LOVE BEYOND REALMS

TRAPPED

Chapter 17

Alexa woke at dawn, her eyes heavy but her mind unyielding. She had not truly rested. Even when her body had surrendered to exhaustion, her dreams had been fragmented, haunted by silver hair glimmering in the dark, and a voice that reverberated like crashing water against stone. His words, his presence, had chased her deep into sleep and had followed her back into waking.

But as the pale light of morning crept through her curtains, she sat upright and pressed her palms to her temples. “No,” she whispered to herself. “It was only a dream.”

She repeated the words like a mantra, trying to beat them into her own mind. Dreams were strange, sometimes vivid, sometimes terrifying, but dreams nonetheless. And that was what it had been — nothing more.

She would not let herself believe otherwise.

Alexa slid from her bed and crossed to the vanity. Her reflection startled her: dark circles beneath her eyes, skin pale, lips pressed tight as though she had aged overnight. For a long while she stared at herself, as though searching for evidence of something — some trace of the encounter that felt too real to ignore. But she found nothing. Just her own tired face, her own weary eyes.

“It wasn’t real,” she said again, this time with more force. “It was only a dream.”

She drew in a deep breath. She needed to stop wallowing, stop suffocating inside these walls. Her father could chain her in this mansion all he wished, but she had to reclaim at least a fragment of herself. That meant going back to class, facing the stares, facing Mirabel’s poisonous whispers — anything was better than sitting here, waiting like a lamb for s*******r.

Today, she would go to college. Whether Brooks Anderson approved or not.

The thought startled her with its boldness. She would be defying her father again. But never before had the walls of the mansion felt so much like a coffin closing around her.

Alexa washed quickly, dressed with trembling hands, and chose one of her plainer dresses. Nothing extravagant, nothing that would draw more attention than she already bore. She tied her hair back into a loose braid and clutched her satchel to her chest. Every movement felt deliberate, heavy with decision.

Her heart raced, but her chin lifted. She was not going to cower today.

The hallways of the mansion were already alive with activity. The maids moved briskly, carrying trays of breakfast, polishing the banisters, whispering to one another as Alexa passed. Their eyes slid toward her — some with pity, most with curiosity. She caught snippets, fragments of the same refrain she had heard before.

“…less than two weeks…” “…married off already…” “…such a waste, poor thing…”

Their voices clung to her like cobwebs, but Alexa did not pause. She tightened her grip on her satchel and pressed on. She would not let gossip weigh her down this morning. She had made up her mind, and for once, she would not yield.

The front doors loomed ahead — massive, carved from dark wood, polished until they gleamed. Beyond them, freedom.

Her pulse thundered as she pushed them open.

The crisp morning air hit her face, cool and sharp. For the first time in days, she breathed deeply, almost smiling at the taste of the outside world. She descended the marble steps quickly, her heart racing with anticipation.

But she did not make it to the gates.

Two guards, stationed there as always, stepped forward as soon as they saw her. Their uniforms were immaculate, their stances rigid. They crossed their spears before her in an unyielding barrier.

“First young lady,” one said evenly, “you are not permitted to leave the estate.”

Alexa froze. Her heart sank. “What?”

The second guard, expressionless, repeated the words. “By order of Mr. Anderson himself, you are not to step beyond the gates.”

She shook her head, disbelief breaking into anger. “I’m only going to my classes. That’s all. You can’t keep me locked up here like—like some prisoner!”

The guards did not flinch. “Our orders are clear. You may not pass.”

Alexa’s throat tightened. She tried again, desperation creeping into her voice. “Please. I need this. Just let me through, just this once. He doesn’t have to know—”

The first guard shook his head firmly. “We cannot, Miss. Forgive us.”

The weight of their words crushed her. Alexa stumbled back, her satchel slipping from her grip. “No,” she whispered. “No, this isn’t fair…”

But fair had never mattered in this house.

It did not take long for Brooks Anderson to hear of her attempt. Within the hour, his heavy footsteps echoed across the marble hall, each one like a hammer striking stone. Alexa stood frozen near the staircase as her father approached, his face thunderous, his presence sharp as a blade.

“Is it true?” His voice boomed through the hall, making the maids scatter like frightened birds. “You tried to leave this house without my permission?”

Alexa’s lips trembled. “I—I only wanted to attend my lectures—”

“Lies!” Brooks roared, cutting her off. His eyes, cold and piercing, pinned her like prey. “You think I don’t know what you’re scheming? You wanted to run. To shame this family. To ruin everything I have secured.”

“No!” Alexa cried, her voice breaking. “I swear, I wasn’t running away! I just wanted—”

“You just wanted?” Brooks sneered, stepping closer. His shadow fell over her, vast and suffocating. “You want nothing. You need nothing. Everything you are, everything you have, comes from me. And you will do as I say.”

Her chest tightened. She wanted to argue, wanted to scream the truth, but her voice faltered under his fury.

Brooks straightened, his gaze sweeping toward the entry. “Pablo!”

From the far end of the hall came Mr. Pablo, the head of security. A broad man with a stern face, his presence alone commanded respect. He bowed his head briefly. “Yes, sir.”

“Double the guards at every entrance,” Brooks ordered, his voice like iron. “She is not to leave this estate until the day of her engagement. No excuses. No exceptions. If she so much as sets a foot beyond the gates, you will answer to me.”

Mr. Pablo’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Understood, sir.”

Brooks turned his glare back to Alexa, his words a cruel decree. “You will not embarrass me. You will not disgrace this family. You belong here, and here you will stay. Until the day you are married, you are nothing more than property under this roof. Remember that.”

Alexa’s breath hitched. His words cut deeper than any blade. Property. That was all she was to him.

Brooks did not linger. With a swirl of his coat, he strode away, his authority leaving the air heavy in his wake. Mr. Pablo gave Alexa one unreadable look — not cruel, not sympathetic, merely firm — before following. The sound of locks clicking and bolts sliding into place echoed through the mansion soon after, each one a reminder of her cage.

That night, Alexa sat in her room, her satchel still by the door, unopened, unused. She stared at it until her eyes burned, until tears blurred her vision.

She had tried. For the second time, she had defied him. And yet, it had only tightened the chains.

The maids’ gossip still whispered in her ears. Emily’s scorn still lingered in her heart. Mirabel’s laughter, the taunts of her classmates — all of it pressed down on her until she felt she might collapse.

And beneath it all, still lurking, still alive, was the memory she swore to forget: the silver-haired being, his voice commanding, his gaze piercing through her.

“It was only a dream,” she whispered again, burying her face in her hands.

But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie.

The dream clung to her, stronger than reality. And the walls of her father’s mansion, locked tighter now than ever before, felt more and more like the bars of fate closing in.

Two weeks. Less than two weeks until she was given away, until the door closed forever.

Alexa pressed her forehead to the cold glass of her window, staring out at a world she could no longer touch. Her heart pounded with dread, but somewhere beneath it flickered something else — something fragile and dangerous.

Hope.

Or defiance.

She did not yet know which.