The Pact

Evelyn plunged into the icy waves, the storm swallowing her scream. Saltwater burned her lungs as the undertow dragged her deeper. A hand seized her wrist—Ronan, hauling her onto a jagged rock.

"Dramatic exits suit you," he said, his coat slick with rain.

She coughed, seawater and rage. "You tried to kill me."

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be with the shipwrecks." He tossed her a rusted key. "Church cellar. Midnight."

The key was stamped with the needle-and-moon crest.