I never sleep well in new places, no matter how tired I am. Evermore Manor is no exception. It doesn't matter that the mattress on the massive four-post bed is like laying on a cloud or that the sheets are light and cool. All the dark antique furniture in my room is bulky and casting intimidating shadows in the moonlight. It's like being inside Dracula's lair, with dead bodies and all.

The images from dinner are living rent-free in my head. I can't shake the image of Felix's body on the table. As curious as I am to know what's going on here, I'm equally grateful that Lorelai escorted me to my room. She was patient as I found my pajamas and completed my nightly routine. I was thankful for her constant small talk that kept me distracted until I got ready to crawl into bed.

The second I locked the door behind her, all my fears came to the surface. I checked and double-checked the lock and made sure that there was no way for someone to climb into my open window. Reason told me I was as safe as I could be in the room, but fear never seems to align with rational thought.

Several times throughout the night I've woken up, swearing I heard a random knock or the creaking of floorboards. Every time, I wrenched my eyes open and scanned the darkened room until the tricks my mind was playing on me were grating on my last nerve. I had forced myself not to look anymore, plopping a pillow over my head and squeezing my eyes closed.

But now, I can't keep them shut another second, even though there's nothing else I'd rather do.

You know that weird feeling when you just know someone is watching you? I don't know how we can all sense it, but I do know where I never wanted to have the pleasure—in a dark, locked room inside a creepy ass mansion where a man has just been murdered in cold blood.

But that's what's happening now.

I know someone is watching me. How, I don't have a damn clue, but they are. I have to get out of this room. Now.

I said earlier rational thought and fear seldom align. That's definitely true in this moment because before I can talk myself out of it, I am flinging the covers off my body, hopping out of the bed, snatching my silk robe off the hook by the door, and bolting out into the hallway.

What are the odds the person who may or may not have been in my room is the person that slit Felix Evermore's throat?

What are the odds the owner of the fucking house would be killed at the opening dinner?

Pretty fucking low, so I'm thinking the odds of that being the killer? Astronomically high.

Sprinting down the hall at full speed, my bare feet slapping against the wood floor, I swear I hear a door click shut and footsteps behind me.

"Fuck no, not today," I pant, thundering down the grand staircase with no regard for who I might wake up. Let me wake up this entire house; if that's a murderer behind me, someone needs to catch them, and it is not going to be me.

If the maybe-probably killer knew how to murder Felix Evermore in his own home and knew how to get into my locked room, chances are they know the house pretty well. But do they know the grounds?

Maybe not. That's a strong enough argument for me in this moment. Lorelai explained that it will be a minute until someone can reach us on the island, and to make matters worse, my phone has piss-poor signal in the middle of nowhere. I'm trapped here and no one I love knows what is going on. I'll be damned if I die without ever hearing my parents' voices again.

Bypassing the main entrance, I skid around the corner to the hallway on the other side of the dining room. I'd spied it earlier on my way in, when I was looking for a quick escape after I'd realized my wardrobe faux pas.

Apollo's lyre, that was just a few hours ago?

I breathe a sigh of relief as a heavy door comes into view. Flinging it open, I bolt out of the house. My feet slide under me as they pound against the grass, damp with dew. My chest burns and my eyes water from the pain. My movements grow sluggish, and I hunch over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath. I wheeze as I struggle to pull air into my lungs.

Fuck. I left my inhaler in my room.

I consider going back, that is until a door slams in the direction I just came from. My legs tremble beneath me as I run past two stone gargoyles keeping watch on either side of an iron fence. They are odd lawn ornaments, until I realize I'm not running across the backyard of the manor, but through a graveyard. Weathered gravestones protrude from the ground while mausoleums that look like ancient Roman architecture are scattered throughout.

Needing to regulate my breathing, I hide behind an oak tree with the thickest trunk I've ever seen. I fight to suck air into my lungs, my cheeks heating from the strain. The sound coming from me is like a blowhorn—loud and obnoxious. But it doesn't drown out the snapping of twigs under steady footsteps.

I groan in pain as I will my body to move. My run is no better than a power walk as I battle to put distance between me and my stalker. Turning at the corner of a mausoleum, I look behind me. Nothing but the silhouettes of tall, gnarled trees loom behind me. It's a blessing and then it is a curse.

