Page 31 of Hellebore

That thought makes my stomach turn, a cold, violent twist.

No one gets to see her dancing in her underwear. No one gets to hear her soft breathing while she sleeps. That is only for me.

I’ve been looking for hours, but her place is clean. Whoever is after her didn’t risk planting anything here.

If I find out someone tried, I will rip his eyes out and feed them to the hellebore roots.

Her computer dings softly. She left it on, screen dark. I wake it with a single tap. No password. Nothing. She trusts too much… and it makes something dark uncoil low in my stomach.

It’s an email from Lucille.

An invitation to some masked dance party this Friday at an old warehouse in the middle of nowhere. They call it “The Nowhere Party.” A ridiculous name.

I shouldn’t let her go. I should delete the email right now and make sure she never hears about it. But a masked dance… that gives me an opportunity.

I click the email so it marks as unread again, then kill the screen. The apartment falls back into shadow and silence. I lock the door behind me and step out.

The rain has finally stopped, but the wind howls down the street. She should be arriving soon.

I slide back into the BMW, the leather creaking under me. I lean back and open the feed on my phone.

There she is.

She’s really good at what she does. She finishes decorating a batch of sugar cookies, black background with bleeding red hearts on top. A weird order, but it suits her perfectly now. The old Briar would have made soft pastel flowers but this version paints blood and darkness without hesitation.

I miss the old her. The quiet, honey-haired girl who blushed at everything, but this new side of her… it doesn’t just intrigue me. It pulls at something deeper. She feels more real— no, she feels like a darkness that could actually stand beside mine.

When we were teenagers she seemed untouchable to someone like me, all black clothes, hair covering half my face, six-foot-seven and weird in the eyes of other kids. Her friends were loud, colorful, popular. She was the quiet one in their group. I barely heard her voice for two whole years. Now she laughs freely. She speaks up.

I don’t know what broke her open and turned sweet Briar into this, but I see the power she carries now, even when fear and darkness still linger behind her eyes.

Her car appears around the corner. She parks in her usual spot and steps out, holding her coat tight against the biting wind. My breath catches.

I watch her walk toward the building, hood up, black hair whipping around her face. She looks small against the night, but there’s a quiet strength in the way she moves.

I take a slow, steadying breath.

Friday, my love.

Friday you will see me, and you will finally understand how much darkness already fills your soul… and how perfectly it matches mine.

Chapter Eleven

BRIAR

Aparty? In the middle of the woods, in an old abandoned warehouse?

Well, this is exactly what the damn doctor ordered, if the doctor was a complete psycho. Because in reality, this is the last thing I need after those weird no-number texts and the black flowers that keep showing up.

I stare at the screen for a long moment, thumb hovering over the delete button. If it was that man… the one who’s been haunting the edges of my life… he would already be here. Waiting. Watching. I don’t even know who he could be, but if he wanted to hurt me⁠—

I shake my head hard, pushing the thought away.

No. I’m not going back to that scared girl Lucille found. I refuse.

I’m going to that party on Friday. I’ll wear something short, black, and dangerous. I’ll find myself a tall, masked hottie and let the night swallow me whole.

My phone vibrates. Lucille’s name lights up the screen.