Chapter 5: The First Threat & Killian’s Return
Chapter 5: The First Threat & Killian's Return
The manor was silent, wrapped in the heavy stillness of the night. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, rattling the windows like an impatient specter demanding entry. Isadora had tried to sleep, but rest remained elusive, her mind replaying the confrontation with Killian over and over again.
She had told him she would rather burn than marry him. She had meant every word.
And yet, long after he had left, his presence lingered like a shadow in her thoughts.
The embers in the fireplace crackled softly, the only source of warmth in her dimly lit chambers. With a tired sigh, she turned onto her side, willing sleep to take her. It was then that she felt it—
A shift in the air.
A presence in the room.
Her breath caught.
Before she could react, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.
A weight pressed against her, pinning her to the mattress. Panic shot through her veins like ice. She struggled, her hands clawing at the grip around her, but the intruder was stronger.
"Do not scream," a voice whispered against her ear, low and edged with warning. "Or this blade will find its way to your throat."
A cold kiss of steel brushed against her skin.
Isadora stilled, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs.
The intruder exhaled slowly, as if assessing her. "Good," he murmured. "You are wiser than you appear."
She couldn't see his face, only the gleam of his eyes in the moonlight. He wore a dark mask, his voice deliberately softened to obscure his identity.
"Who sent you?" she demanded, forcing her voice to remain steady.
He chuckled. "I am not here to kill you, Lady Everhart. Not yet."
The knife slid from her throat to the pillow beside her head. With a quick, effortless motion, he drove it deep into the fabric, the blade embedding itself inches from her face.
"Marry the Duke," he whispered, "or you will not live to see another sunrise."
Isadora's breath shuddered. "You think threatening me will make me bend?"
A pause. Then, amusement laced his tone. "No, but fear is a powerful tool. Consider this my generosity, my lady. Next time, there will be no warning."
The weight lifted as suddenly as it had come.
By the time she tore the dagger from the pillow and leapt from the bed, he was gone.
The curtains fluttered, the window left ajar.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the weapon. Her pulse thundered in her ears. The warning echoed in her mind, a sinister promise laced with certainty.
Marry the Duke, or you will not live to see another sunrise.
Her blood ran cold.
---
Killian's POV
The estate was too quiet.
Killian Blackmoor moved through the surrounding forest, his steps soundless against the damp earth. He had been watching the manor from the shadows for hours, waiting, searching.
Then, he saw it.
A hooded figure slipping from the side of the house, darting toward the trees.
Killian didn't hesitate.
He followed, his movements calculated, his rage controlled. The intruder was quick, but Killian was faster. He gained ground with each step until—
A sudden lunge. A sharp cry.
Killian's hand locked around the assassin's throat, slamming him against the nearest tree.
"Who sent you?" Killian growled, voice low, dangerous.
The man gasped, clawing at Killian's grip. His eyes widened, the realization of who held him turning his fear into sheer terror.
"Speak," Killian ordered, tightening his hold.
The man choked out a rasped laugh. "You're too late, Your Grace. She has already been warned."
Killian's stomach turned to ice. "What did you tell her?"
Another laugh, weaker this time. "That if she does not marry you… she will die."
Rage exploded in Killian's chest.
The crack of breaking bone echoed through the forest.
The man slumped to the ground, unmoving.
Killian stepped back, inhaling deeply, willing the fury to subside. He had expected retaliation, but this… this was bolder than he had anticipated.
"They know she is unprotected," he murmured to himself, jaw clenched. "I have no choice."
He had tried to stay away. He had tried to let her hate him. But now?
Now, staying away was no longer an option.
---
Dawn at Everhart Manor
The morning came far too quickly, and with it, another nightmare.
Isadora had barely slept. She had spent the night gripping the dagger, every rustling branch and shifting shadow sending fresh waves of paranoia through her.
She knew she should alert the guards. But would it matter? Whoever had sent that assassin had known exactly where to find her. Knew she was vulnerable.
A knock at the door startled her. She turned sharply, still clutching the weapon.
"My lady."
It was her maid, her face pale, eyes wide with horror.
"You must come. At once."
Dread coiled in Isadora's stomach. She followed, her grip on the dagger tightening with each step.
The moment she stepped outside, she understood why.
The estate's guards lay dead across the front steps. Their throats slit, their blood staining the cobblestone path. The scent of iron lingered in the morning air.
A cold shiver slithered down her spine.
Then, movement in the distance. A lone rider on horseback, approaching the manor gates at a steady, unwavering pace.
She knew who it was before she even saw his face.
Killian.
His dark cloak billowed behind him, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. He dismounted with practiced ease, his piercing gaze locking onto hers the moment his boots touched the ground.
He looked at the bodies. Then back at her.
His jaw tightened. "We don't have time for another argument."
She held her ground, gripping the dagger, her knuckles white. "You think I will simply forget everything and trust you?"
He stepped closer, voice deadly calm. "I think that if you don't, you'll be dead before the week is over."
Isadora's pulse pounded. She wanted to refute him, to tell him she would never place her fate in his hands again.
But then she remembered the masked man's warning.
Marry the Duke, or you will not live to see another sunrise.
A choice had been made for her, long before this moment.