The weight of his gaze lingered long after the stranger had walked away, and it infuriated me how I couldn't shake the feeling. Who was he? Why did his presence claw its way into my mind like a lingering scent of danger? The fact that Duke Callum had yet to address it directly only made it worse.
I turned to him, resting my gloved hands on the edge of the ornate table, my voice casual—too casual. "Who was that?"
Callum's lips twitched in amusement, but there was something in his eyes—something guarded. "You wound me, pet. Here you are, in my company, and you're already asking about another man?" His voice dripped with mocking offense.
I didn't rise to the bait. "I don't like not knowing things."
His smirk deepened. "Curiosity killed the cat."
"Satisfaction brought it back," I shot back immediately.
His expression darkened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. "There is no satisfaction in this answer, I assure you."
That only made me more determined. "Then why don't you let me be the judge of that?" I tilted my head, feigning patience.
His fingers drummed lazily on the table before he sighed theatrically. "If I tell you, will you promise to stop talking about him while you're with me? It's rather insulting."
I crossed my arms. "No promises."
Callum exhaled sharply through his nose, his amusement draining just slightly. "That was Lord Cedric Vaughn. Or, if you prefer his less polite title, the Butcher of Briarwood."
The name settled like ice in my stomach. I had heard whispers of that name before—among the maids, the guards, hushed voices when they thought no one was listening. A man whose power rivaled kings, whose cruelty was legendary, and whose enemies met ends too gruesome to recount.
I wasn't stupid enough to let Callum see how that unsettled me.
"Butcher? That's a little dramatic, don't you think?" I said, keeping my voice steady.
Callum watched me carefully, a slow, deliberate smirk curling his lips. "You don't survive in his world by being merciful. If you were wise, you'd forget he even exists."
My fingers curled under the table. "If he's so dangerous, why didn't you seem concerned when he was here?"
Something flickered across Callum's face—brief but telling.
"Concerned?" He let out a low, amused chuckle, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No, little one. The concern is for those who don't understand him."
"And you do?" I challenged.
He leaned in closer, his presence pressing into my space. "I know how to play his games better than anyone."
A shiver ran down my spine, but I masked it well. "So are there any rules?"
His smirk faded just slightly. "You don't want to know the rules, darling. You might just want to break them."
I scoffed. "You think you know me so well?"
Callum tilted his head, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "I know that you hate feeling powerless. That you loathe the idea of being controlled. But you're in a world where power is currency, and you?" His gaze flickered over me, assessing, calculating. "You're just starting to learn how expensive your presence truly is."
I clenched my jaw, but his words sank in. I wasn't naive enough to believe I could waltz into their world unscathed. But that didn't mean I had to bow to it either.
"And Lord Cedric?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain indifferent. "What does he want?"
Callum exhaled slowly as if debating whether to humor me. Then, with a sharp smile, he said, "To see you dead."
The words hung in the air between us, suffocating, curling around my throat like invisible fingers.
I should have flinched. Should have looked away. Instead, I stared right back at him. "Whyy..?"
Callum's smirk returned, slow and deliberate. "Because men like him don't believe humans should have a place among us. And because you are—unfortunately for you—a problem he did not anticipate."
A chill ran through me, but I kept my expression neutral. "Whatever, you are enjoying this aren't you?"
Something dangerous flashed in Callum's gaze before he laughed, low and rich. "Oh, I do enjoy you, pet."
I bristled. "Don't call me that. And don't call me by my name either—it makes people think we're closer than we are."
That amusement in his face flickered—just for a moment. Then, almost contemptuously, he inclined his head. "As you wish."
The way he said it made my skin prickle.
"Cedric won't play fair," Callum continued, his tone darkening. "And you, despite that clever little mouth of yours, are playing with stakes you don't fully comprehend."
I met his gaze, unflinching. "Then I guess I'll have to learn quickly."
For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then, with a slow, knowing smile, he murmured, "Oh, you will. One way or another."
The air between us was charged, thick with something I didn't quite know how to name. Callum might have thought this conversation was a warning, but all he had done was make me more determined.
I wasn't going to be a pawn in their world.
I was going to be a player.
And if Lord Cedric Vaughn thought he could kill me, he was going to be sorely disappointed.