CHAPTER 74
The mist beneath her feet didn't give way as Isabella descended, the wind tore at her, savage and cold.
She wore nothing but Lucian's oversized black silk shirt, the fabric snapping violently against her thighs.
Every gust threatened to sweep her off the narrow, ethereal bridge, yet she remained impossibly steady.
It was as if the smoke itself was reaching up to wrap around her ankles, holding her to the path.
Down she went, leaving the window of her prison behind. The higher she had been, the more the creature looked like a monster; the closer she got, the more it felt like a mirror.
When her bare feet finally touched the damp grass of the lawn, a soft exhale of vapor escaped the staircase, and it began to dissolve into the night air behind her.
Isabella stood still, shivering—not from the cold, but from the proximity. The creature loomed just yards away.
