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"You think we're safe here?" Mattheo asked, drawing the curtains and locking the windows. It wasn't really a question, more like a sarcastic accusation.
"I don't know, but Mother told me to stay here." I bit my tongue.
I stared at the rug picking at the brittle yarn with my bare toes - I liked to do that while I paced. Even with my eyes trained on my toes, I could sense the figure across from me turn.
"So you're a Schmidt? You are Freyja Schmidt's daughter?"
He shrugged off his cloak and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his white shirt so that it fanned open around his collarbone.
I hissed at the tinge of incredulousness in his voice.
"Expecting someone else?" I pursed my lips, attempting to stand a little taller.
"Your mother did mention you were quite ... the fighter."
He strolled towards me in tense, measured steps. I held my breath as his cologne washed over me again, squeezing my eyes shut as he swept down and whispered in my ear,
"I think she's right."
My neck burned where his breath blew, a tingling sensation engulfing me. I forced my eyes to focus on anything else aside from the ravishing young man before me.
"The serpent. What is it?" My voice wavered as I swallowed.
He smirked at my apprehension.
Probably used to girls fleeing for their lives at the mention of his name.
"This?" Mattheo stood back up, his coal black lock brushing against my neck as he did so. His fingers snapped and the silver emblem appeared in his palm. His eyebrows raised into a malicious smirk.
"Family heirloom."
What. Did. I. Say.
"Some kind of family remembrance, like a club certificate?" I squinted, examining the fine silverwork and craftsmanship embroidered well into the emblem. "Welcome! You're a Riddle now!" I mocked with a satire beam. At least my voice was working again.
His expression was still unreadable and pale. Plain and solid, like rocks. Weirdly jagged and freshly polished rocks.
"It's the only thing I have left." He gritted sternly.
I gulped. What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry for your loss, I don't have a Dad either, if that makes you feel better.' I swallowed and sighed, unclenching my fists.
Plus, I wasn't so sure he could exactly relate. How could anyone when the carbon copy of someone I presumed to be dead only a few months ago was standing right in front of me?
