318- Dawn with a Stranger
POV Seraphine Valerian:
The terror mixed with something else that immobilized me from head to toe. I didn’t blink. I lost all sense.
“Your fear is so real that I almost believe you didn’t know we existed. Interesting. Look at me.”
I tried not to breathe. That scent disoriented me. His proximity too. It was as if this had happened before, and I remembered my dreams of the faceless man. The sensations of fear and desire.
I raised my face slowly. His broad collarbone, strong neck, pale skin. Well-defined chin and jaw, full lips. Straight nose, angles and contours, up to his eyes. I froze from head to toe, then burned, dizzy, trapped.
His eyes were no longer black. They shone like an animal’s in the dark—golden, vivid. Like the black wolf my father saw. Like in my dreams of almost a lifetime.
It was happening. It was real.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The fear, the pain, the confusion. When the air failed and darkness came, I threw myself into it.
It was a relief to lose consciousness.
(...)
POV Viktor Averwyn:
"Who is she, Father?"
Adelina stopped beside me, surprised. Her gaze fixed on the redhead passed out in my bed.
I had watched the dawn break, sitting in the armchair while the unconscious woman remained motionless on my sheets. Humans were too weak, both physically and emotionally. She couldn't handle the pressure.
I had thought a lot about her reaction, about what she said. But I still needed to understand better.
"Her name is Seraphine. A Romani gypsy."
"But... how did she end up here? And all that blood on her clothes? Did you...?"
She blinked at me, nervous. I didn't even answer, because at that moment the bedroom door opened and Daciana entered with the wind, her face terrified.
"Where is she? The guard told me you wanted to see me, that there was a human here! Oh, Lord! It's true!" She brought both hands to her chest, shocked. "Viktor! Again? Another one for the cemetery? Oh, no!"
"She's alive." The youngest lowered her voice: "And she's waking up."
The woman stirred in the bed, perhaps roused by Daciana's shouting. The latter fell silent, curious and worried, unsure whether to look at her or at me. Craving answers.
She had accompanied almost my entire history—the women I had brought to the castle, the ones who lived happily with me until they died. Some in that very bed. And the last one, the traitor. After fifty years, she thought it wouldn't happen again.
I fixed my gaze on Seraphine when she woke up. This time she wasn't slow or lost. She sat up with a start, her look one of terror, already shrinking into a corner of the wide headboard as she faced me and the other two.
She gasped, her light green eyes fleeing from mine, her tremors evident.
"Adelina will lend you some clothes. Daciana will take you to eat something in the kitchen. Take a shower, wash off that blood. When you return, we'll have another conversation."
I spoke harshly, and finally, she met my eyes. She was indeed a fragile little thing; a breath and she'd glue herself to the wall. There, curled up, she was all eyes and hair, curls everywhere. She swallowed hard, mute.
I adjusted my black jacket, already dressed for my day's obligations after a morning shower. I stared at the other two:
"Keep an eye on her."
"Viktor, but is she a prisoner or..." Daciana began, her gaze passing over the girl with a certain pity. "Poor thing, all bruised. Did you do this to the girl?"
There was no point in giving explanations at that moment. It might even be good if the redhead thought that and shit herself with fear of me. That would keep her from doing anything stupid.
"If she tries anything, call the guard to lock her in here. And call me. She only leaves this room in your company."
"Father..." Adelina followed me as I headed for the door. "But we don't know anything!"
"I'll be back for lunch. I'm busy now."
I left, without looking back. Irritated, nervous. Mainly because of her scent, impregnated in every corner of my suite. And still mixed with Konrad's stench.
I had expected signs from him that morning. Maybe a call from one of the alphas or the Elders, for another meeting. The atmosphere was heating up, growing increasingly tense. I should be prepared.
I had a lot of work to do, decisions to make. At that moment, I just needed to get away from the woman.
And at least breathe in peace.
(...)
POV Seraphine Valerian:
Viktor. Father.
I heard how they referred to him. How could he be the father of a woman in her twenties if he looked about thirty-five? I remembered what he said. I am 413 years old.
I remained curled up. Maybe that was a lie or an exaggeration. So desperately insane that my rational mind screamed. Werewolf. It couldn’t be! But what other explanation was there?
“Are you in pain?”
The older woman approached the bed, and I shrank back. She stopped. She seemed harmless, a woman a little over fifty. Large, sturdy, hair streaked with gray pulled back, fair skin. She wore a colorful apron.
“What madness my father has gotten into!” The beautiful young woman returned, stopping beside the other. She was slim, tall, with long dark hair in waves, soft brown skin. “Your name is Seraphine? I’m Adelina, Viktor’s daughter. And this is Daciana. She’s like a mother to me.”
My fear still paralyzed me, but I nodded. They exchanged glances. The older woman pointed to a side door:
“That’s the bathroom. You can take a shower. There are clean towels in the drawer and toothbrushes in their packages—choose one. We’ll separate some clothes for you to wear. After that, you’ll eat. You lost a lot of blood—look at your nightgown. Where were you hurt? I don’t see a wound.”
“Father must have healed her.”
“True. It’s swollen there, on her forehead.”
Surprised, I slowly raised my hand and touched my face. One entire side hurt, sensitive. I felt the swelling and the scratches. But the place where I had hit the trunk, where I felt it split open and bleed, was smooth. No cut at all.
How? He healed me? That fast?
I swallowed hard, more and more shocked by that reality.
I wanted to run back to Cologne, throw myself into my aunt’s arms, and never leave again. I hadn’t even had time to mourn my father, to think. It was a mad, terrifying carousel.
“Come, girl. We’re not going to hurt you. Do you want help getting up?”
My bladder felt like it was about to burst. I would have given anything for a hot shower, something to ease me. But I feared them.
I shook my head and began to slide toward the edge of the mattress.
Without taking my eyes off them. The older woman smiled kindly at me