Chapter 3: Candles in the Dark

I still married Julian. My heart was pounding, my hands clammy, but I didn't look back.

That was the happiest night of my life. The joy was real—I truly felt happy, even if the wedding reception left me exhausted and a little dizzy.

I remember so many details of the wedding, but they're hard to describe—only the beautiful lanterns floating on the lake, like the Milky Way. For a long time, whenever I closed my eyes, I could see them, glowing and silent.

Unlike Julian, I wasn't burdened. He worried I was too tired, told me to rest in my room first. I watched him fuss, his brow furrowed with concern, and I felt a warmth in my chest.

The music never stopped that day, making my head spin. I sent the bridesmaids away, sat alone in my room, opened the window, and saw the lanterns drifting quietly under the night sky. The air was cool, the silence comforting.

I leaned on the window, listening to the faint sound of water. The spring chill hadn't faded, and the night grew colder, bit by bit. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.

Someone was in the room—I could feel it. Someone stood behind me. My skin prickled, and I turned, heart pounding.

A stranger.

He laughed, a low, unsettling sound that made my spine tingle.

"Won't you turn around and look at me?" he said. "I really want to see you."

My hand gripped the window frame. I slowly turned around, heart hammering in my chest.

The room was dark, only the light of the lanterns outside. He stood in the watery glow, breath cold and damp, pupils too black, sclera too white, two dark blue marks under his eyes. My pulse raced.

He stared at my face, walked closer, silent as a snake. I could almost hear the blood rushing in my ears.

"You—" I tried to speak, my voice barely a whisper.

He stopped, stared deeper. I felt the hairs on my neck rise.

"You're not from here," he suddenly said, voice soft as a whisper, gaze relaxing, pulling back like a hook. "Don't you want to go home?"

"I can take you home," he murmured temptingly, still coming closer. "Leave here."

I was cold all over. Instinctively, I knew what he meant by "home." My stomach twisted.

"How do you know?" I forced myself to sound steady. "Who are you?"

He raised a finger, shushing me, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"Me? That's not important." He smiled. "Just think of me as a meddlesome warlock."

I felt a chill in my hand—the cold of metal. My fingers curled around it before I even realized what it was.

A silver dagger.

In fear, I raised the dagger at him. My hand shook, but I tried to look brave.

He smiled ambiguously, came closer, his face almost touching the blade, looking at me with a strange fascination.

"That's right, just like that. Raise the knife and kill it," he whispered. "Kill it, and you can go home."

I didn't want to listen anymore. My heart hammered in my chest.

"Get out," I gritted my teeth, pressing the blade to him. "Damn you!"

"Yes, yes, I should die, we all should." He shook his head, backing away, made a shushing gesture. "Don't speak, your husband is coming."

This lunatic! I could barely catch my breath.

"I'm really curious," he whispered in my ear. "If the one I told you to kill was him, what would you choose?"

"Bailey?"

A gentle knock—it was Julian. Relief flooded me, and I almost sagged with it.

I looked around the room. The candles were out, silence, empty—not even a trace of breath remained. I shivered, trying to steady myself.

I took a deep breath and threw the silver dagger out the window. My hands trembled as I watched it disappear.

In the dark, I leaned on the window frame and heard it plop into the water. I closed my eyes, willing my heart to slow.

Julian came to me. His presence was a comfort I didn't know I needed.

I hugged him tightly, his scent calm and warm, pressing down the chill of my fear. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his steadiness.

"Bailey?" He sounded surprised, gently stroking my back. His hands were warm.

"Don't move. Let me hold you," I pressed against him and whispered, "I want to hear your heartbeat."

My own heartbeat was chaotic and painful, but his was strong and steady. I let myself be soothed by it.

Julian didn't ask anything else, just quietly held me. The silence between us was thick but safe.

Outside, water whispered, and the cold slowly retreated under his warmth, until it finally disappeared. I let myself relax, just a little.

In his arms, I thought of the silver dagger. Was it wise to throw it away like that? I didn't know. But if I kept it, what would I do? He said, "kill it"—who is "it"?

What if it really was Julian? The Julian holding me now—warm, solid, my Julian, his heart pressed close to mine. The thought made my stomach twist.

I absolutely cannot—absolutely must not do that. Not just to him—how could I do that to anyone?

That would be selfish, despicable. I shuddered at the idea.

His words weren't to be trusted, even less to be acted on. I forced myself to let go of the thought.

Don't think about the silver dagger anymore—it's already sunk to the bottom of the lake. I closed my eyes, focusing on Julian's warmth.