Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 9: The Mansion

Sunshine begins to invade my eyes as I feel the car slow to a stop. My eyes flicker open, sleep still trying to pull me back and consume me. I try to stretch up only to be immobilized by a thick heavy arm draped across my shoulders.

My mate’s husky voice murmurs into my ear, “Welcome home little wolf.” Hearing his voice coupled with my new nickname sends flutters to my stomach.

Damien moves his arm so I am able to sit up just as Jeremiah drives through an open gate. The guard at the gate spots me, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

We drive down a smooth dirt road that is surrounded by oak trees. They curve inwards to form an archway, making it feel like we are driving through a tunnel.Tendrils of leaves cascade down, swaying in the breeze and almost touching the car as we pass by. It looks like a fairytale passage transporting us to a new world. I can picture how magical it would look with twinkle lights wrapped around the tree trunks and through the branches, making the leaves sparkle like diamonds.

We reach the end of the tunnel of trees and a huge mansion emerges in front of me. The white stone is nearly blinding as the sun shines against it. It stands tall and looks to be about three stories. The roof peaks in a triangle and around the edges is a collection of alternating statues depicting different phases of the moon and wolves. Some of the wolves stand alone, while some are clearly mated couples. Black ironwork contrasts against the bright stone. It twists and curves in intricate beautiful patterns along the windows and balconies. It exudes a sense of grandeur and enhances the ever-growing fairytale feeling.

As we continue to drive towards the back of the mansion, a collection of people gather on the opposite side. They are dressed in active wear and as the rest of the stragglers reach the group, they take off in a run, going further away from us.

“That is the morning warrior training.” Damien speaks up. “They train Monday to Saturday, from six to eight.”

“Jeez, six in the morning? No one likes to sleep in?” I joke.

Before Damien can retort, Jeremiah chuckles and responds, “Your mate is a bit of a masochist.”

Damien groans and replies, “Oh yeah? You want to go join them?” A mischievous smile conveys that his threat is empty.

“Ohhh, scary Alpha coming out.” Jeremiah quips while looking at me through the rearview mirror.

I let out a small laugh. Damien glances down at me with adoration. I wonder if my smile and laugh has the same effect on him that his does to me.

“Would I need to try out to be able to join training?” I ask Damien, still watching the warriors as they disappear into the distance.

Damien looks at me like I have grown a second head. “You want to train with them?”

“Well yeah, of course I do. I was in warrior training back home to prepare for my role as Beta. We only trained three times a week so it definitely wasn’t as intense as this one is, but I can give it a go. It’s clearly important to your pack.”

“Our pack.” Damien corrects instantly.

My whole body goes stiff and it takes me a second to recover.

“Right, our pack.” I take a deep breath.

I was so wrapped up in finding my mate and having to leave home so abruptly that it didn’t register to me that by being mated to an Alpha means I am now inheriting the duties of helping run a whole new pack. The weight of responsibility feels heavy on my shoulders.

I continue, trying to distract myself. “Plus, you said there are dangerous people out there who could use me to hurt you. I need to be able to hold my own if something happens.”

A silence falls over the car while we all have our own revelations. I realize that despite not knowing much about the man beside me, I want to stand with him and lead a pack I know nothing about. I can see the wheels turning in Damien’s head but he stays quiet.

Jeremiah is the only one who voices his revelation. “She’s going to make one hell of a Luna.”

Jeremiah pulls into a large garage. As the garage door rolls down behind us, I take in the other vehicles and gear around me. Two other SUVs are lined up beside us. I hop out of the car to get a better look and as I peek past the cars I spot two ATVs and a motorcycle. Hearing the beep of the trunk open, I turn to see Damien and Jeremiah grabbing my suitcase and backpack out.

“So who’s the adrenaline junkie?” I ask, throwing my thumb in the direction of the ATVs and motorcycle.

“That would be me.” Damien smirks, while throwing my backpack over his shoulder.

“A masochist and an adrenaline junkie. That’s a dangerous combination.” I say as Damien strides up to me.

He stops in front of me, our chests almost touching before he leans down until we are face to face, only a breath apart. “Only if you want it to be”, he purrs seductively. My cheeks flush and my heart beats faster. I watch his lips spread into a smile as he leans in closer to touch his lips to mine.

“Keep it in your pants Alpha.” Jeremiah calls as he exits the garage into the house, effectively dosing the fire that was crackling between us before it could explode with another incredible kiss. I can still feel his lips on mine from the kiss in my bedroom earlier tonight.

Damien straightens up and looks toward where Jeremiah left. “Two punches.” I hear Damien say under his breath.

He looks back to me, annoyance evaporating into warmth. “Come on.” He states simply, reaching out his hand for mine. My hand reaches out without thought and addicting sparks extend from my hand, up my arm and throughout my body.

He spins smoothly and pulls me towards the door to enter the house. The inside is just as opulent as the outside. We enter into a massive foyer. Marble gleams from every surface and a double staircase with black wooden banisters winds up to the second floor. From the ceiling, a shining chandelier dangles with delicate pear-shaped crystals. The white painted walls are adorned with stunning paintings of different landscapes. Mountains, lakes, oceans, deserts. There is an intimate feeling ingrained in them, like they are real locations rather than simply conceptual make believe. If you look too long, it feels like it could fall into them and be transported there.

Tearing my eyes away, I follow Damien up the staircase and onto the second floor. He turns right and pulls me down the hallway to reach another staircase at the far end. As we pass by, there are more paintings. They are spaced evenly out all along the walls depicting different scenarios. These ones are much darker than the ones on the first floor. In them I see people curled over in pain reaching out for help only to be ignored, Van Gogh like paintings exhibiting an overpowering loneliness and scenes filled with blood, lots of blood. I look away feeling uncomfortable, as if I have just peered into someone’s nightmares.

