Chapter 2
1177 Words
Aria’s POV
I didn’t sleep at all.
The footsteps outside my door haunted me long after the sound was gone. By the time dawn came, I was still sitting upright in bed, staring at the fireplace until the embers turned cold.
At breakfast, the hall was quiet except for the sound of rain dripping from the roof. A long table stretched before me, covered with polished silver and steaming food. Yet only one place was set—mine.
Lucien Vale sat at the far end. His sleeves were rolled up, veins visible on his forearms as he read through a stack of papers. He didn’t look up when I entered.
“Good morning,” I said, unsure if I was supposed to sit before being told.
“Eat,” he replied. His voice was calm, but the air around him carried a weight that pressed against my skin.
I sat down and picked at the toast. My appetite was gone, replaced by curiosity and the ache of unease.
Finally, he glanced up. “You heard something last night.”
It wasn’t a question.
I froze. “Yes. Footsteps. And a sound. Like...”
“A growl?” he finished.
My lips parted, but no words came.
His gaze softened just slightly. “You don’t need to be afraid. This territory is old. The mountains have their own voices. But you must follow my rules if you wish to stay unharmed.”
His words were steady, protective even, but there was something beneath them, a tension that spoke of a danger he didn’t want to name.
I nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“You don’t,” he murmured. “Not yet.”
Before I could respond, another voice broke through the silence.
“Well, well. The new tutor survives her first night.”
A man leaned lazily against the doorway. Blond hair fell into his eyes, a small scar tracing his jaw. His blue gaze flicked over me with quiet curiosity.
Lucien sighed. “Cassian.”
Cassian Vale gave his brother a brief nod before turning to me. “You must be Aria. I’m sorry for the cold welcome. The Hall tends to swallow people whole before we remember to feed them.”
His tone carried warmth that Lucien’s never did, and I found myself smiling in spite of everything.
Lucien’s jaw tightened. “You have patrol duties.”
“I was dismissed an hour ago,” Cassian said easily. “Thought I’d meet the guest.”
Guest. Not employee. The choice of word lingered in my mind.
Lucien pushed back his chair. “Finish your meal, Miss Morell. Then find Elara in the library. Cassian will show you the way.”
Without waiting for a reply, he walked out. His steps were controlled, deliberate, but I felt the pull he left behind, like gravity itself bent toward him.
Cassian waited until his brother was gone before speaking again. “Don’t mind him. Lucien’s…in particular. The house doesn’t see many outsiders.”
“I gathered that,” I said quietly.
He smiled faintly. “Still, I’m surprised he let you come here at all.”
“What do you mean?”
Cassian hesitated, studying me as though weighing whether to say more. “He doesn’t hire people he can’t control.”
My stomach tightened. “And you think I’m someone he can’t control?”
His smile deepened, not unkindly. “We’ll see.”
He led me through winding corridors, their stone walls lit by pale morning light. Paintings of wolves and ancient battles lined the halls. Every few steps, I caught faint scratches on the floors—marks that looked too deep to be human.
We reached a tall door carved with moon symbols. Cassian opened it, revealing a library larger than any I had ever seen.
Elara sat by the window, surrounded by open books. Her dark curls framed her small face, and when she looked up, her green eyes were wide and curious.
“You’re my teacher?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” I said, forcing a smile. “My name is Aria.”
“I dreamed about you,” she said. “Before you came.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Elara…”
She shrugged. “It’s true. The moon showed me. You were crying in the dream.”
I blinked, unsure what to say. Cassian only sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Elara’s dreams can be strange,” he said quietly.
“Not strange,” she murmured. “True.”
I knelt beside her. “What did the moon tell you, Elara?”
She leaned closer. “That you’d change everything.”
The words lingered in the air. Cassian’s expression darkened slightly, but he said nothing.
We spent the morning reading. Elara was bright, eager, and far too perceptive for a child. Every time she smiled, something inside me softened. For the first time in months, I felt… useful.
When the clock struck noon, Cassian returned to escort me to lunch. But as we walked, a low whistle echoed down the hall.
“Well, if it isn’t the new pet.”
A man stepped out from a side corridor, his golden hair tousled, a tattoo winding down his arm. His amber eyes gleamed with amusement.
Cassian groaned. “Darius. Don’t start.”
“Relax, brother.” Darius grinned at me. “You must be the tutor. The one Lucien brought home like some secret treasure.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I’m just here to teach.”
“Is that what they told you?” He stepped closer, his presence hot and dangerous. “You’ll find that nothing in this house is ever just anything.”
“Darius,” Cassian warned.
But Darius only chuckled, brushing past him. As he did, his fingers grazed my wrist, a touch so brief it might’ve been accidental. Except it wasn’t.
My skin burned where he touched me.
He leaned in, his voice low. “Be careful, little human. Curiosity kills faster than claws here.”
Then he was gone, whistling down the hall like nothing had happened.
Cassian sighed. “Don’t let him scare you. Darius feeds on reactions.”
But as we walked on, I couldn’t shake the warmth where his hand had brushed mine. Nor could I forget the flicker of something wild in Lucien’s eyes that morning, like he already knew what Darius might do.
By evening, the rain had stopped. I returned to my room and stood by the window, staring at the mist that clung to the forest. Somewhere far below, a howl rose through the twilight.
Then another.
And another. Closer.
I pressed my hand to the glass. My wrist tingled, faintly glowing under the moonlight.
The same crescent shape Lucien wore on the ring around his finger.
The same one from Elara’s dream.
Something inside me whispered a truth I wasn’t ready to hear.
Whatever lived inside Blackthorn Hall was not just darkness. It was fate and I had just stepped straight into its heart.
- Writer
