Shadows Between Us

Shadows Between Us
Chapter 16
Shadows Between Us

The night seemed to last forever.

The moonlight was drawn taut on marble floors, silver and chilly as the recollection of something which had once been warm. I sat on the window, gazing at the pale reflection of my face — pale, tired, and unsure of who I was anymore. Somewhere in this house, behind walls too dense for one to listen through, Ronan was probably explaining them again why I was there.

Or maybe he wasn't saying anything to them.

Maybe he was agreeing with them.

I pressed my fingers on the glass and watched the mist spread out under my fingers. Every time I exhaled, the surface fogged up, like the world itself was refusing to become clear. That's what it was like — being here. Blurred. Forgotten. Half-alive.

The echo of the day lingered in my head: their voices, the acerbic tone of questioning, and Ronan's calm lies. He'd informed me that I worked for him. Nothing more.

I wanted to believe he spoke to protect me.
I wanted to believe there was an ulterior motive.
But the more I thought about it, the more it felt a knife hidden behind polite words.

And yet. a part of me held out for him.

I couldn't sleep. I kept blinking and imagining their faces again — the accusatory, cold eyes of the folks who thought that I didn't fit in here. Maybe they were right. Maybe I really didn't.

But Ronan's words tormented me more than anything they'd ever said to me.

"Nothing but a servant."

The memory of it echoed more loudly in my ears than the silence around me.

I sat up, pulling the blanket over me, but that didn't help. The room air was cold, almost biting, that which nipped when you breathed in.

And then. I felt it.

That familiar heaviness. That which told me there was someone there.

I remained still.

The faintest of noises — a step outside my door. Stealthy, cautious, but distinct.

My breath caught in my throat. I looked at the door, the shadows reaching long across it.

No one came. No one called out. Only silence — a breathing, living silence.

He was here. I was certain of it.

Ronan.

My heart began to pound. Why was he here? What did he want now, after all that had happened?

I rose slowly, my bare feet on the cold stone ground. Each move towards the door felt heavier than the last. I didn't push it open. I didn't even dare utter his name.

Instead, I leaned my forehead against the wooden part, the sole divide between us.

Why do you do this?" I breathed so quietly I wasn't certain if I spoke out loud. "Why do you hold me back if I always cause you issues?"

There was no reply. Only the soft movement of air on the other side.

I felt it — the draw between us. Unseen but strong. It was maddening, the way silence could be louder than speech.

Part of me ached to open the door and challenge him. To scream, to demand to know, to beg for truth. But the other part. the part that still remembered the pain, the shame, the fear — that part reminded me to keep quiet.

He was the Alpha.
And I was the mistake he could not accept.

Moments passed. Maybe hours.

He still did not leave.

I didn't know why, but the air thickened the longer he stayed. As if each unsaid word between us was against the walls, begging to escape.

I carefully lowered myself down to the floor, my back pressed against the door. My hands trembled in my lap. My heart was too big.

"I can't do it," I whispered into the darkness. "I can't keep wondering what you really want."

Still nothing.

My neck burned with rage.

"You tell them one thing and me something else," I snarled, my voice shaking. "You protect me as if I am something, but when they try to find out who I am, you dismiss me. Do you know how it feels?"

The silence was suffocating.

And then, not meaning to — without even realizing he was there — I exhaled the words that had burned in my chest ever since I knew his lie:

"If you're going to lie about me… stop acting like you care."

The moment the words left my mouth, the air changed. It was frigid, heavy. My heart plummeted because I realized immediately.

He was there.

I didn't have to glance at him to realize he'd heard it. I knew it hurt, my eyes smarting, my throat tightening. Anger and shame curled inside me, burning my chest.

I pressed my hand against the wood and trembled. I wanted to pull it away, to say something else — anything — but I couldn't. The words had already been said.

And then, slowly, the heat on the other side of the door started to fade.

His presence vanished.

The echo of his footsteps faded down the corridor, into the infinite emptiness of the house.

When at last I lifted my head, the air on the other side of the door was empty. He'd vanished.

And though I had wanted him gone. something inside me shattered when I realized he truly was.

I closed my eyes, pressing my hand where I’d felt his presence just moments ago. The wood was cold now. So was I.

Somewhere deep in the mansion, a door slammed — a sound that carried through the halls like the breaking of something that would never be whole again.