5. Alexandre
1392 Words
I did not ask her permission.
That, admittedly, was my first mistake.
She stood there, rigid in the guest corridor, my coat still wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes bright with unshed tears and something sharper. An anger that was sharp as a blade. The foyer chaos had faded behind us. Guests were ushered away. Staff moved with quiet efficiency. The lodge was settling back into order.
She was not.
"I'll be fine," she said for the third time, jaw clenched. "I don't need special treatment."
"You do tonight," I told her earnestly.
Her laugh was faint. "You don't know me."
I studied her in the low light. Dark eyes, dark hair that fell in loose waves just past her shoulders. Her pale skin was flushed from adrenaline. My eyes flicked to the spot across her cheek that was still red. Faint finger marks could be seen on the surface of her skin where a bruise was blooming. My hands curled at my sides.
"Has he laid a hand on you before?" I asked. I don't know what prompted the question, but there was something possessive that needed to know the answer.
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"Before tonight," I pressed, hoping she would tell me. "Has he ever hurt you?"
"That is none of your business," she snapped. "How dare you ask me that? Why do you care?"
If the answer was yes, I needed to move quickly.
If the answer was yes, that man would not be leaving this mountain unscathed.
I took a deep breath. "You fled. In heels," I said, as calm as I could manage. "You were terrified. You were hurt. Those things do not happen as a once off."
Her hands trembled as she shoved them into the pockets of my coat. "I tripped," she said. "I panicked. That doesn't give you the right to interrogate me like I'm-"
"Like someone who was in danger?" I finished for her. "Because you were."
She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "I'm not your responsibility. I can take care of myself."
Tonight, you are.
I didn't say it out loud. I should have.
Instead, I said, "You are under my protection."
Her face hardened instantly. "I didn't agree to that."
"You don't need to."
That was my second mistake.
She laughed then, sharp and full of disbelief. "Wow. You really are exactly what you look like."
"And what is that?"
"A man who's never been told no."
The words struck closer than I'd liked.
"I am telling you no," she continued, unphased. "I am not staying locked away because you decided I'm too fragile."
"I never said you were fragile."
"You didn't have to."
We stood there, tension humming between us. The lodge groaned softly around us as wind pressed harder against the mountain. Somewhere outside, the trees bent under the weight of snow. Her eyes bore into mine, unyielding. Why was this so...intriguing?
I softened my voice, like trying to approach a frightened kitten. "The storm is worsening."
She scoffed. "It's winter. In the alps."
"It's a whiteout," I told her. "Road access is already compromised. Flights are all grounded. No vehicle can leave tonight."
"I didn't ask for a weather report."
I glanced toward the windows at the end of the hall. Snow slammed against the glass in furious sheets. The wards along the lodge's perimeter pulsed faintly beneath the stone. The old magic responding to natural pressure, not a threat.
"You're trapped here whether you like it or not." She groaned in response. I continued, "I am just ensuring you are not alone while you are."
Her mouth opened, then closed. For the first time, uncertainty flickered across her face, like she was trying to decide on the lesser of two evils. Stay here in a place that holds bad memories, with unfamiliar people. Or, to leave and take her chances out there.
I could see the moment when she let her defiance take over. She lifted her chin. "I'll take my chances."
Stubborn. Reckless. Brave.
Dangerous.
"You ran," I said quietly. "You didn't look back. Not even when he followed you."
Her breath hitched as I moved closer.
"That tells me more than you think."
She turned away, arms wrapping around herself. For a moment, I thought she might try to run again.
Instead, very softly, she said, "You don't get to decide what happens to me now."
I stepped closer again, lowering my voice. "I decide what happens on this mountain."
She spun back around, her fury burning bright. Her eyes shone like dark gems, anger etched in every beautiful feature. "There it is. The arrogance."
"No," I said firmly. "The responsibility."
Her eyes searched my face like she was looking for cracks. Weaknesses. Lies.
She wouldn't find any.
"You think wrapping it up in concern makes it better," she said, voice hard. "But you're still taking control away from me."
I hesitated.
That was true.
The lodge lights flickered briefly as the wind howled louder, rattling the bones of the mountain. A distant thud echoed as something gave way on the slope. Most people wouldn't be able to hear it. She sure didn't. She was human through and through. I should be pulling back. I should be letting her find her own way. But I couldn't.
Something between us made that impossible.
She glanced outside through the large windows, something beyond catching her eye.
I took the opening. "Come with me," I said gently. "We'll get you settled in a new room. You can lock the door if it makes you feel better. I'll put extra protections on it."
"I don't trust you."
Smart woman.
"You shouldn't," I told her without hesitation. "Trust is earned."
That startled her. I have a feeling that she doesn't have much experience with people earning her trust, only expecting it.
She studied me again, slower this time. Her eyes took me in, trying to find a weakness.
"And yet...you expect me to follow you."
"I expect you to survive the night," I laughed. "Preferably intact."
Her lips pressed together as the silence stretched.
Finally, she exhaled sharply. "Fine. One night."
Relief was not the word I'd use to explain how I felt right now. More like the tension that riddled my body was redirected elsewhere.
I led her deeper into the lodge, toward a private wing reserved for myself and my private guests. Secure. Warded. Quiet. The storm outside intensified with every step. The mountain stood firm though.
"You're still not my keeper," she muttered as we walked.
"I am." I couldn't help but smile to myself. "Just for tonight."
She shot me a look. "I can't believe you're enjoying this."
I wasn't.
I was enjoying her fire. Her refusal to bend. The way she met every boundary like it was a challenge.
That was the problem.
Not often did people bite back, challenge me. And I was enjoying that. I was enjoying the way that she was capable, she was quick with her words. In another life, she would have made a great Luna.
Her room was already prepared by the time we got there. Fire lit, tea waiting, medical kit placed on the table. I gestured inside.
She hesitated on the threshold.
"I'll stand outside," I said. "If that helps."
She blinked, clearly not expecting that. Then, she stepped inside. I remained in the hall as she moved around the room, testing windows, checking locks. When she was satisfied, she turned back to me.
"You never answered," she said, staring at me in a kind-of disbelief.
"About what?" I asked.
"Why you care."
Because the scent of her clung to my senses like a warning.
Because something instinctive had stirred when she screamed in the foyer.
Because the idea of her leaving my territory unguarded felt wrong on a level I didn't have words for.
"I don't leave guests vulnerable," I told her. It was easier than trying to admit the truth.
She studied me, then shook her head. "You're impossible."
"And you're fire."
She smiled then, quick, sharp and wholly inappropriate.
"I've been called worse."
The wind roared louder, the storm sealing the mountain closed with a harsh finality. Somewhere deep, magic settled into place.
The blizzard had claimed us all.
And whether she accepted it or not, Charlie was not facing it alone."
- Writer
