"Got you." Eloise grinned.
Maxwell pretended not to hear her at first. But the moment the rope tightened around him, he turned slightly, his sharp blue eyes settling on the dark-haired girl who dared to tie him up.
"Let. Her. Go. You freak."
He stared boredly. Her chest rose and fell in heavy bursts, breath coming fast like she'd just sprinted a marathon. Still, she held the rope with wild determination, muscles trembling but firm.
Maxwell raised a brow. "What... are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" she snapped, lifting her chin to glare at him.
But then her eyes caught his face clearly for the first time. Her breath hitched. Her lips parted in disbelief.
Those eyes... that face...Too handsome, bloody hell!
She let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.
"You use that pretty face to steal my best friend? Hah! Men like you can never be trusted. NEVER!"
She forced herself to look away and began circling him, looping the rope around his shoulders.
"You can't escape. Stay obediently tied up, so I can peacefully leave this eerie place with my best friend. As for the marriage, call it off. We'll find a much better suitor."
Maxwell simply watched her—watched how every breath came out shaky, how her hands fumbled with the rope. Who was this little creature?
"Don't act innocent," she hissed. "I know what you are."
He raised a brow.
"I've read about men like you... the charming ones who lure girls into their dorms and drain their youth. I could never trust someone like you."
"Drain their what?"
She pulled the robe tighter. Aside from his intent gaze, he didn't move at all. It was like trying to strangle a mountain, and that calm reaction only vexed her more.
"You won't take Mary! I swear by the saints, if I die tonight, I'll haunt you!"
The thought sent a chill down her spine. Damnation. It had to be this place, this man–something about both made her feel fear. Dear God, how could anyone stay here? No, no. Mary couldn't.
She dragged the rope across his body until all that was left was to tie the knot. To do that, she grabbed both his hands and raised them, but just as she moved to fasten the rope, a tremor passed through her.
There was a moment of stillness. The only sound was the wind sighing against the room.
And then...
"Did you just touch me?" Maxwell blinked at her. For the first time, she got a reaction, and he didn't look pleased. That alone gave her a wild rush of power.
"And I'll do it again," she said. "Now be obedient and let me tie you." She spoke while tightening the knot.
Maxwell frowned, not in anger, but with something he couldn't name. He tilted his head and stared at her, as if she'd broken a sacred rule. Then slowly… he winced. A flicker of pain crossed his face, and his brows drew together.
"That shouldn't be possible," he muttered to himself.
Eloise lifted her head, thinking she'd finally gotten to him, that he was scared, maybe even hurt. "Oh, that got you, huh? Wait till I tie you to a chair. Not even your servants will be able to rescue you."
Maxwell glanced down at the finished knot. "You dare bind me?"
"Oh?" She looked up, a sly smile on her lips. "Just realizing that now? You must think me a fool, to go easy on the man who kidnapped my best friend."
"Kidnap?"
"You've just made yourself an enemy. ME."
"Interesting," he replied flatly, his voice bored, his face still calm. "No one's ever been brave enough to say that."
"Then they must be fools to fear you. You're just a lonely man who lives outside of town. You brought my friend here, lured her into this place—for what? Your entertainment?"
Maxwell stared at her, quietly assessing. Who was this strange creature, this girl who dared to stand so close without trembling?
"You're either brave… or foolish."
"I'm a girl who doesn't like creepy men and creepy places like yours," she shot back. "And I hate closed doors."
"Then you'd better stay far away from me."
Eloise hissed. She'd heard enough. Gripping the end of the robe, she dragged it toward the chair where she planned to make him sit—tie him up. But the nerve of him, he didn't budge. Just tilted his head as she struggled with the fabric.
"Well, comply."
"Why would I?" he asked, staring at her blankly, like she were a squirrel buried beneath cold earth.
"Because I said so. Let's make this easy."
She shoved forward, gasping when he still didn't move. She stomped her foot and spun around, glaring hotly at him. "What are you?"
"A mirror," he said flatly.
She blinked. The intensity of his eyes made her fingers twitch at her side. But she'd been strong all her life, so she didn't let it show. Instead, she scoffed. "Of what?"
"Your end."
The words sent a chill through her. Eloise stood frozen, lips parted, heart pounding.
Just then, the door opened and Mary hurried in. Behind her was her brooding husband.
"What the hell is going on—"
He froze at the sight before him, then leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His eyes widened slightly, lips curving into a smirk. It wasn't a scene he ever expected to witness.
The black-haired woman had to be his wife's best friend–the one she'd come pleading for earlier. Eloise. And apparently, the same Eloise who'd been hunting him down.
But never, not even in his wildest thoughts, did he imagine seeing Maxwell held hostage like he was seconds away from being exorcised.
Mary's eyes flew wide. "Eloise?"
Eloise raised her head, panting, her grip on the robe tight. "I got him, Mary! I've got the bastard!"
McKenna placed a hand over his face.
"That is… my husband's uncle," Mary said, almost frightened at the sight.
"Uncle my foot! This man gives me the creeps," Eloise hissed, turned to him and said, "Come along, I shall tie you to the chair." She continued dragging the unmoving mountain, even though this time, she held his hand.
"You touched me again," Maxwell's voice dropped low, his gaze locked on hers.
Eloise blinked, confused. Her grip slackened. Something in the air shifted, in the coldness around her feet, like a shadow was lurking at the edge of the room.
Mary sighed. "Let go, El. Please. He's not who you think."
Eloise slowly let go, one hand dropping to her side. "I swear, if he's the groom you're married to, I'm burning this house."
"Thankfully, I'm not," Maxwell said dryly. He brushed the rope off his shoulder like dust off a sleeve. In doing so, his fingers grazed hers by accident and Eloise jolted back.
A sharp pulse flickered around her wrist, faint but there. Maxwell noticed. He stared at her hand, frowning, but said nothing. Then he turned and headed toward the door.
McKenna pushed off the wall and reached him, catching the look on his face. "What is it?"
"Nothing that can't be undone," Maxwell said, voice calm and smooth, then walked out like he'd never been there at all.
Eloise stared at her hand, then down at the rope on the floor. "Well, how was I supposed to know?"
Mary looked at her friend, almost stifling a laugh, but knowing Eloise was embarrassed, she forced herself not to. "Well… McKenna here is my husband."
Eloise didn't look up. McKenna just sighed and muttered, "I need wine."