The birds were already awake, flitting between the skeletal trees, their delicate wings beating against the cold. You reached into your pocket, your fingers stiff from the chill as you scattered seeds onto the ground. The deer, hesitant at first, emerged from the thicket, their warm brown eyes wary yet trusting. They had grown used to your presence, recognizing you as the woman who visited them when the castle became too much to bear.

A cold wind swept through the garden, biting at your exposed skin. You shivered violently, wrapping your arms around yourself. You should have worn a cloak, or at least a thicker dress, but in your haste to escape the suffocating silence of your chambers, you had forgotten. Again.

“Foolish.”

The deep voice startled you, sending the deer skittering back into the trees. You turned swiftly, your heart stammering in your chest.

Ghost stood at the garden’s edge, dressed in his usual dark attire, his piercing gaze locked onto you. Snowflakes had settled onto his shoulders, the slight wind tousling his short-cropped hair.

“You’ll catch your death out here.” His voice was steady, lacking reproach, but there was a faint flicker of something in his tone—something you couldn't quite place.

You lowered your eyes, watching as your breath curled in the space between you. “I didn’t realize how cold it was,” you admitted, though you knew he wouldn’t believe you.

Ghost sighed, shaking his head before shrugging off his heavy cloak. In one swift motion, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of his body lingering in the fabric. It smelled like him—smoky, crisp, and something inherently him.

For a brief moment, his hands rested on your shoulders, his touch surprisingly gentle. Then, just as quickly, he withdrew, retreating a step as if the closeness had been an accident.

“Come inside,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost softer. “I’ll have the servants bring food for the deer later.”