Shadows at Everthorn
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Christian Marquis stood in the grand hall of Everthorn Manor, the flickering light of the chandelier casting elongated shadows across the marble floor. He leaned against the edge of the antique desk, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his piercing blue eyes betrayed his ever-watchful nature. The room was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the occasional rustle of paper as Christian flipped through a ledger.

Then, it came—a subtle shift in the air, as if the shadows themselves had inhaled. Christian straightened immediately, his senses sharpened. A chill crawled up his spine, though he masked it well. He set the ledger down with deliberate precision, his fingers lingering on its worn edges.

The shadows in the room seemed to ripple, pooling unnaturally in the corners and along the edges of the walls. Christian didn’t need to turn to know who it was. He’d felt this signature before—a faint pull at the edges of his awareness, like the tendrils of an unwelcome memory resurfacing.

“Julian,” Christian muttered under his breath, his tone laced with equal parts annoyance and expectation.

Almost on cue, the room dimmed slightly, as though the very presence of light were reluctant to remain. From the deepest shadows near the archway, a figure emerged, his movements fluid and unhurried. Julian Thorne stepped into view, his sharp features illuminated briefly by the firelight, his dark eyes gleaming with faint amusement.

“Christian,” Julian greeted, his voice smooth and rich, carrying that ever-present air of nonchalance. “It’s been too long.”

Christian’s jaw tightened as he folded his arms across his chest. “Not long enough.”

Julian smirked, taking a few more steps into the room. He was dressed impeccably, as always, a long dark coat brushing the floor as he moved. The firelight caught the faint sheen of the silver clasp at his collar, a subtle nod to his sharp sense of style.

“Still on edge, I see,” Julian remarked, his gaze flickering briefly to the shadows gathering near Christian’s feet. “Your paranoia might give you wrinkles, cousin.”

Christian didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he stood tall, his posture commanding. “What are you doing here, Julian? You’ve made it clear you prefer to keep your distance.”

Julian shrugged, a faint glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Perhaps I thought it time to check on the family. Or perhaps,” he added, his voice dropping an octave, “I just wanted to see if you’ve finally grown comfortable sharing the shadows with me.”

Christian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. “I don’t share.”

Julian’s smirk widened. “So I’ve heard.”

The tension between them was palpable, an invisible line drawn in the space that separated them. The shadows around Julian swirled faintly, as though alive, while Christian stood like an immovable force, his gaze locked on his cousin.

Dorian’s voice echoed suddenly from the hallway, breaking the charged silence. “Oh, great. You two are at it already.”

The youngest Marquis sibling appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, as though he’d just stepped off a midnight ride with Balios. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Can’t we go one evening without the ominous brooding?”

Christian glanced at Dorian, his sharp features softening slightly, but his tone remained firm. “Julian’s presence is cause enough.”

Dorian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sure it is. But maybe, just maybe, you could try not to look like you’re plotting his demise.”

Julian chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the dynamic. “Ah, Dorian. Always the peacemaker.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter me, Julian. It’s not you I’m trying to save—it’s Christian from himself.”

Julian’s gaze flicked back to Christian, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Careful, cousin. It seems your siblings are starting to notice.”

Christian’s shoulders stiffened, but he said nothing, the flickering firelight casting his stoic silhouette in sharp relief. As the Marquis brothers exchanged a tense glance, the shadows continued their silent dance, a foreboding reminder of the rivalry that simmered just beneath the surface.

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