I collide with a hard body, and arms wrap around my shuddering form. I try to scream for help, but my voice is nothing but a weak whimper. As if I have claws, I sink my nails into my captor's chest, thrashing against his hold.

This is it... the moment I die at the hands of some sick fuck. Maybe he won't slide his knife across my throat. Maybe he will watch as my body works against me, and slowly suffocates me to death.

"Cordelia. Cordelia, look at me."

My eyes widen as I recognize the low timbre of a voice I only heard for the first time tonight.

"Elias?" I say, choking on the word.

"Yes," he says, stepping back but keeping his hands on my shoulders. "Are you all right? Why are you breathing like that?"

"I—I have asthma." Just those words are a struggle to get out and it takes me a moment to speak again. "I left—"

"Your inhaler?" he asks, his dark eyes widened in alarm.

I just nod weakly, too exhausted to answer.

"Why would you be running in the middle of the night, in your..." He glances down at my satin pajamas that even with the robe leave little to the imagination.

I figured if the purpose of this trip was to make a love match, I might as well have sexy things to wear at night. Just like my witch costume, I'm regretting my choice.

"Someone. Chasing. Me."

Elias scans our surroundings before giving his attention to me again. He takes in my bare feet and releases a sigh. Without any warning, he lifts me into his arms as if I'm a rag doll.

"Relax and focus on your breathing," he demands as he carries me back the way I came.

I want to ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing, but I know I need to do as he says. But in order for the breathing exercise to work, I need to be sitting up as straight as possible. I tap Elias on the shoulder and rasp, "I need...to sit up straight for this to work. Can you—"

I don't even need to finish the question. He's shifting me in his arms within seconds, holding me under my ass. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, and I clasp my hands behind his neck for support. I try not to think about the fact that my crotch is pressed right against his abdomen. I definitely try not to think about the fact that I'm not wearing any underwear beneath these satin pajama shorts. But Elias doesn't so much as squirm away from me; he simply holds eye contact and says, "Okay, now breathe, Cordelia."

And he says it as though he really gives a fuck. How odd. Why would this man who just met me a few hours ago—who didn't even seem to like me that much to begin with—care enough about my well-being to carry me out of a graveyard in the middle of the night?

But I just breathe in through my nose as deeply as I can and release it out through my mouth, hoping to Aphrodite that I hadn't been asleep long enough to have bad breath. Obviously not the time to be thinking about that, but whatever. I'm only human.

I repeat the exercise several times until I finally feel my breathing begin to slow. It isn't back to normal, but I don't feel like I'm dying anymore. Closing my eyes, I drop my chin down to my chest and rest for a moment.

The next thing I know, my inhaler is pressed to my lips. I breathe in the medication, thankful for the immediate relief. Falling back on the pillows, I watch as Elias fetches me a glass of water from the in-suite bathroom and sets it on my bedside table. He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and stares down at me.

I can't help but think about how perfect he is. No man has the right to look so good in the middle of the night. Even the way the sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled up his forearms is hot. I pull my robe around me tighter, feeling a little self-conscious in my skimpy attire.

"No matter what happens, don't leave your room in the middle of the night. And especially don't go outside," he says in a stern voice that shouldn't have me melting on the inside the way I am.

"But—"

"No, there's no 'but.' Do not go outside alone."

My eyebrows furrow and I sit up straighter, pushing myself up on my elbows. "Elias, listen to me. There was someone in my room. What was I supposed to do?"

"You witnessed something traumatic tonight. It isn't odd that your mind would play tricks on you. I guarantee you that you are in more danger at night in the open than you are in this room. But if you find yourself scared again, my room is the one at the end of this hall, or Lorelai's is the one to the right of mine. Find us before you decide to run a marathon in the middle of the night."

"Fair enough," I grumble, flinging myself backward onto the mattress, admittedly with a bit of dramatic flair. "But you're awfully bold, don't you think?"

He quirks a dark eyebrow at me. "How do you mean?"

I scoff and cock my head to the side, dropping my shoulders as if to say really? "Coming in here to tell me what I can and cannot do in the middle of the night. I mean, granted, you did save me from having a catastrophic asthma attack, but now you're bossing me around."

He chuckles and nods as he turns on his heels. "Just remember that I saved your life, Cordelia."

With that said, he flips the light switch on the wall and leaves me to face the dark alone again.