We climb the second set of stairs to the third floor, presumably the Alpha suite. I am still unsettled by the paintings from the last floor but I am pleasantly surprised when I reach the top step and see a portrait of what seems to be Persephone and Hades embracing. Looking around, my favorite Greek myths line the rest of the hall. There must be about a half dozen of them. I see Arachne and Athena in fierce competition, Odysseus and the Cyclops battling it out and so many more.

Wildly, I flit from painting to painting trying to absorb it all. The telling of all these stories in such a manner is like how the myths describe looking at the gods themselves. Impossibly beautiful and able to obliterate you where you stand. I feel like if I wait long enough the gods will crawl out of their golden frames and smite me down for gazing upon them for too long.

Damien stops just before a door half way down the hall. “I told you we had a lot in common.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond as he opens up the door and leaves it open for me. Begrudgingly, I tear my eyes away from Heracles weeping over the death of his wife with Hera rejoicing sinisterly behind him.

As I walk through Damien’s open bedroom door, I'm surprised by the stark contrast in design compared to the rest of the house. The floor transitions drastically from white marble to black wood. An enormous floor to ceiling window that arches at the top faces out to look onto the front courtyard, a glass door off to the side leading to a small balcony. The black iron beams on the balcony are layered with vines. It gives a sense of being outdoors while inside. Pulling my attention away from the window, I look around the room to see a couple black dressers, doors to a closet and another painting.

One singular painting hangs next to the wall besides the door. A stag is being ripped apart by dogs with a huntress looking on. It's more vicious than the other ones. The attacking dogs' jowls are saturated in blood, their teeth barred ready for their next kill. You can see the life draining from the stag and the huntress appears to be smiling. Of all the Greek myths, this is the last one you’d expect in a bedroom.

The only thing left in the room is the bed. It’s a king-sized four post canopy bed with two night stands on either side. A dark green duvet and white pillows adorn the bed. They look plush and I bet sleeping on them would feel like being enveloped by clouds. With only getting a few hours of sleep, my body is screaming at me to lie down but looking at my mate, it also screams for him to lay me down.

I turn away from the bed, embarrassed by my willingness to jump into bed with a man I just met, even if he is my mate. Directly across from the foot of the bed displays built-in shelves filled with books. His collection ranges from supernatural lore to dystopian classics and of course, Greek mythology. My fingers tingle, a desire to reach out and pull one off the shelf rising. I hold back, still feeling like a visitor in this space.

“We’ve got a few more to add to the shelf.” My mate’s deep voice resounds behind me. I turn to see him throwing my suitcase on the bed and unzipping the bag. He opens it up and pulls out some of my favorite books, as well as my record player. He pulls out something wrapped in one of my thick oversized sweatshirts. Protected in the fabric is a stack of some of my vinyl records. Tears dare to spill over as I am overwhelmed with gratitude. My feet move without thought until I am slamming into Damien in a tight embrace. He stills for a second from surprise but then wraps his arms around me, stroking my back soothingly.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

“You don’t need to thank me Mia. My life is now dedicated to making you happy.”

With that, the tears spill over. Damien pulls away from me to wipe the tears from my eyes. His face is concerned so I try to reassure him.

“They are happy tears. I promise.” I say with a smile.

He nods, pulling me in again for another hug. We are quiet for a few seconds before he leans back to look at me.

“It’s been a long night. How about you get some more sleep and I’ll give you a tour later?” He says.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” I look to the bed longingly. A thought comes to my mind, is he going to nap with me? He’s been up all night too. I don’t think I will actually be able to sleep with him in bed with me but a bit of exhaustion might be worth it.

“There are some pajamas in the bag and an extra eye mask in the night stand. I should be back in a few hours but if you need anything I will station a warrior outside the door and they can mindlink me.” Damien shifts to walk past me to exit the room.

“Wait, what are you going to do? You haven’t slept either.” I question.

“Already trying to get me in bed, little wolf?” He calls over his shoulder giving me a devious smile.

I sputter and turn red with embarrassment which makes him chuckle. “I need to meet with my beta and lead warrior and then catch the last half of training. After that, you can have me in bed as long as you’d like.” He turns to wink at me just before he closes the door, leaving me forgetting how to breathe.

My short circuited brain boots back up after a few seconds and I start getting ready to nap. I go to my bag to pull out my so-called “pajamas”, a white see-through tank top and red booty shorts. Of course, that is what he picked. Regardless, I throw them on and go to the bathroom to wash my face. As I enter the bathroom, I notice that the marble that coats the rest of the house has returned, only in here it is black to match the rest of Damien’s room. Our room.

My eyes dial in on a massive tub with jets. I almost rethink the nap and opt for a bath but just as the thought passes through my brain, I let out a huge yawn. A shower sits at the far corner with a button pad on the outside indicating different functions like rain, mist and steam. Everything in here is big enough for two. While beginning to imagine Damien and I showering together, pressed up against the cold glass as hot water flows down our bodies, a nasty thought comes to mind. Has Damien had anyone else in here? I feel a growl building and mentally scold myself. I admonished him for being jealous when we first met and now I am acting the same. I shake away the thoughts and leave the bathroom.

On my way to the bed, I grab a book off the shelf and take it with me. Pulling back the covers, I sink down and cover myself. It is just as soft as I thought it would be. Damien’s scent fills my nose, already calming me. I reach for my book selection, Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Arthur La Bern. I only get a few pages in when my eyes begin to feel heavy and the weight of the book presses on my hands. I close it, reaching into the nightstand to find the eye mask Damien mentioned, and slowly drift to sleep.