Night swallowed the countryside outside Goldlake Town.
Rhine hovered just beyond Catherine Byrne’s cabin, half a step inside the Shadow Realm. In this crooked black-and-white world, the lamplight behind the window looked bruised and distant, like it didn’t belong to anything living.
Tyler’s voice was low, strained. “Are you sure?”
Catherine didn’t answer right away. When she did, it sounded like it scraped on the way out.
“It’s gone.”
A sharp inhale.
“It was three months, Cath.”
“I know what it was.” Her control cracked at the edges. “I felt it. Every day. And then… I didn’t.”
Silence spilled across the room.
Tyler tried to steady her. “We can try again. Lily’s young. She’ll recover.”
Catherine gave a laugh that held no humor. “Recover? She’s been crying herself sick for days.”
“She shouldn’t blame herself.”
“She does anyway.” Catherine’s tone turned cold. “And she’s hiding it from Danny.”
Tyler’s chair creaked. “Danny still thinks she’s pregnant.”
“Because if he finds out, he’ll march straight to Moros Manor and get himself killed.”
Tyler swore under his breath. “That bastard.”
Catherine’s voice went flat. “I want him dead.”
She didn’t say Borg Moros’s name, but the air inside the cabin tightened around it.
A knock rattled the front door.
“Mrs. Byrne?” A man called. “Sheriff Carson.”
Rhine drifted closer, the shadows swallowing what little of him existed in the real world.
Tyler opened the door. Lanternlight spilled across the porch, revealing Carson’s windburned face and tired eyes.
“Sorry to come by this late,” the sheriff said. “We’ve got… movement.”
Catherine stepped into view. “Where?”
“Bramble Street.” Carson lowered his voice. “Seventy-one.”
Rhine’s fingers tightened around his cane.
Tyler frowned. “That place is empty.”
“It wasn’t tonight.” Carson’s gaze flicked into the cabin, then back. “We’re sweeping it now.”
Catherine’s throat worked. “And Danny?”
Carson’s expression tightened, as if he hated the words. “He… took his own life last night.”
Catherine went pale. Tyler cursed under his breath.
“There’s more,” Carson continued. “Nia’s missing.”
Catherine’s eyes sharpened. “Nia would never run.”
“I know.” Carson rubbed his jaw. “If you remember anything—anyone she talked to—”
“I remember who owns this town,” Catherine said, voice hard.
Carson didn’t argue. He just nodded once, turned, and disappeared into the dark.
When the door shut, the cabin went quiet again. Tyler said something Rhine couldn’t catch. Catherine didn’t answer.
Rhine backed away into the warped treeline.
‘Moros noticed. Now he’s clearing the board.’
The pieces were moving faster.
Rhine didn’t waste time.
Fully armed—Flint snug against his ribs, Dragonblood Dagger strapped beneath his coat—he made for Moros Manor and slipped into the Shadow Realm before the outer fence came into view.
The estate rose over the wetlands like a clenched fist.
In the real world, the iron gates were shut and wrapped in dead vines. In the Shadow Realm, they looked like a black ribcage.
Rhine passed through.
A carriage lay overturned in the courtyard, one wheel shattered. A horse sagged in its traces, throat cut clean. Something wet glimmered on the stone. Not rain.
Blood.
Rhine kept moving, slow and soundless.
He saw her.
A girl—sixteen, maybe seventeen—stumbled out from a side door. She wore a black maid’s dress, torn at the hem. Barefoot. Hair loose and stuck to her cheeks with sweat.
She ran, not toward the road but for the trees, like she didn’t care where she ended up as long as she got away.
Rhine stepped out from behind an oak.
The girl froze.
Her eyes went huge.
She screamed.
Rhine raised one hand, palm open. “Hey. Quiet. I’m not here for you.”
She stared at Flint on his belt like it was a death sentence. “Please… don’t send me back. I’ll do anything. I swear—”
“I’m getting you out,” Rhine said. “But you have to listen.”
He pulled her into the Shadow Realm with him.
Color drained from the world. The girl gasped, the scream dying in her throat as she stared at the warped black-and-white woods.
Rhine pressed a finger to his lips.
Footsteps crunched past on the path—three guards, lanterns bobbing, voices muffled.
They passed within a few yards and never saw them.
When the patrol was gone, the girl slumped, shaking so hard her teeth clicked.
Rhine guided her deeper into the treeline until the manor was just a looming black shape behind them.
“Name,” he said.
“H… Hilda.” She wiped at her face like she could scrub away the last hour. “I’m a servant. House Moros.”
Rhine studied her. That kind of fear didn’t come from a lie.
“And you?” Hilda asked, voice cracking. “How did you do that? Are you… a supernatural? Are you with the Earthring?”
“I’m Rhine,” he said.
Her mouth fell open. “Rhine? The hero from Windrest City?”
Rhine didn’t indulge it. “Nia. Where is she?”
Hilda flinched. “Nia… she’s still inside. They caught her. They caught all of them.”
“All of who?” Rhine asked.
Hilda’s gaze flicked back toward the manor like it might hear her.
Rhine took one step closer, voice low. “I didn’t drag you out here to play games. Tell me.”
Hilda swallowed hard.
Rhine held her eyes. “What did Borg Moros do to you girls?”