My Second Chance Mate is a Vampire

Chapter 3: At Arm's Length

Ellie tightened the scarf around her neck as she stood in the grand hall, waiting for the first group of the day to arrive. Her breath was still visible in the air—despite the roaring fire crackling in the enormous hearth, the castle’s thick stone walls seemed determined to trap the cold. She tugged at the sleeves of her sweater and shifted on her feet, trying to keep the nerves at bay.

Her first day. Her first real test.

“Relax, Ellie,” she muttered to herself, adjusting her tour guide badge. “It’s just talking. It's like addressing the pack.”

Of course, she hadn’t done it here. Walking tourists through a medieval castle steeped in centuries of history was a far cry from the wolf pack in Perth. But she’d spent hours memorizing the scripts Greta had given her, learning the stories behind every room, every tapestry, every carving. She was ready—or so she hoped.

A few minutes later, the doors swung open, and the first group shuffled in, their laughter and chatter filling the cavernous hall. Parents wrangled excited children while couples pointed excitedly at the enormous Christmas tree dominating the center of the room. It sparkled with gold ribbons and tiny glass ornaments, its scent of fresh pine mingling with the faint aroma of cinnamon wafting from somewhere nearby.

“Good morning, everyone,” Ellie said, mustering her brightest smile. “Welcome to the castle. My name’s Ellie, and I’ll be your guide today. We’ll be exploring some of the castle’s most famous rooms, hearing a few stories about its past, and, of course, admiring its festive decorations.”

Her Australian accent drew curious smiles and a few murmured comments. One man leaned toward his partner and whispered something about how far she must have traveled to be here. Ellie brushed it off, focusing instead on delivering her introduction with as much confidence as she could manage.

The tour started in the entry hall, where Ellie pointed out the towering tapestries that hung along the walls, depicting hunting scenes and royal feasts. She led the group through the dining hall, its long table set with a glittering display of silver and gold, and into the armory, where the children marveled at the suits of armor standing like silent sentinels.

Despite her nerves, Ellie found herself relaxing as the group warmed to her. They asked questions about the castle’s history, laughed at her well-rehearsed jokes, and seemed genuinely fascinated by the stories she told. By the time they reached the courtyard, she was almost enjoying herself.

“And here we are in the courtyard,” Ellie said, gesturing to the open space surrounded by towering stone walls. Snow covered the ground, its pristine surface broken only by the footprints of an earlier group. “This is one of the oldest parts of the castle, dating back to—”

She stopped mid-sentence as her gaze landed on a figure near the edge of the courtyard. A man stood by the frozen fountain, his tall frame silhouetted against the gray sky. He wore a heavy coat and work gloves, and his dark hair was just long enough to curl at the edges where it peeked out from under his beanie. He was leaning over a toolbox, his movements methodical as he adjusted something near the base of the fountain.

Ellie blinked, momentarily thrown off by how striking he was. It wasn’t just his looks—it was the air of quiet focus about him, the way he seemed utterly at home in the cold, stark beauty of the castle.

“Who’s that?” one of the children asked, tugging on his mother’s sleeve.

“That’s Nick,” Ellie said before she could stop herself, the name slipping out as if she’d always known it. Greta had mentioned him briefly during her orientation—a handyman and groundskeeper who’d been working at the castle for years.

As if hearing his name, Nick straightened and turned toward them. His eyes—a piercing shade of blue—met Ellie’s, and for a moment, she felt as though he could see straight through her.

He nodded politely, his expression neutral, and then returned to his work without a word.

Ellie cleared her throat, turning back to the group. “Nick is our groundskeeper. He’s responsible for maintaining the castle and the grounds, including all the beautiful decorations you’ve seen today.”

The group murmured in admiration, but Ellie couldn’t help sneaking another glance in Nick’s direction. He was still working, his movements careful and deliberate, but there was something about him that felt... guarded. As if he were holding the world at arm’s length.

The tour continued, but Ellie found her thoughts drifting back to Nick more than once. There was something compelling about him—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Later, as the group dispersed and Ellie lingered in the courtyard, Nick approached her. She hadn’t expected it, and her pulse quickened as he stopped a few feet away, his gloved hands resting at his sides.

