Page 20 of Wolfsbane Hall #1

The air between them shifted, and Margot started their scene. “ We have to stop hiding this, Everett. I want to be out there with you.”

“I know, my love, and we will have our day in the light, but it cannot be today. My parents aren’t ready…” Everett trailed off as if in thought.

“ Ready to accept a French maid as your wife?”

“ Wife. ” He smiled and ran his thumb along her jaw lovingly. “I like the way that sounds. You’re my wife.” He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I will tell them soon.”

Heat spread through Margot, painting her chest crimson as she pulled her engagement ring from under her bodice. It was looped on a ribbon, because Margot was too poor to afford a gold necklace chain. “We can’t keep this secret much longer.”

“My love, I promise I will tell them soon. But I must go now; they’re waiting for me.” Everett quickly kissed her lips before rushing out of the broom closet.

The scene ended, and Margot released her hold, going dormant in the back reaches of their mind, letting Celestine glide back into control.

Celestine shivered everywhere, and the hairs at the nape of her neck rose. Covering her face with her hands, she sucked in a breath. What the fuck did she just let happen? A ghost possessed her body and nearly fucked one of her closest friends.

Celestine was too susceptible to temptations, too weak to wrench control from the spirit clawing at the back of her mind.

Shit. I almost fucked Everett, and I definitely saw his penis. What does that mean for our friendship? Dammit, Celine. Get yourself together.

All of this was rotten, and she didn’t know how to handle any of it. Or even what to expect. Nothing was familiar, and it felt like she had a thousand tiny cuts that would eventually bleed her dry.

At least one positive thing came of that interaction—besides finally seeing how good a kisser Everett was. She had also gained more insight into her character.

Margot was a French maid, engaged to Everett, and it was a real memory . It had to be, given Everett’s response and the fact that the thing currently slumbering in the back of her mind was very much fucking real.

Something terrible had happened between Margot and Everett, and Celestine was certain it would play out through the show tonight. Her heart wanted to weep for Everett. One didn’t feel that much love and connection just to squander it.

So what happened?

Rich men’s promises were like fairy dust. Beautiful, but not real. Not tangible. Nothing to build a life or a future on. But Everett seemed like he would burn the world down for Margot. Except if that were true, why hadn’t he told his mother about them?

Celestine bit her lip and smoothed down her hair, trying to compose herself and get her appearance back in order. She was quick about it, because she was quite accomplished at returning to parties after a secret rendezvous.

Her eyes caught on her shredded underwear, and Celestine rubbed her face. Fucking wonderful. She kicked them under the shelves. She would be called worse than whore if someone found those.

The door squeaked as it opened, and she crept into the hallway, slowly and quietly clicking the door shut again.

“I would never keep you a secret, Marguerite.” Celestine reeled around to find Dean leaning against the wall, dark authority oozing from him. His arms were crossed, and he looked like an avenging god. “If I had you, I would let everyone know.”

Celestine’s insides tingled until she realized that this, too, was an act. He was speaking to Margot, not her.

The twins both loved the same girl. Well fuck . This was an interesting development. Was that what happened to Margot? The brothers fought over her?

Was that how it ended tragically?

“I wouldn’t keep you a secret either, Celestine.”

Her brows scrunched. Dean couldn’t mean that. He was a creature of dark temptations and wicked games. There was no reason to be into Celestine for anything other than mental turmoil. Right?

Celestine didn’t know how to make sense of this new world or what was even real. All of it? Everett’s actions were based on her character, but would Dean’s be too?

“We should get back to the party,” Dean said when she still didn’t come up with anything comprehensible to respond with. “We don’t want to miss any of the excitement.”

“Are all these scenes from your past?” The question fell from her lips.

It was coming together. If the murder mystery party would help solve the identity of the Specter, and tonight’s play was all about revenge, then everything was about them and not Celestine. The play was a moment from the Ashbrooks’ past. A moment centered around a French maid and forbidden love.

Was that how the Specter was formed?

Dean’s response was simple. “Yes.”

He pushed off the wall and turned his back to her.

Celestine nearly fell over herself to catch up with him. “And Margot…Marguerite, that’s what you called her, right? She was real?” And a possessive ghost inside my head.

Yes. Margot answered the unsaid question .

Truly? Celestine asked.

Yes.

Not fucking terrifying at all.

“Yes, Marguerite was real.” Dean tapped his fingers together, both distracted and dismissive at the same time.

“And you were both in love with her?”

“Yes.”

Celestine swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“It must have been horrible loving her and not being able to have her.” Celestine wrung her hands. “My sister was ten years older than me when she died, but I can imagine if she were around and we loved the same man, it would feel dreadful.”

Dean swallowed, his eyes swirling with azure fire, but he said nothing else, back to his usual ways.

Celestine fiddled awkwardly, wringing her hands again. She never knew what to do around him. “What happened to Margot?”

Dean let out a low growl. “I’m sure you’ll find out tonight. I can’t imagine the Phantom wouldn’t make it a part of his sick play.”