Page 98 of Sweet Silver Bells
“Let myself be a witch, then? That’s what I should do? And then say it back, say that I love you?”
“I would never tell you what to say,” Hunter said.
Olivia’s chest rose and fell as she breathed, staring at him silently, thinking, contemplating.
“I don’t belong in this world, Hunter.”
“I know.” He nodded.
“You don’t belong here either.”
“No?”
“No. That’s why your song woke me up. That’s why you heard the music.” Olivia stepped back, her heel hitting the marble with a new intent. Her hand lingered on his as she grabbed him, tugging, asking.
“Come with me,” she whispered, but it was loud enough for him to understand, to grab hold of unspoken promises, of seduction under holiday decor and a grandiose display of wealth.
“Where?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Where do you want to go?”
“Away, Hunter. I’ve always just wanted to take you away. Say yes.”
“I’m yours. However, you need me. However you’ll have me.”
She looked at him as if that was not answer enough, or she was unsure.
“Let me clarify,” he continued. “Yes.”
It’s all she seemed to be waiting to hear—her breath caught in the space between them, eyes wide like a flame had just been lit behind them. Then her body was moving, reaching for him as though the ache of distance had been unbearable, as though it were possible for them to become one soul in two skins. Her hands found the sides of his face, velvet-gloved and trembling slightly as she hummed, and her scent changed to something sweet, something toxic.
It didn’t come shyly, nor gently. Olivia kissed him like a woman desperate to memorize his taste before time pulled them apart. And he kissed her back just as fiercely, as though theshape of her mouth was the only true thing he’d ever known. Their lips moved like they had something to say that couldn’t be told in words. As if life itself hung in the balance of that moment—hungry, breathless, full of everything they had never dared admit.
The world around them softened. The sounds of laughter and music dulled to a hush, like someone had placed thick velvet over the whole ballroom. The candles flickered taller. The air thickened.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other’s, Hunter shivered.
Not from cold—but from something deeper, stranger. A chill that bloomed inside his ribs and radiated outward, like a snowfall beginning in his lungs. His fingers tightened instinctively around the band of his watch. The metal felt too warm, too still.
Something is off.
The feeling wasn't fear exactly—it was wonder laced with disquiet. The sense that they weren’t entirely real anymore. That they were simply figures inside a snowglobe someone had shaken too hard—spinning, swirling, trapped in perfect motion. The storm outside still howled against the windows, but the droplets never touched the glass.
Time hadn’t just slowed.
It had stopped.
And in that eerie stillness, something inside him whispered:Remember this. This is the last time you’ll ever feel the world breathing.
Olivia pulled back just enough to look at him. Her eyes were wet, shining with something that looked too big to name.
“It’s calling. Can you hear it?” she whispered.
Hunter could.
28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.
There was music again—ethereal and faerie-like, a call, a promise, a broken heart. The band was there, setting back up as they prepared for their next set, but they were not playing.
