Chapter 2:The west wings
430 Words
*Chapter 2: The West Wing*
The castle was too quiet.
Elena’s heart hammered in her chest as she stood in front of the door marked with iron chains and a single warning carved into the wood:
*RULE 3: DO NOT ENTER AFTER SUNSET.*
The other maids said the Duke hadn’t stepped out of the west wing in 10 years.
They said he was cursed.
They said if you heard growling, you run.
But the candlelight had gone out in there. And Lady Morrow would whip her if the Duke’s study was dark again.
“It’s just one minute,” Elena whispered to herself. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the heavy door open.
Cold air hit her face.
It smelled like old books, iron... and something wild.
The room was massive. Floor to ceiling windows. A desk covered in maps. And in the center, chained to the floor, sat a man.
His back was to her. Black hair fell over broad shoulders. His white shirt was torn at the seams, like something inside him was trying to get out.
“Who’s there?”
His voice was low. Rough. Like he hadn’t used it in weeks.
Elena froze. “I-I’m sorry, My Lord. The candles—”
He turned.
Golden eyes. Not human. Pupils stretched thin, glowing in the dark. Scars ran down his neck and disappeared under his collar.
The Duke of Blackthorn.
He stood in one movement, and the chains rattled. But they didn’t hold him back.
“You broke rule 3,” he said, taking a step toward her. “Do you know what happens to girls who break rule 3, little maid?”
Elena wanted to run. Her legs wouldn’t move.
“I was just—”
“Mine.”
The word cut through the room.
He was in front of her now. Too close. He dipped his head and inhaled near her neck. A shudder ran through him.
“You smell like summer,” he growled. “And fear.”
Her pulse jumped. He noticed. Of course he did.
“Please, let me go,” she whispered.
The Duke’s hand came up and gripped her chin. Not hard. But she couldn’t look away.
“Too late.” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip. “The moment you stepped in here, the castle chose you.”
Outside, thunder rolled. The full moon was rising.
And the chains around his wrists snapped.
His eyes went completely gold.
“Run,” he told her. But his hand was still on her face.
Elena didn’t.
---
*TO BE CONTINUED
- Writer
