Chapter 37

Hannah

Dinner was every bit as awkward and tension-filled as I had anticipated—and then some.

Zoe sat across from me, her posture rigid and her gaze fixed resolutely on her plate as she nibbled at her food in silence. It was clear from the tight purse of her lips and the furrow in her brow that she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Why had she even accepted Drake’s invitation, I thought to myself? She could have said no.

But then again, so could we.

On my left, Noah nursed a glass of whiskey, his free hand toying with the silverware in a way that made the metal clink sharply against the china every few minutes. His eyes kept flicking from me to Drake with thinly-veiled disdain, as though he couldn’t quite decide which one of us he despised more in that moment.

And Drake... Drake simply smiled that easy, charming smile of his, seemingly unbothered by the blistering awkwardness that hung thick in the air around us. He made idle small talk, commenting on the exceptional wine selection and quality of the restaurant’s interior design.

I could barely bring myself to eat, my stomach tied up in anxious knots. Every time I lifted my fork to my mouth, I felt the weight of Noah’s stare boring into me, silently judging and assessing my every move. It made me want to shrink into myself, to disappear from view entirely.

“So,” Drake said, cutting his steak as he spoke. “Noah… I must say, I’m very grateful that you and Hannah accepted Zoe back into Nightcrest so willingly; it’s nice to see her in a safe, familiar place during our little break.”

Zoe snorted softly into her glass of wine. I froze, glancing over at Noah.

“Break?” Noah asked. “From what I gathered, you’re divorcing. Not simply taking a break.”

“Yes, well…” Drake popped a piece of steak into his mouth, chewed slowly and swallowed before continuing. “Love endures.” He flicked his gaze between me and Noah, clearly implying something that I didn’t want to delve into at the moment.

Love, I thought to myself as I glanced over at Zoe. She didn’t seem like a woman in love. She seemed like she didn’t want to be here. Same as myself.

Noah stared down into his glass, but didn’t bother arguing further. We lapsed back into strained silence after that, broken only by the soft clink of silverware on china and the low hum of classical music in the background.

It was torture, pure and simple. I wished more than anything that I could simply disappear, or wake up from this hellish nightmare of an evening.

Anything to escape the simmering hostility and Zoe’s penetrating stare that seemed to bore straight through me every time our eyes met. Did she know about my arrangement with Drake?

Finally, just when I thought I might snap from the tension, Drake set his napkin aside with a decisive flourish and sat back in his chair.

“Well, this has certainly been a delightful little dinner party,” he announced in a tone that suggested the exact opposite. “But I don’t know about the rest of you... I was rather hoping we might do a bit more than simply eat this evening.”

I frowned, sharing a confused look with Noah. “What did you have in mind?” I asked.

A slow smile curved Drake’s lips as his gaze swept over to me. “If memory serves from our tour the other day, Hannah, Nightcrest is in possession of a rather famous haunted attraction, isn’t it? What was it called again? The Emily House?”

My brows hiked upward as realization dawned on me; the Emily House was an attraction in Nightcrest seated at the top of a tall hill; an old mansion that was said to have been haunted by a spirit named Emily. Supposedly, a family had stayed there in the 80s and were terrorized by Emily until they ultimately just upped and left in the night, leaving all of their belongings behind.

Now, it was nothing more than a tourist attraction. During the daytime, visitors could tour the home and hear about all of the spooky history behind it. On Friday nights, however, the place was turned into a real haunted house attraction—actors in masks and flickering lights to boot.

It was an attraction for edgy teenagers, nothing more.

“You can’t be serious,” I managed with a laugh.

“Oh, but I am,” Drake said, leaning forward on his elbows. “It sounds exciting, and besides, you know what they say about a good scare—it gets the blood positively pumping.” At that last word, he slid his gaze over to Zoe. Her cheeks reddened and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

A beat of silence passed as we all traded uncertain looks, clearly thrown by this curveball of a proposition.

“I don’t know, Drake…” I began hesitantly. “I’m tired, and I’m sure Noah…”

“Well, it sounds terribly exciting to me,” Zoe interjected, speaking up for the first time all evening as she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “I haven’t visited the Emily house since… well…”

Her voice trailed off, and beside me, I noticed the tips of Noah’s ears turn pink. I quickly looked away, clenching my jaw. I could already imagine the two of them going on all kinds of dates when they were together, and the Emily House had likely been one of their favorite haunts… no pun intended.

Drake’s face lit up like a kid on Solstice morning at Zoe’s words, and he quickly looked over at Noah. “Well? What do you say, Alpha? Shall we give it a go?”

For a long moment, Noah simply stared at Drake, his expression utterly unreadable. Then, with a barely perceptible shake of his head, his features settled into a mask of grim resignation.

“I don’t see that we have much choice,” he ground out. “Not if we want to impress our esteemed guest, that is.”

Drake beamed, clapping his hands together once. “Splendid! Then it’s settled—we’ll take in your haunted house after we’ve settled the check here. And don’t worry, dinner is on me.”

…

I found myself inching cautiously through the dark, strobe-lit corridors of Nightcrest’s haunted house, trailing behind the others with my arms wrapped protectively around my middle.

Somewhere ahead of me, a shrill scream rang out, quickly swallowed up by the eerie sounds of chains rattling and ominous groans. My heart leapt into my throat as my head whipped around, searching the shadowy recesses for any sign of danger.

This had seemed like such a stupid idea from the start—why had I let Drake talk me into this insanity? I was too old and jaded for these childish fear tactics to work on me anymore.

And yet, as the sound of heavy, thudding footsteps began resonating from somewhere behind me, I could feel my pulse quickening in spite of myself.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, a hulking, masked figure burst through a doorway off to my right, harsh spotlights illuminating the whirring blade of a chainsaw as it roared to life mere feet away from me.

I must have screamed, because the next thing I knew, I was stumbling backward, gasping for air as my heart thundered in my ears. My hands clutched uselessly at the humid air, searching for anything solid to anchor myself.

But I found nothing—nothing except the disorienting blur of strobe lights and the stomp of heavy boots drawing nearer and nearer.

“Noah!” I cried out before I could stop myself, the name tearing out of my lips in desperation.

Just as quickly as the terror had overtaken me, it dissipated again. Strong arms encircled me from behind, dragging me flush against a solid chest as a masculine scent overwhelmed my senses.

I whimpered, the sound high and pitiful as tears sprang to my eyes. “Noah…”

“Shh…” a low, soothing murmur breathed against the curve of my neck. “You’re safe now, darling. I’ve got you.”

My eyes shot open. It was Drake’s voice, not Noah’s, that met my ears. For the briefest of moments, I froze, confusion swirling through me.

Then, just as quickly, a commanding shout sliced through the darkness from somewhere in the distance, making my head whip around.

“Stop the show! Now!”

Noah's voice, gruff and authoritative, rang out mere seconds before the house’s lighting transitioned from ominous reds and purples to the warm, amber glow of overhead lights and standing lamps. I squinted against the sudden light, blinking as I pulled back from Drake.

And there, across the room, I could just make out Noah’s tall silhouette as his arm curled around another figure—one that seemed to be cowering against his side.

Zoe.