My Mate From Another World

AFTER THAT

Chapter 4

Instead of returning to her isolated bedroom, Emily slipped down a narrow, dusty stone staircase that led into the abandoned west conservatory, her mother's old painting studio. Nobody in the family came down here anymore; the heavy oak door was usually left forgotten, half-hidden behind thick velvet drapes that smelled of mildew and age. The air inside was dense with the accumulated dust of years, carrying the sharp, nostalgic scent of dried oil paints, aged linen canvas, and long-standing neglect. Overgrown, wild ivy clung desperately to the cracked glass panels of the domed roof, filtering the moonlight into pale, jagged geometric patterns that danced across the cold stone floor.

She collapsed onto the dusty velvet daybed in the corner, pulling her knees tight against her chest and burying her wet face in her arms. The chill of the room seeped through her denim jeans, but she barely registered the physical discomfort.

"Mom," she whispered softly into the freezing air, her voice trembling as heavy sobs racked her body. "Why did you leave me all alone? Why do I have to suffer for surviving that night when you didn't? I can't do this without you. I don't know how to stay strong anymore."

The silence of the old studio offered no answers, only the soft rustle of wind scraping dry branches against the glass overhead. Heavy emotional exhaustion finally claimed her, pulling her down into a dense, dreamless darkness where her pain could no longer reach her.

The Dream

Emily found herself lying on a cold stone floor that seemed to stretch out endlessly into infinite darkness. The damp air felt frigid, smelling faintly of ozone, crushed iron, and raw meat. The silence here was different from the forest by the river, it hummed with a strange, latent energy that made her teeth ache.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice barely carrying in the vast void. Her trembling words echoed back at her, hollow, warped, and mocking.

She tried to push herself up and stand, but her limbs felt heavy like solid lead, glued securely to the icy stone. Far at the end of the endless dark hall, a single shaft of pale moonlight pierced the gloom, illuminating swirling specks of gray dust.

Then came the sound: a low, gut-wrenching growl that vibrated through the floorboards directly into her bones. It was a sound of absolute, predatory dominance.

Heavy, terrifying footsteps approached her position out of the thick fog. A dark shadow fell over her body, it looked massive, towering, and impossibly broad, with red glowing eyes that burned like embers through the dark fog, accompanied by the wet, rhythmic click of massive claws against stone.

"Please..." Emily whimpered, shivering so hard her teeth chattered in fear. "Don't kill me!"

A massive, fur-covered hand extended toward her, sharp curved claws reaching directly for her exposed throat. Yet, right before the claws made contact, a wave of intense heat radiated from the monstrous form, enveloping her in a scent of wild roses and storm clouds.

Emily snapped awake with a blood-curdling gasp, sitting bolt upright on the daybed. Her heart was hammering violently against her ribs, her clothes soaked with cold sweat, and her lungs desperately searching for air.

Sunlight was streaming brightly through the dirt-streaked glass windows of her mother's studio. It wasn't just early morning, it was late afternoon. The golden light was already beginning to turn amber as the sun dipped toward the horizon. She had slept continuously through an entire day and night, her exhausted mind and body completely shutting down from severe emotional stress.

Panic instantly seizing her chest, Emily scrambled up from the daybed and rushed back up the dusty stone stairs toward her wing of the mansion. Her heart sank with every step; missing a meal was dangerous, but disappearing for over twenty-four hours was an unpardonable offense in her father's eyes.

As she rounded the corner near her bedroom, Mary practically threw herself forward, grabbing Emily's arms with desperate strength.

"Where have you been?!" Mary cried out, her face pale, worn, and drawn with absolute terror. "We have been searching for you since yesterday morning! Your father had the guards checking the grounds! We thought you ran away or jumped into the river!"

"Yesterday?" Emily gasped, her head spinning with severe confusion. "I... I was just sleeping down in Mom's old studio. I lost track of time. I didn't mean to.”

Mary wiped a tear from her aged eye, her hands shaking as she smoothed down Emily's tangled hair. "Go change, quickly! Dinner is about to start, and your father is already furious. You cannot afford to make him angrier today. Put on something proper and come down immediately."

Emily quickly washed her pale face in her bathroom, pulled on a light cotton dress, and rushed down the grand staircase to the formal dining hall. The moment her shoes crossed the threshold, the noisy clatter of silver utensils instantly ceased, and the room fell dead silent.

"Oh, look who finally decided to rejoin the living," Isabella sneered, casually sipping her red wine from a crystal glass. "We thought a wild beast had finally eaten you in the woods. Or perhaps you thought hiding in the dark would make your impending wedding magically disappear?"

Sarah leaned toward Jake, whispering loudly enough for every servant in the room to hear, "What was she doing down in that dead woman's room anyway? Talking to ghosts? She looks half-dead herself."

"She is not a 'dead woman'!" Emily snapped, her hands slamming hard onto the wooden table. Her own sudden outburst stunned her, but the raw, aching anger that had been building inside her for years could no longer be held back. "She was my mother! Have some respect!"

Frederick's face transformed into a mask of pure, demonic rage. He slammed his heavy crystal glass down so hard against the mahogany surface that it shattered into jagged pieces, sending dark red wine spraying across the pristine white tablecloth like fresh blood.

"Your mother is DEAD!" Frederick roared, standing up and towering over the head of the table. "She is dead and buried, and you need to accept it! You are a pathetic, fragile fool clinging to a corpse!"

"She is the only person who ever truly loved me in this wretched house!" Emily screamed back, hot tears spilling down her flushed face. "And you hate me because I lived!"

Frederick pointed a shaking, furious finger directly at her face, his voice dropping into a guttural, cruel venom. "You want to know why I hate looking at you?! Because YOU killed her! It was YOUR fault she died that night! If you hadn't strayed into the dark forest like an i***t, she would still be standing here today!"

The words hit Emily like a physical blow directly to her chest. Her breath hitched, her sight blurring as a severe wave of dizziness washed over her. The entire room tilted violently on its axis, the faces of her family blurring into cruel, mocking caricatures.

Without another word, Emily turned on her heel and fled the dining room. She ran blindly down the dimly lit stone corridors, her father's cruel, booming voice echoing off the high walls after her, chasing her into the dark: "You killed her! You killed her!"