2. Eliza
1250 Words
I woke with the taste of metal in my mouth and the certainty that something was very wrong.
For a few seconds, I did not remember where I was. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, high and pale, crossed by dark wooden beams. The air smelled clean, sharp, like rain and pine. My body felt heavy, sluggish, as if I had run for miles without stopping.
Then memory crashed back in.
The woods.
The man.
The growl that did not sound human.
Him.
I sucked in a sharp breath and pushed myself upright.
Pain flared just behind my ear, dull but insistent. I lifted a trembling hand and touched the spot gingerly. The skin felt tender. There was no blood. No bandage. Just heat, lingering and strange.
Panic surged.
I threw the covers aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The room spun briefly, but I forced myself to stand. The space around me was too large, too quiet. This was not a hospital. This was not my flat. This was not anywhere I recognised.
I was wearing different clothes.
My coat was gone. My boots too. Someone had dressed me in soft trousers and a long sleeved top that smelled faintly of cedar. The realisation made my stomach drop.
“No,” I whispered.
I crossed the room in quick, unsteady steps and grabbed the door handle. It did not move.
Locked.
The sound that left my throat was halfway between a laugh and a sob.
“Hello?” I called, my voice echoing too loudly in the silence. “Is anyone there?”
Nothing.
I rattled the handle harder. “Let me out. Please. I need to go home.”
Home.
The word hit like a bruise. My phone. I patted my pockets frantically, already knowing the answer. Empty. My bag was gone. Everything was gone.
My family would be panicking by now. My sister would have called. My mum would be pacing. I had walked out after Christmas Eve drinks and never come back. My chest tightened painfully.
Footsteps sounded outside.
I straightened instantly.
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside carrying a tray. She was tall, composed, her dark hair pulled back neatly. She stopped when she saw me standing there, eyes sharp and assessing.
“You are awake,” she said calmly.
“Where am I?” I demanded. “And where is my phone?”
She set the tray down slowly. “You are safe.”
“That is not an answer.”
She studied me for a moment longer, then sighed. “You are at the estate. You were unconscious. Don’t worry, I changed and treated you.”
“Thank you. For everything. Can I leave now? My family would be looking for me. Did you see my phone? ”
Her lips curved faintly. Not quite a smile. “That will not be possible just yet.”
My fear flared into anger. “What?”
She inclined her head slightly. “You are Eliza Hartley.”
“Yes,” I answered.
“I am Mara,” she said. “I am here to make sure you stay here.”
“I am well now,” I answered back. “I need to go home.”
Her gaze softened, just a fraction. “You were not well when you arrived.”
“Because someone attacked me in the woods.”
She paused. Just for a second.
“That is not exactly what happened,” she said carefully.
“You were not there, and you cannot just keep me here” I retorted.
“No,” she agreed. “But Rowan was and he has given instructions.”
Rowan. My pulse spiked at the name.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He is attending to.. matters.”
“What is this place?” I pressed.
Her expression tightened. “You should rest.”
“I am not lying down until someone explains what is happening.”
Mara held my gaze for a long moment. Then she stepped aside.
“I will send him to you,” she said.
The room felt too large once the door closed behind her.
I stood exactly where I was, my back pressed to the edge of the bed, heart hammering so violently it made my ears ring. The lock clicked again with a soft, sound that carried far more weight than it should have.
Rowan was his name right? He did not move away from the door immediately.
Up close, he was worse. Too solid. Too contained. Like something dangerous held together by restraint alone. His gaze moved over me, quick and assessing, as if checking for injuries, before lifting to meet my eyes.
“I cannot let you leave,” he said.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You do not get to decide that.”
His jaw tightened. “You are not safe.”
“You keep saying that,” I snapped. “Listen thank you for what you did back there but now I’m leaving.”
Something dark flashed across his face.
“You were attacked.”
“And you think locking me in a room with a stranger fixes that?”
“You are not a stranger to me.”
The words sent a chill through me.
“That does not make this better,” I shot back. “It makes it worse.”
He took a step toward me. Instinctively, I stepped back until the mattress pressed against the backs of my knees.
“You need to listen,” he said, lowering his voice. “There are things you cannot understand yet.”
“Try me.”
His gaze flicked to my neck. Lingered.
“No,” he said quietly. “You would not believe me.”
“Then let me go.”
Silence fell between us again.
When he spoke next, his voice was harder. “I am responsible for you.”
All the fear and confusion inside me twisted into something sharp and furious.
“I am not a lost child,” I said. “I did not ask for your responsibility.”
He held my gaze, unyielding. “That does not change reality.”
“Reality is that I have a family,” I snapped. “People who will notice I am gone. Who will call the police.”
“They will not find you here.”
The certainty in his tone made my stomach drop.
“You are k********g me,” I said, the word heavy and terrifying as it left my mouth.
“I am protecting you.”
“From what?”
He did not answer.
Instead, he stepped back, opening the door just enough to speak to someone outside. His voice dropped, low and controlled, words I could not hear clearly.
Then the door closed again.
Locked.
Panic surged fresh and sharp as reality sunk in.
“You cannot just leave me,” I said, my voice cracking despite my efforts. “You cannot do this”.
I sank onto the bed the moment the silence settled again, my legs finally giving out. My hands shook violently now, adrenaline crashing into exhaustion. I pressed my palms to my face, breathing through the rising panic.
What was happening to me?
This was not how life changed. This was not how worlds collided. Things like this did not happen quietly, without warning, without reason.
And yet here I was.
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