I pulled her close, enveloping her in my arms. “If you feel unsafe, I will take you somewhere else where you feel protected,” I said, a vow etched in the very marrow of my bones. “Anywhere you need to be, we’ll go together.”
Her eyes searched mine, seeking the truth behind my promise. In them, I saw the reflection of our shared resolve, fragile but unbroken.
Olivia’s fingers clung to mine with a fervor that spoke volumes, her grasp seeking the anchor of my presence. The room, awash in the pale moonlight filtering through the window, felt too vast, as if it could swallow us whole with its shadows and secrets. She sat on the edge of the bed, the tension in her shoulders betraying her unease.
“When you were gone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “you were away for over a month. What took so long?”
The weight of untold stories pressed against my chest.
“Everything went well at first,” I said. “We met Osman, who we brought back with us. Raul took away his betrothed. But then... Balthazar and Raul showed up.” I hesitated. My next words would shake the already fragile ground beneath us. “Raul... he told us his life story—about how he met and loved your mother. And that they had a child together.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening in disbelief as if she had just seen a ghost.
“What? That’s impossible,” she stammered, her voice trembling with shock and confusion. “In her journal, she never mentioned having a child with Raul. Instead, she wrote of being chained and tortured by him.”
Olivia’s voice cracked, the image she held of her mother splintering before us.
“Raul painted a different picture,” I said, trying to ease the blow. “He spoke of how he lost his son, and Alina... she gave him another son. Then he condemned his own son to an agonizing death, using him as a test subject for his cruel experiment.
Olivia shook her head, her breaths ragged and quick as she tried to process the information.
“That’s insane,” she said, her voice trembling. “In my mother’s journal, she never mentioned anything like this. She only wrote about the horrors of being held captive by Raul, his cruel experiments on her, and her daring escape after a year. Someone must be lying. Is it Raul? My mother?”
I touched her arm, feeling the tremble beneath her skin. Truth seemed as elusive as the shifting shadows of the flickering candle on the nightstand.
The weight of the revelations pressed heavily upon us, and the room felt far too small for the enormity of our troubles.
“There is much to unravel,” I said, “but I want to get Marcellious back and find the dagger.”
She grasped my hand, her grip both delicate and desperate.
I smiled. “And I will always keep you safe and protect you. I love you so much, Olivia, and together we will conquer this.”
Together, we extinguished the candle’s flame, its light flickering and dancing before finally surrendering to the darkness of the night. I pulled Olivia close, wrapping my arms around her in a protective embrace. The cool air of the room enveloped us, but warmth radiated from our entwined bodies as we held each other tightly. The silence of the estate mocked us, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within.
With Olivia’s steady breathing beside me, I closed my eyes, willing sleep to take me. But rest proved elusive; my mind was a battlefield, replaying every word, every lie, every half-truth that had been uncovered. The house, once a sanctuary, now felt like a lair where monsters roamed with human faces, their intentions as obscured as the shadows that danced across the walls.
As I finally drifted into a restless slumber, the thought haunted me—the notion that what lurked beneath the surface of those around us could be more terrifying than any creature of the night.
CHAPTER FIVE
OLIVIA
It had been a week since my mother returned, and the atmosphere in the house was thick with a tension that clung to my skin. I stayed close to Emily, helping her with baby Leo and his innocent coos, which starkly contrasted with the chaos unfurling around us. Avoiding my mother became a silent routine; we orbited each other, careful not to collide.
Lee and Mathias were relentless in their search for Marcellious, their determination as doggedly persistent as the fear that kept me awake at night. Their quest for the dagger consumed Osman, Malik, and Roman.
Roman would return home each night, his eyes heavy with burdens he tried to shield me from. Silently, he would slip into bed with me, his warm body pressing against mine as we intertwined in the language of touch. Our lovemaking was slow and deliberate, each movement filled with a raw passion that could only be conveyed through our bodies. Roman fought to stay awake despite his fatigue as we explored each other’s desires. As we finally reached the peak of our pleasure, he would collapse beside me, his chest rising and falling rapidly in pure exhaustion and satisfaction. Every moment spent in this intimate embrace reminded us of our undying love for one another.
Amidst the turmoil, thoughts of Balthazar haunted me. The dungeon where he languished felt like a gaping mouth beckoning with forbidden knowledge. Questions gnawed at me, like who my mother and Mathias were and the nature of Malik and Mathias’ relationship. Would Balthazar tell me the truth about my mother in his Belladonna delirium? I found my resolve hardening like forged steel. Tonight, I decided I would have answers.
Mathias kept the keys hidden inside a book of ancient lore on the third shelf of the study. Their weight was reassuring in my palm as I slid them into the pocket of my cloak. Taking them felt like plunging into icy waters—a shock to my system but strangely invigorating.
With quiet steps, I slipped through shadow-draped hallways, the keys a silent promise against my thigh. My heart thrummed a nervous rhythm, yet the pull toward the dungeon was undeniable, a magnetic force that drew me toward the truth I sought from the man who could upend everything I believed.
That night, the manor was steeped in silence as if holding its breath, bracing for the secrets buried within its stone walls. The luxurious chambers where Alina had ensconced herself were far removed from the rest of us. Her laughter and the clinking of fine glassware barely permeated the thick tapestries as she indulged in her newfound opulence.
Emily’s gentle lullabies to baby Leo drifted through the corridors, accompanied by Rosie’s soft giggles starkly contrasting the turmoil within me.
