Behind the door

The roses page

Chapter 15 – The Rose Pages

The house lay in suffocating darkness, broken only by the faint glow of dying embers in the fireplace. Adrian stood frozen in the shadows, his jaw clenched, his storm-gray eyes unreadable.

But Elena could no longer rely on his silence. She moved to the desk, her fingers trembling as they found the book. The rose on its cover seemed warmer now, as though it pulsed faintly under her touch.

“Elena,” Adrian warned, his voice a low growl. “Don’t.”

She ignored him. She flipped open the book, pages whispering like restless wings. The faint scent of ash and roses filled the air.

Words bled across the parchment in fresh ink, forming even as she watched:

“One heart must bear the burden. One soul must carry the chain. Choose him, or lose all. Delay, and the house will claim you both.”

Elena’s breath quickened. She traced the letters with a trembling finger, the ink smearing slightly, staining her skin. “It’s talking about you,” she whispered.

Adrian’s voice cut through the room, sharp and raw. “It’s twisting the truth. That book doesn’t give answers—it binds them. Every word drags you deeper into this curse.”

But she couldn’t stop. She turned another page—and the words melted into images. The parchment rippled like water, and suddenly she wasn’t staring at text but at a vision.

A woman—her grandmother—stood in the very hallway upstairs, facing the locked door. Behind her loomed a shadow, tall and indistinct, with eyes that burned like coals.

Adrian was there too, younger somehow, his face etched with anguish as her grandmother pressed a hand to his chest. “You are bound, Adrian. Until she comes. Until she chooses.”

The vision rippled, and Elena gasped, clutching the desk. Adrian was at her side in an instant, his hand gripping her arm, grounding her. His touch seared, desperate.

“Stop,” he said, his voice trembling in a way she’d never heard before. “Elena, please. That book will take more from you than you can give.”

She tore her eyes from the vision to meet his. His face was pale, shadowed with torment, his storm-gray gaze burning into hers.

“You were there,” she whispered. “With her. You’ve been part of this from the beginning. You’ve been waiting for me.”

His jaw clenched. For a long, unbearable moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, his voice broke through, ragged and pained.

“Yes.”

The single word landed like a blade between them.

Elena’s breath shuddered, the truth sinking deep. Whatever bound them, whatever haunted this house—it wasn’t chance. It was fate, woven long before she was born.

And now, every page of the book, every whisper of the house, every beat of her heart, was dragging her closer to a choice she didn’t yet understand.

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