Chapter 39 He found them coming from Seth's house
Celine’s POV
Lila hadn’t said a word since we left Seth’s house, but her hand refused to let go of mine. Her silence pressed harder than any warning she could have given.
I knew she had thoughts—too many of them—but she buried them under her breath, maybe afraid that if she spoke, the night would swallow us whole. Or maybe she didn’t want to start another lecture about how nothing Tristan said could ever be trusted.
Then, her grip tightened. “Stop.”
My feet froze.
“Tristan?” I whispered, before my voice could steady.
He stood at the palace entrance, framed by moonlight like a vision waiting for its prey. His eyes—cold, knowing—rested on us as though he’d known exactly when we’d arrive. The air thinned. My spine prickled with dread.
A cold chill crawled up my spine. My legs were freezing. Lila’s hand tightened around mine.
“Let’s turn back,” I muttered.
She shook her head. “He’s already watching us.”
And his eyes on us… it was the same intense gaze as the first time he met me in my room — or even greater. At that moment, I could feel his gaze on my skin, like fingertips tracing over it. But the feeling that came with it was beyond a sense of familiarity.
I couldn’t name it, but my legs had moved past freezing to shaking.
“Let’s… let’s walk to him,” Lila whispered, almost inaudibly.
And we did.
Just a few steps away from him, I stopped.
“Celine,” he called.
My eyes fell on his clothes. Blood. He was stained with blood — his shirt, his trousers. Tiny splashes covered the exposed part of his arms. The moonlight was bright enough for me to see that.
But whose blood?
Lila dropped to her knees. “Alpha Tristan.”
He didn’t look at her.
“Celine,” he called again.
I almost stumbled.
He walked closer. What did he want?
What did he expect me to say to him? Start a long apology for going out of the palace at a late hour, without his permission, under the cover of darkness — as though I wanted to escape?
I couldn’t find any words.
But come to think of it… why didn’t I escape?
Lila hadn’t brought that up, considering how much she didn’t want me near Tristan — unless she had another thought in mind, something she’d been keeping from me.
I didn’t know that.
Tristan came too close, the scent of blood mixing with his — that familiar scent of rain on grass, only darker now.
I took a step back.
But he didn’t move closer. He averted his eyes, staring past me as though he hadn’t just been burning holes into me.
“Zara…” I muttered.
She’d been behind him, and I’d only just noticed.
Her gown was rumpled, and she kept following behind Tristan.
“Tristan! Stop!” she screamed.
She froze, then ran toward him.
Lila rose to her feet. Were we free? Just like that?
I couldn’t believe it. Not after committing this kind of crime.
We reached the door to my room. The gammas were outside. As we approached, they saw us — but they didn’t move. Strange.
The gammas stepped aside, and Lila followed me inside.
“He didn’t say a word,” I began.
“He called your name. Twice.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
She sat on the bed, hands resting on her thighs, eyes fixed downward. I lit the candle.
She was sweating. Maybe that was her answer to Tristan’s silence — that he was planning something dark. The blood on his clothes should’ve been enough of a warning.
“Lila?” I touched her shoulder.
“I don’t know what that means,” she said.
“You’re sweating, but the room’s cold.”
“Aren’t you?”
We were in the same boat.
“What do you think he’ll do to us?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I sat beside her.
My fingers found hers unsure which of us was shaking more.
“I don’t know,” she said, staring at the floor. “I never do. No one does.”
Her answer left a hollow space in the air. I waited for her to fill it, but she only sighed, the sound breaking somewhere between exhaustion and regret.
“The night he was expecting you,” she began quietly, “he told me to prepare this room for a prisoner.” Her words tightened, trembling under the weight of memory. “I didn’t know it would be you.”
My breath caught.
“I remember wondering,” she went on, cracking her knuckles, “why would he care so much for someone who wasn’t supposed to survive?”
I pulled my hand away slowly. The thought crept back—the possibility that Tristan had known I was his mate all along. But if he had… would he still have chained me here?
Lila’s eyes shimmered in the candlelight. “Then I saw it was you. My niece. The human meant to cure his curse.”
Her voice cracked as tears spilled down her cheeks, each one landing heavy, like drops of confession. I didn’t know whether to comfort her or recoil.
“There was nothing I could do to save you,” she whispered, “but Tristan… he changed everything.”
I swallowed, my throat burning. “Isn’t that fate?”
She laughed softly. “Fate.”
Her gaze drifted away. “You can’t predict Alpha Tristan. His choices change like the moon… and sometimes, they destroy everything in their path.”
Soon, perhaps after an hour, she left.
The candle I’d lit was still burning. I didn’t want to snuff it out. I thought I should get some sleep, but my eyes felt too dry, like water might help.
I splashed some on my face, but it didn’t.
Strange that I wasn’t sleepless from fear of what Tristan might do. It might still have been about him — but not fear.
I’d accepted he would act eventually, but I didn’t imagine it would harm me. I pictured him coming in here, giving me time to ask my questions.
I fell asleep. I didn’t put out the candle.
It must have been about an hour later — maybe less — when I heard footsteps outside the door. The gammas usually patrolled, their boots heavy on the floor.
But these footsteps woke me.
Then came a knock. Those restless gammas wouldn’t even let me rest without checking if I’d left.
The knock hadn’t even finished echoing when the door swung open.
“Celine.”
His voice cut through the quiet like a blade sliding through silk.
He stood in the doorway, bathed in the faint flicker of the candle I’d left burning. The shadows danced across his face—part man, part monster, and something in between. My heart stuttered painfully.
It couldn’t be real. But dreams never smelled like him—never carried that heavy mix of smoke, rain, and blood.
“Tristan?” I breathed, my voice trembling against the silence.