Chains of the past
549 Words
Chapter 16 – Chains of the Past
The fire sputtered, throwing jagged shadows across the study. The book lay open on the desk, its rose emblem glowing faintly in the gloom. Elena’s breath came shallow and fast, her hands still trembling from the vision.
Adrian stood rigid before her, every line of his body taut as a bowstring. His storm-gray eyes burned with a storm of torment and restraint.
“You’ve been lying to me since the day I stepped foot in this house,” Elena whispered, her voice sharp but fragile. “No more. Tell me what you are. Tell me what my grandmother bound you to.”
His jaw worked, the silence stretching like glass about to shatter. Finally, he exhaled, the sound rough and heavy.
“I am not what you think I am,” he said slowly, each word weighted with centuries. “I’m not a man who simply happened upon Rosewood, nor someone who can walk away from it. I am bound to this house, to your bloodline. By oath. By curse. By choice made long before you were born.”
Elena’s pulse hammered. “Bound how?”
His eyes flickered to the book, then back to her. For once, there was no smirk, no mask of control—only raw honesty.
“Your grandmother saved me,” he admitted. “Or damned me, depending on how you see it. I was not meant to exist here—not like this. I should have been taken long ago. But she anchored me. With her blood. With her will. And when she died…” His throat tightened. “The bond didn’t end. It shifted. To you.”
The room seemed to tilt. Elena gripped the desk for balance, her breath sharp in her lungs. “So what you feel—this pull between us—”
“Is not yours alone,” he finished, voice low, almost desperate. “It’s mine too. I feel it every moment, Elena. The chain that drags me to you. The force that makes me want to protect you… and ruin you.”
His hand lifted as if to touch her face, but he caught himself, stopping inches away, trembling with restraint. “Do you understand now why I can’t tell you everything? Why I can’t let you open that door upstairs? Because the truth isn’t just dangerous—it’s binding. Once you know it, you can never undo it. You’ll never be free of me.”
Her chest tightened, torn between terror and a fierce, aching pull toward him.
She stepped closer anyway, her eyes locked on his. “Maybe I don’t want to be free of you.”
The words left her lips before she could stop them. For a heartbeat, the air between them burned, the weight of his confession tangling with her reckless truth.
Adrian’s breath hitched. His storm-gray eyes softened, then hardened again, war warring with desire.
“Elena…” His voice was a broken prayer. “Don’t say that unless you mean it. Because if you bind yourself to me willingly—if you choose this—there’s no going back.”
The fire flared, the book’s pages rustled without wind, and upstairs, the locked door groaned as though something inside had heard.
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- Writer
