In The Sanctuary Of Strangers
In The Sanctuary Of Strangers
Chapter 45:
The man’s gaze flicked to me. For a second, his nostrils flared, not in disgust, more like curiosity. He nodded once. “Jason. Welcome to the Blackthorn Pack,” he said, quietly.
“Right,” I replied, offering a weak smile.
Jason didn’t react. He just turned to Damian. “The others are waiting.”
“Tell them they’ll wait longer,” Damian said. “She needs rest first.”
Jason hesitated but didn’t argue. He moved back into the house.
Damian gestured toward the door. “Inside.”
The interior was nothing like I expected. Warm light, the smell of wood smoke and spices, floors polished but worn enough to feel lived in. A fire crackled in the massive stone hearth at the center of the open room.
The walls were paneled with dark wood, with the ceilings high enough to make anyone feel small. One side of the wall was lined with framed photographs– portraits of people who all had the same proud eyes, the same sharp jawlines.
“Family?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“Generations,” he replied, catching my gaze.
Of course. His ancestors had probably built this place with their bare hands and a superiority complex. “Let me guess, they all had a habit of relocating women without permission?”
His mouth twitched. “Only the smart ones.”
I shot him a glare, but before I could make another sarcastic comment, a door to the left opened. A woman stepped in, she was striking- tall, regal, eyes like polished steel, with dark hair braided down her back and a face that could have cut glass.
She stopped when she saw me, her gaze sweeping over my form as she assessed me.
“This is her?” she asked Damian, not even bothering to hide the skepticism in her voice.
“This is Ivy,” he said evenly. “My mate.”
She nodded once, her expression unreadable. “The council will not be pleased.”
“They already aren’t,” he replied.
Her gaze returned to me. “You’re human.”
I blinked. “Last time I checked.”
A ghost of a smirk touched her lips, gone almost instantly. “Welcome to Blackthorn territory.”
“Thanks?” I said uncertainly, shifting uneasily.
She turned back to Damian. “I'll have someone prepare the east wing for her and bring her some fresh clothes, if that’s alright with you. I know it’s been sealed since–”
“Since my mother,” he finished for her.
Something flickered in her eyes, but she only nodded and walked away, silent as a ghost.
When she was gone, I exhaled. “Friendly bunch you’ve got.”
“They’ll warm up.”
“I’m sure.” I crossed my arms, scrubbing my foot on the floor, suddenly feeling very small. “So, what now? You lock me in a room until you decide the coast is clear?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he said simply.
“Damian!”
“Ivy.” His voice softened, and the way he said my name, low and deliberate — made my chest ache.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted. But I refuse to lose you. To them. And especially not to him.”
I swallowed. “Him. You mean Lucien?”
His jaw tightened. “He won’t stop… not until he gets you.”
I should’ve been terrified. Instead, all I felt was tired, and maybe a little out of my depth.
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him again. “You’ll be safe here. I swear it.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But from these past few days, safety in his world wasn’t simple. But I stared at him, needing to make a choice, which was worse: being trapped here or being out there alone. The silence stretched until…
“Fine,” I said finally, voice flat. “I’ll stay. But not because you told me to. It's mainly because, I don’t have a death wish.”
Something in his shoulders eased, barely. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He almost smiled at that. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
For a moment, we just stood there, the fire painting golden hues across his face. Then he motioned for me to follow him down a hallway lined with flickering sconces.
At the end of the hall, he stopped before a double door and pushed it open.
“This will be yours,” he said quietly.
I stopped short at the sight.
The room was something out of a movie. Old wood, high ceilings, tall windows draped in white linen, a four poster bed with a carved headboard, and a balcony that overlooked the forest. Candles burned low on the dresser, filling the air with the faint scent of vanilla.
I stepped inside slowly, brushing my fingers over the smooth railing of the bed. “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
I turned around slowly, taking it all in. “This is too much.”
“It’s not enough,” he said.
“Damian, I can’t just live here. What am I supposed to do? Wander around while your people sniff me like a new pet?”
Something flickered in his expression, pain, maybe. “You’ll adjust.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You belong here.”
He took a step forward, but I raised a hand. “Don’t. Please. Just give me a minute.”
He stopped.
For once, he didn’t argue. He just nodded. “There’s food downstairs if you want it. I’ll be outside.”
“Outside doing what?”
“Making sure we weren’t followed.”
I almost laughed. “Right. Because that’s normal.”
“The most important thing to me now, is that I keep you safe.”
“I don’t belong here,” I said softly. “You know that.”
“You do now,” he said, the words gentle but unyielding.
I turned toward the balcony, swallowing hard. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
His answer came quieter, almost lost to the crackle of the fire. “I’m not trying to. I’m just keeping you alive long enough for you to hate me properly.”
That should’ve made me angry, but all I felt was tired.
“Goodnight, Damian.”
He lingered for a moment longer, eyes tracing my face like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Then he turned and left, the door clicking softly behind him.