“You’re the new guide,” he said. His voice was low and calm, with a faint accent she couldn’t place.

Ellie nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “That’s me. Ellie Harper. And you’re Nick, the groundskeeper.”

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s right.”

“Thanks for not letting the fountain freeze over,” she said lightly, gesturing to the now-silent spray of water.

He nodded again, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Just doing my job.”

There was a pause, not uncomfortable but not exactly warm either. Ellie had the strange sense that he wanted to be anywhere else, yet something kept him standing there.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, trying to fill the silence. “I’ll probably see you around.”

“Probably,” he said, his tone neutral, before stepping back toward his tools. “Take care, Ellie.”

As he walked away, Ellie couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t just keeping his distance—he was building a wall. And yet, in the brief moments their eyes had met, she thought she’d seen something there. Something unspoken. She could swear that she felt Kida stir within.

—-

The library was Ellie’s favorite part of the castle so far. Tucked away in one of the quieter wings, it was a sprawling room with walls lined floor-to-ceiling with books. Ladders on brass rails allowed access to the highest shelves, and the faint smell of old paper mixed with the comforting aroma of wood polish and the crackling fire in the hearth.

Ellie had been drawn here after dinner, hoping to find something to read and wind down after her first day. The hustle of guiding tours and meeting new people had left her mind buzzing, and she craved a moment of solitude.

She wandered along the shelves, her fingers trailing lightly over the spines of leather-bound volumes. Many of the titles were in languages she couldn’t read—French, German, Latin—but others offered tantalizing glimpses of the past: History of the Northern Highlands, Tales of Old Kings and Queens, and Legends of the Midnight Forest.

Finally, in a corner near a reading nook, Ellie spotted a shelf marked Castle Archives. The books and ledgers here were older, their spines worn and their titles faded. She pulled one out, its cover embossed with the castle’s crest, and settled into a nearby armchair with it.

The book was a ledger, dated over a hundred years ago. Its pages were filled with neat, handwritten entries detailing the daily operations of the castle—supplies ordered, guests entertained, and, most fascinating to Ellie, a list of staff members.

Curious, she flipped through the pages, scanning the names. There were cooks, maids, stable hands, and even a toymaker listed among the staff. Each name was accompanied by their role and, in some cases, notes about their service.

Ellie stopped short when her eyes landed on a particular entry.

Nicholas Gray — Groundsman

She stared at the name, her brow furrowing. It was probably just a coincidence, she told herself. Nick wasn’t exactly an uncommon name, after all. But still, there was something strange about it.

She read on, noting that Nicholas Gray had worked at the castle for nearly three decades. The notes described him as “reliable, skilled with woodwork, and discreet.” There was even a mention of the toys he had made for the local children—a detail that tugged at Ellie’s memory.

“That’s... odd,” she murmured to herself.

The idea of someone with the same name as the current handyman, doing nearly the same job a century ago, struck her as peculiar. She couldn’t help but picture Nick standing by the fountain earlier that day, his quiet presence and piercing dark eyes.

She flipped through more pages, hoping to find a photograph or more information about Nicholas Gray, but the ledger offered nothing further.

Closing the book, Ellie leaned back in the armchair, her mind racing. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Or maybe Nick had been named after someone in his family—a great-grandfather or some distant relative who had worked at the castle.

Still, something about it nagged at her. The castle, with all its history and secrets, seemed to carry an air of mystery that seeped into every corner.

Wolves lived longer lives than humans, but 300 years was far too long even for the purest wolf lineage. And she certainly hadn't sensed any wolves out here. This far from home, no one new of wolves or packs or duties, or ashore alphas named Scott.

Ellie glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was late, and she needed sleep if she was going to keep up with tomorrow’s tours. Setting the ledger back on the shelf, she made her way out of the library, the soft glow of the firelight guiding her steps.

As she walked back to her quarters, her thoughts lingered on the name in the ledger. Nicholas Gray.

Was it just a name? Or was there more to the castle’s handyman than met the eye?

Ellie shook her head, brushing off the thought. It had been a long day, and her imagination was probably running wild. But as she reached her room and settled into bed, the name refused to leave her mind, echoing softly like the castle’s secrets calling out to her.