I Don't Believe You

Sera

It was midnight by the time Killian came home.

I lay tucked in between his silky black sheets, wearing one of his shirts, reading a book about gardening that I’d found in one of the parlors. Sleep tugged at my eyelids, and the words on the page were starting to blur, but I had to stay awake.

I had to apologize to him. I couldn’t sleep well knowing our last interaction wasn’t a good one.

I kept the door cracked, so when I heard the sounds of entry in the distance, my heart lurched in fear as much as it did happiness. After Briggs, a seed of uncertainty had been placed in my chest. What if it wasn’t Killian, and someone else discovered how to infiltrate the manor?

The side table lamp was on beside me, too, filling the room with a warm, soft glow so that when Killian walked in, he wouldn’t have to fumble around in the dark—or freak out when I spoke from the gloom.

His hand pushed open the door, and he slipped in, his eyes finding mine as if magnetized. A lightness filled me.

“Welcom