Page 22 of Red Lace Manor

“I’ll think about it…Ifyou take your mask off.” That request seemed like a way to stop this conversation before it started.

He went completely still, eyes trained on me as ifIwere the predator. And then, ever so slowly, he reached up and slipped the mask off. The bells jingled as he raised it up and over his head before tossing it in the vague direction of the rest of his clothes.

And, holyshit, the man under the jester mask wasn’t what I’d expected at all.

His face had an almost regal quality to it. Some of the auburn hair I’d noticed earlier had fallen out of the braids and stuck to the sweat glistening on his skin. Yet another scar spanned his cheekbone, but this one was mostly hidden underreddish freckles. To top it all off, he had dark green eyes that lookedthroughyou.

“My name isCassian, by the way,” he said almost sheepishly. “I know yours, so it’s only fair.”

“Solomon said you guys don’t really tellbridesyour names.”

A crooked smile lifted one side of his lips, exposing a few perfectly white teeth.

“We don’t.”His voice was low and rough. “But, I've also never had a bride bandage me up…Orstab me for that matter. So, thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” I said matter-of-factly as I placed the last bandage. “So, if the brides don’t usually stab you, where did you get all of those?”

I gestured toward his chest, and he looked down as if the scars were news to him. He ran a hand over the marred skin, lips twitching into a frown. He was strangely expressive for a man who ran around in a mask for fun.

“I uh… it’s a long story.” A wry laugh twisted his words.

“I have time.”

Cassian’s gaze flickered toward the locked cellar door, his crooked grin instantly falling.

“No, you don’t.” He remained completely focused on the wood separating us from the outside world. “Ronan’s outside the door, I can hear him breathing. Hesmellsyou, so it’s only a matter of time before he busts in.”

I froze, trying to hearanyof what Cassian was talking about, all I got was the pounding of my heart.

Was he fucking with me?

“You can hear that?” I whispered.

He gave a small humorless laugh that made mebelievehe was telling the truth, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Look, you can’t stay here. If someone catches me, I have to go fromcuddlytomurdery, and that wouldreallykill the vibe,” he snorted.

“Then where am I supposed to go?” My nerves picked up, and suddenly the idea of exploring the manor became even more daunting.

Cassian stopped for a moment, gnawing on his lip as if deep in thought. Then, a heavystompthreatened to break the cellar door.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, and Cassian forced me to my feet. He used his free hand to snatch my bag and tossed it to me. I stumbled, but I caught it, even if just barely.

“If you keep looking that way—” He gestured toward the darkest part of the cellar. “There’s a tunnel. It used to be a passage for servants or some shit. Seth’s the one to ask, not me. It’s too small for Ronan to fit in, and it’ll pop you out somewhere in the west wing.”

I stared into the void, trying to picture any of that.

“Then what? Hide?” That’d been my plan the entire evening, and I’d failed miserably.

Cassian shook his head as another, much harder stomp, caused dirt to fall in around the cellar door.

“There’s a library—Seth keeps random shit there. If you want answers, that’s your place. Just, GO!”

As if on command, the cellar door caved in. Moon light poured in around Ronan’s massive figure.

“I’ve found you, Little Light.” His snarl barely sounded human.

My heart lurched to my throat as he leapt in, not daring to use the stairs. Without further prompting, I sprinted toward the tunnel, but I wasn’t the only one.

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