Chapter 5

Sylvia’s breath still shook, but she forced her legs to steady. The bark scraped her palms as she pushed away from the tree and took a single step forward.

Lavinia stiffened. She didn’t retreat, but her shoulders locked like someone bracing for a blow.

“Don’t,” she warned, voice low.

Sylvia ignored her. Another step. The air between them was sharp, hot with the memory of Lavinia’s hand on her throat.

“I said don’t,” Lavinia hissed again, but her tone was thinner now, fraying at the edges.

Sylvia stopped just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from her, close enough that one more reckless movement would put her within reach again. Her heart pounded, but she lifted her chin.

“You want me afraid,” Sylvia said quietly. “But I’m not.”

For the first time, Lavinia’s breath hitched. Her glowing eyes faltered, dimmed just enough to betray a crack. She turned her face away, jaw tight, like even meeting Sylvia’s gaze was dangerous.

“You don’t understand what that costs,” she muttered.

“Maybe not,” Sylvia admitted, her voice trembling but sure. “But I understand you didn’t let me go because you couldn’t.”

The silence that followed was taut as a wire. Somewhere in the forest, a branch snapped — the ordinary sound of night, but both of them remained locked in place, listening to each other’s unspoken words instead.

Finally, Lavinia exhaled, sharp and unsteady. “You’re going to regret this,” she whispered, but it sounded more like a plea than a threat.

And still, Sylvia didn’t move back.