Chapter 6: The Nothern Wing
1745 Words
The hallway to the northern wing felt colder than the rest of Blackstone Estate Not draughty, but unnaturally cold, as if the air itself hadn't moved in years.
Charles walked three steps ahead of me, his stride relaxed, but I could see tension in the set of his shoulders. His posture sharpened the closer we came to the end of the corridor. He wasn't afraid. Charles Black didn't fear anything.
But he was on guard.
And that terrified me far more than any creaking door or flickering light.
"What's in the northern wing?" I whispered.
He didn’t look back, but he slowed, allowing me to fall into step beside him.
"History," he said.
"Secrets."
His eyes slid to mine.
“And danger.”
"That's not an answer."
He smiled slightly. “It’s the only one you can handle right now.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then the air changed-
Thicker, heavier, like the atmosphere tightened around my ribs.
The house creaked.
No… not the house.
A door.
Somewhere deeper in the wing, a long, slow creak echoed, as if welcoming us.
Or warning us away.
“Why does the house feel like it's… watching?” I whispered.
Charles finally ceased.
He turned to face me fully, cupping my chin with his thumb and forefinger. The gesture could've been tender, but with him, nothing was ever purely gentle.
“It reacts to certain bloodlines,” he murmured. “And you—little raven—are one of them.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
"My sister and I…? We're just ordinary."
“No.” His hand lowered, brushing the base of my throat. “There is nothing ordinary about you.”
He stopped.
“And your sister knew it.”
My stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"
“We’ll discuss it when you see what she left behind.”
His hand slid to the small of my back, guiding me forward.
The hall opened up to a high, arched doorway which had not been dusted in some time. Compared with the rest of the estate-polished, gleaming, obsessively maintained-this part felt abandoned. Like something here wasn't supposed to be disturbed.
Charles lifted a heavy iron latch.
The door protested with a harsh groan, opening just enough to allow the light to spill in.
"Stay close," he ordered, voice low.
We went inside.
It was a huge room a lost library or archive of some kind shelves tower high with old journals, ledgers, and artifacts. Thick curtains were drawn across huge windows, but enough morning light seeped in around the cracks to illuminate swirling dust.
It felt like walking into a memory.
"What is this place?" I whispered.
"Blackstone history. Every generation leaves behind something." He stepped deeper into the room. "Some leave knowledge.
He then looked at me over his shoulder.
“Some leave warnings.
My heart thudded.
“And my sister…?”
“She left this.”
Charles stopped at a wooden writing desk. My breath caught when I saw it.
A lone envelope.
Yellowed edges. My name written in my sister's handwriting.
Hale
Underlined twice. As if she'd written it in urgency. Or fear.
My fingers hovered over it, quivering.
“She knew I'd come here,” I whispered.
“Yes.” Charles's voice softened just slightly. “She trusted you to find this… even if she didn't trust me.”
I shot him a wary glance.
“What did you do to her?”
He didn't flinch. Didn't look away.
"I protected her."
“By locking her in this house? By watching her?” I snapped.
His eyes darkened. “If I hadn’t, she’d have died years ago.”
The answer hit like a slap.
I opened my mouth, closed it, then looked back at the envelope.
I lifted it carefully, my heart hammering. Inside were three items:
• One torn photograph of my sister standing beside a man, tall and dark-haired, with a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Kade Mercer.
• A silver key.
• A handwritten note.
I unfolded the note with shaking hands.
Her sister's handwriting was uneven and rushed.
Hale,
If you're reading this, it means I couldn't go back.
You need to leave Blackstone-before he marks you too.
Don't trust Kade.
Don't trust Charles.
Don't trust the house.
Everything here is alive.
And it wants you.
My vision blurred.
“Charles…” My voice cracked. “What does this mean?
He stepped behind me, hands bracing on either side of the desk, caging me in.
“It means,” he said softly, “your sister was already unraveling when she wrote that.”
I glared at him. "That doesn't answer anything."
“It answers everything.” His breath whispered against my ear. “Your sister trusted the wrong man. And now she’s trying to drag you into her mistakes.”
I spun to face him, the note clenched in my fist.
“Which wrong man?” I challenged. “You or Kade?”
His jaw tensed.
The silence between us turned into a blade.
“You know the answer,” he said finally.
“No, I don’t.”
Charles leaned closer. Dangerous. Controlled.
And far too calm.
“If you really thought I was the threat,” he whispered, “you wouldn't be standing this close.”
