The days dragged on, and I could feel Clocksworth's gaze following me from every corner of the castle. I avoided him, worried about what Anthony might think. 

As it turned out, I didn't have to try too hard—he kept to the shadows. I suspected Anthony had reprimanded him, but I didn't dare ask. The last thing I wanted was to get between them or land myself in unnecessary trouble. The twisted thing was, I missed him. He was the only one I could talk to, really talk to. And yet, he was so terrifying it made my skin crawl. 

 Then, one day, the ever-present eyes vanished. They no longer followed me, and no matter where I looked, I couldn't find him. I checked my phone constantly, but there were no messages, no calls—not even those cryptic texts he used to send that never made any sense. Where the hell was he? 

 When my patience finally ran out, I decided to knock on Lu's door. He sat there with a glass in hand, and it was obviously not wine—the color was too deep, the liquid too thick. 

 "Bel, you really shouldn't be here right now," he muttered, and I let out a heavy sigh in response.

 "Fine. But do you know where Clock is?" 

 Lu glanced up at me, his expression uneasy. "Anthony sent him on a job." 

 "Okay, but he's not answering my texts." 

 "You should probably leave it alone." 

 "Why? I'm just worried something's happened to him." 

 Lu set his glass down on the coffee table and walked over to me with an exaggerated sigh. "He's been alive for hundreds of years, Bel. You don't need to worry about him. If I were you, I'd be more worried about myself." 

 "What do you mean?" 

 "Anthony's quick to get jealous." 

 "Jealous? I don't even know what you're trying to say—" 

 He tilted his head and gave me a sly smile. "Listen. This is important."  I frowned, waiting as Lu returned to the couch and sank into it with a casual grace. "Anthony and Clocksworth have a complicated relationship. Meanwhile, our dear friend Clock can't seem to keep his eyes off you, and that's starting to irritate our master." 

 "But I—" 

 "Shh." He silenced me with a dismissive wave. "It doesn't matter. Our prince is used to getting whatever he wants. If my brother's testing his patience, that's his problem, not ours." 

 "Who even said I was interested?" I snapped, irritation flaring. 

 "Not interested?" Lu chuckled darkly. "I've noticed the way your heartbeat quickens whenever our clockmaker walks into the room." 

 "That doesn't mean it's attraction," I shot back, my tone sharp. "You're vampires, and I'm on the menu. What you're picking up is fear—fear of dying." 

 Lu tilted his head back and drained the last drop from his glass. "If you say so," he said with a smirk, though he didn't look convinced. 

 With a heavy sigh, I dropped down in a chair a short distance away and let my head fall into my hands. "I don't know what Anthony wants from me. Why the hell did he even choose me?"

 "You'll have to ask him yourself." 

 "Right." 

 "But whatever you do, don't mention Clocksworth around him anytime soon. Play it cool, act disinterested, and just focus on your work. Clock will be back soon enough." 

 I glanced at Lu, who was now staring at me intently from the couch. His gaze was fixed on my neck, and I could see the struggle in his expression as he fought to restrain himself. "Okay, thanks... I'll leave you to it," I muttered quickly before slipping out of the room as fast as I could.  

What a goddamn madhouse, I thought as I left to finish my work. 

I dragged my feet, wishing more than anything to be somewhere else, but crates of wine kept disappearing, and I could no longer wait for Clock's help. So, I hauled myself off to the warehouse to take inventory. 

 The air was musty, and the place was far too dark for my liking. After nine months in the castle, I was tired of spending time in the main building but quickly realized the rest of the place wasn't any better. Dirty, dark, and cold, with stacks of crates piled to the ceiling and narrow aisles that could make anyone claustrophobic. I mostly stayed in the library or the study, so I barely interacted with anyone other than the prince and his two closest men. It felt unsettling to be the only human in the entire castle. Wandering around without Lu or Clock didn't make it easier. Even though they could control themselves when they smelled a human, I wasn't sure if the others could. 

 I put my headphones on and cranked the volume up as high as I could, trying to distract myself. It was a boring job, walking up and down the aisles and checking off my long list, but my pulse quickened with every passing minute. I kept glancing over my shoulder to see if someone was behind me, the feeling of being watched following me everywhere. After a few hours, I started to calm down, realizing everyone seemed to be avoiding me. There were workers—drivers, guards, and gardeners—but none of them made any effort to approach me or even look at me. I suspected they were afraid of the consequences. 

 For hours, I wandered through the same musty space, reading lists, counting barrels and crates. The numbers didn't add up. I sighed heavily. Who would be stupid enough to steal from Anthony? The warehouse for wine and olive oil was in a separate building, and I hoped someone had just misplaced the crates. 

 "Excuse me?" I called out to a man in a blue jumpsuit. The startled figure turned abruptly and stared at me. "What's in storage area G?" 

 He gave me a long look before sighing. "Small deliveries. It's a mess in there." 

 "I'm missing some wine crates. Could they have ended up there by mistake?" 

 "Maybe." He made it clear he had no intention of helping, so I trudged toward storage area G and punched in my security code. 

 He wasn't wrong—the crates were haphazardly piled, unmarked, and without seals. It took me the rest of the day to get halfway through the mess. My back ached like hell, and I had missed lunch. Toward the back was a door marked EXIT, and I decided to take a shortcut back to my room. 

