Free Web NovelChapter 83: Chapter 83
The scrutiny had become unbearable. Every glance thrown in their direction felt like sharp needles pricking her skin, like insects crawling across her arms and down her spine. Circe tried her best to mask her discomfort, forcing herself to sit still and maintain composure, but every so often, she shifted restlessly in her seat. Apparently, she wasn’t hiding it as well as she thought, because Ragnar soon turned to look at her, concern flickering across his otherwise unreadable face.
His lips parted, ready to speak, but Circe was faster. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping softly against the floor.
"I need to step outside for a while," she said, her voice calm but clipped.
Ragnar’s brows furrowed as he tilted his head to look up at her. "What’s wrong?"
Could he not feel it? Could he not sense the thick, oppressive weight of the stares pressing down on them since they had arrived? He was usually so perceptive, always aware of every shift in the room, every subtle tension in the air. Surely he must have noticed. Did they not make his skin crawl too? Or had he grown so accustomed to it that the discomfort no longer registered?
Circe had been raised in a castle. She was no stranger to curious eyes or whispered judgments. Being watched had been the backdrop of her life from the moment she first learned to walk. But this was different. These stares were not laced with idle curiosity or idle gossip. They were colder. Hungrier. These were the eyes of vampires, many of whom likely saw her as little more than prey, a fragile human trespassing in their world.
Instead of voicing her thoughts, she offered him a faint, half-hearted smile that looked more like a grimace. "I won’t be gone long," she murmured. "If I stay out too long... you can come find me."
It was more than a reassurance, it was a precaution. No matter how gilded her surroundings were, she was never truly safe here. Not in a land where monsters wore courtly smiles and noble titles.
If the situation had been different, she might have stayed. She might have endured it. But the longer she remained inside, the more suffocated she felt, as though her skin itched with the need to escape. The moment she stepped outside, the cool night air met her like a balm on her flushed skin and she exhaled, her shoulders dropping just slightly in relief.
She didn’t know how long she walked, only that she wandered farther and farther from the building, her steps slow and aimless. The quiet enveloped her, a welcome change from the din of voices and the hum of tension that hung in the air indoors. Burning torches lined the pathways, flickering against the dark, guiding her steps. Eventually, she found herself at the edge of the estate, where a tranquil pond mirrored the night sky in its still surface. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
The music from the ballroom was little more than a whisper now, barely audible over the chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of the night breeze. Above her, the stars stretched endlessly, glittering like tiny diamonds scattered across the night sky. Slowly, the weight she carried in her chest began to loosen. The tightness in her limbs and muscles unwound. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to simply breathe and for a fleeting moment, she felt something that closely resembled peace.
But the moment didn’t last.
A twig snapped a few feet away from where she stood. Without even turning back to check, she knew it had to be Ragnar. It had to be him. She must have been gone for far too long and he came looking for her like she told him he could. Like she knew he would.
Yet something wasn’t right.
He said nothing. Not even a single sound left his lips. The silence that followed was very unnatural, hollow in a way that made the hairs on her neck rise. The footsteps approaching her were heavier, quicker and more urgent, so unlike the measured gait of the man she had grown used to hearing at her side.
A chill slithered down her spine.
She turned her head slightly, and in the corner of her eye, she caught the flash of steel. Instinct took over. She threw herself backward just in time to avoid the sharp arc of the dagger, the blade slicing through empty air where her throat had been.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she stumbled away from her attacker, but he didn’t pause. He came at her again, the dagger glinting in the torchlight, his movements brutal and swift. She wasn’t fast enough the second time. The blade grazed her cheek, carving a stinging line into her flesh. Warm blood welled from the wound and trickled down her jaw.
He was relentless. Dressed in the fine garments of nobility, his face was unfamiliar, but his speed and precision left no doubt in her mind that he was a vampire. One that had a weapon and clearly no intention of sparing her life.
Circe was unarmed and was powerless in comparison.
Each time he swung, she was driven closer and closer to the edge of the pond. She did her best to evade him, her limbs trembling with adrenaline and fear, but she was outmatched. On his third strike, she barely managed to duck away. On the fourth, she lost her footing.
With a cry, she fell backward into the water but not before her hand shot out and gripped the front of his embroidered coat in a desperate reflex. Her fingers curled around the fine fabric and she pulled with all her strength, dragging him along with her into the murky depths.
They both plunged into the pond, their bodies hitting the water with force, causing a loud splash.
The water closed over them with a violent rumble, swallowing their struggle in a rush of cold and silence.