Heat flushed through me anger, fear, something else I refused to name.
I tried to step back.
He caught my wrist, not harshly, but firmly.
“Let go,” I whispered.
"Not until you stop lying to yourself."
His hand traveled up my arm slowly, marking goosebumps along the way.
“You feel it,” he said, “the pull, the connection, the way this place reacts to you.” His eyes dropped to my throat where my pulse was racing. “The way I react to you.”
His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, sending sparks up my arm.
"That's not a warning," I said. "That's possession."
He smiled darkly. "Everything worth keeping must be possessed."
My breath caught.
For a moment one terrifying, intoxicating moment-I didn't pull away.
Then the lights flickered.
All of them.
Books rustled on their shelves.
The air thickened.
A cold wind slithered through the room, though no windows were open.
The house was reacting again.
No Answering.
Charles cursed under his breath and then tugged at my waist, hauling me flush against his chest.
“Hale listen closely.”
The temperature dropped further, enough to make my breath fog.
"Whatever you hear," he whispered into my hair, "don't run.
The room groaned. A faraway door slammed. The shadows lengthened across the floor like ink.
My pulse pounded.
“Charles what’s happening?”
"The northern wing," he said darkly, "doesn't like intruders."
The shadows quivered then moved.
Didn't flicker.
Not swayed.
Moved.
Like something crawled beneath them.
I froze.
“Charles…”
His grip tightened. "Stay with me."
A hiss echoed across the room low, guttural, not human.
And then, a voice.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
Whispered, soft as a breath against the back of my neck.
Hhhhhaaaale…
I gasped, stumbling into Charles.
The shadows thickened.
The whisper came again.
…come back…
My heart dropped into my stomach.
“That’s” My voice broke. “That was my sister’s voice.
Charles's arms locked around me. "No. It wasn't.
“Yes it”
"Hale." His tone cut through my panic. "The house uses what you fear. What you love. It mimics. It deceives."
He turned my face toward him, forcing my eyes to meet his.
"This wing is trying to get inside your mind. Do not let it."
“But she” Tears stung my eyes. “She sounded terrified.”
"Your sister is terrified," he said, "but not here.
The whisper came again, this time closer, cold fingers trailing down my spine.
…run…
I clutched Charles's shirt. "We need to leave."
He shook his head. "Not yet."
“Charles”
“There’s one more thing you need to see.”
A lightning illuminated outside flashed something carved into the wall behind the desk a symbol.
A sigil.
A mark.
The very same that is seared into the silver key in my pocket.
My stomach twisted. "What is that?"
Something close to dread darkened Charles's face.
“That,” he said in a quiet voice, “is the mark of the man your sister ran with.”
“Kade,” I whispered.
“Yes.” His jaw clenched. “But that symbol is older than him.”
The whisper came again angrier, desperate.
…run, Hale…
Charles clutched my face between his hands, making me look at him, not at the shadows.
"Look at me. Only me."
I did.
And his next words broke something within me.
“Kade didn’t just take your sister.”
He stopped and his eyes burned.
"He came back for you."
My blood ran cold.
"He left that sigil in Blackstone to claim you."
“…Why?”
Charles pulled me flush against his chest, his voice a harsh whisper in my ear.
"Because Kade Mercer wants what I want."
His breath was trembling with anger.
“He wants you.”
The shadows lunged.
Charles threw his arm around me, dragging me toward the door as books flew off the shelves, crashing to the floor like a hurricane tearing through the archives.
The house roared.
And for the first time I heard something inside of Charles break.
“Hold on to me, Hale,” he yelled, tugging me close as the room caved in behind us.
I clung to him, breathless, terrified.
And then-
as he dragged me through the doorway I heard the final whisper.
Not my sister's voice.
A man’s
Low.
Threatening.
Smiling.
“Found you.”
The door slammed shut.
Inside, darkness swallowed the room whole.
And Charles turned, his face carved with pure lethal fury.
“Kade is closer than I thought,” he said.
His grip on my waist tightened.
“And he will kill anyone who stands between him and what he thinks belongs to him.”
His forehead fell onto mine, his breathing rough, his voice trembling with adrenaline.
“Hale…”
His fingers dug into my hips.
“I will not let him take you.”
The storm outside screamed.
The house shook.
And for the first time I didn't know if Charles was the one protecting me from monsters…
Or the monster all the others were afraid of.
- Writer