I walked down a long corridor lit by only a few lamps. After ten minutes, I reached a door with a sign: West Wing, Unauthorized Access Prohibited. The door slid open without requiring a key or code, and to my surprise, the area was empty. 

Damn, I should've asked Lu to come with me. The place was bigger than I had imagined. I moved slowly through the vast empty room, heading toward the next lit EXIT sign. Despite the emptiness, there was an unsettling atmosphere, and chills ran down my spine. I hurried to the next door. It, too, was unlocked, which made me suspect something was wrong. Nothing could've prepared me for what I saw in the next room. 

I froze in my tracks, instantly wanting to turn around and leave. Fuck, I wanted to run out of the castle and never come back. Inside was the B shipment. A massive cold room with shelves stuffed full of blood-filled bags. My head spun. Where did they get all that blood? Images of people locked away somewhere, being drained of their blood, played in my mind, and I wanted to throw up—a feeling I was getting uncomfortably used to. 

 I decided to trace my steps back. No way was I walking through a room full of human blood. That was my limit. 

 Just as I was about to turn and leave, I heard a painful groan. Images of people with tubes in their arms popped into my head again. I took a few steps back, but at the same time, I couldn't stop myself. I needed to know where the sound came from.

To my right, there was another door, seemingly leading to a smaller room—there was no EXIT sign above it like the others. Slowly, I crept toward the door. I could hear the sound of chains rattling and someone moving inside. The voice, heavy with pain, sounded oddly familiar. I pressed my ear against the door and could hear him panting inside. 

Clocksworth. 

 Placing my palms flat on the door, I tried to push it open with all my strength, but it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, I leaned my shoulder into it, pressing with my whole body, but it was useless. My eyes darted across the shelves stocked with blood bags, searching for some kind of tool. I tried not to touch anything, just scanning with my gaze. The room was freezing, and before long, I was shivering uncontrollably. 

That's when I spotted a set of keys hanging a bit further away. I rushed over and yanked them off the hook. One of these had to work, I thought as panic rose within me. What the hell was he doing locked up, and why did he sound like he was dying? I ran back to the door and tried the first key. It didn't fit. Neither did the second... or the third. For crying out loud, this one's too big! After what felt like an eternity, one of the keys finally slid into the lock, and I turned it. Slowly, I pressed down on the handle, and the door swung open with a crash. 

The sight before me made my stomach churn. Clocksworth was kneeling on the cold concrete floor, his arms hanging limply behind him. His wrists were shackled to the wall with silver chains. The metal had burned through his skin, leaving raw, bloody wounds trailing down his arms. 

 "Fuck," I whispered. What the hell was I supposed to do now? How was I going to get him out of this? Go back and look for tools? Get Lu? My heart was racing, but all I could do was stare at him.

 "Just gonna stand there and stare?" he teased weakly, his usual grin marred by the clear pain etched into his face. 

 I shook my head and dropped to my knees in front of him. Gently, I brushed the hair from his eyes and placed my hands around his neck to give him some support. "What the hell, Tick-Tock..." 

 He glanced up at me, his eyes filled with pain despite the forced smirk on his lips. "It's fine, kid. It's not as bad as it looks." 

 I leaned my forehead against his, shaking my head slowly. "Don't lie to me." Clock didn't answer, but his gaze spoke volumes. He looked scared. I had never seen him like this before, his confidence completely stripped away. "I'm getting you out of here." 

 "No." 

 "Clock..." 

 "No, Bel, you're not getting involved in shit that doesn't concern you!" His voice was weak but firm, and it broke my heart. 

 "Knock it off! I know why you're here," I snapped. "This is my fault!" 

 "No," he sighed softly. "I've got to learn to control myself. I drink too much, overindulge in drugs. I need this. I asked him to lock me up." 

 I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So I'm just supposed to leave? Lock the door and walk away?" 

 "Exactly." 

 "I can't..." I tried to meet his gaze again, but he stared resolutely at the floor. Biting my lip, I released my grip on his neck with a heavy sigh. "I can't keep doing this. I don't care about Gaston or my debts anymore. Being chased by him is better than this fucking life." I wiped the tears from my eyes with my sleeve and slowly got to my feet. 

 "No matter where you run, he'll find you," he said bitterly, a trace of sorrow in his voice. 

 "I'd rather die than be his property," I said, my voice trembling. 

 "You already are."

 "Not entirely." 

 He looked up at me with a defeated expression. "But you will be soon." 

 "Not if you..." I let the words hang in the air, but we both knew what I meant. 

 "Don't go there, Bel. That's against the rules," he muttered tiredly. 

 "There's got to be somewhere to hide. What about the other princes? Hell, we could flee to Greenland." 

 He let out a small laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit, blood speckling his lips. "And why would I want that?" 

 I leaned heavily against the tiled wall. "So you'd rather stay here? Be tortured and watch him do whatever he wants to me?" 

 Clock shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "Bel, you need to leave before someone finds you here." He looked up at me, his eyes full of tears. Drawing in a deep breath, he gave me a wide smile. "It's fine, kid. I'll manage. I'm not going to die. Once the withdrawal passes, I'll heal in no time." 

 "Right..." I turned to leave but paused in the doorway. "Is it worth it?" 

 "What?" 

 "Being immortal. Is it worth all the pain?" 

 "No." 

 I nodded briefly and left the room without looking back. I locked the door behind me and started the walk back to my room. Tears burned behind my eyes, and I prayed I wouldn't run into anyone—I wouldn't be able to hold it together.