn between bolting and throwing myself at him. Instead, I force myself to stay still.

"This place is incredible," I manage to say, trying to slow down my racing heart. "I can't believe I've never been inside before."

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