Stella’s fingers tightened around Theo’s head, her nails digging slightly into his soft hair.
He stopped mid-action, his breath hitching. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now wide and questioning. “Why?” he whispered, the word barely audible above the frantic thump-thump-thump of Stella’s own heart.
“I can’t,” she managed, her voice trembling. Shame burned in her cheeks, a hot flush spreading across her skin. She averted her gaze, focusing instead on the rumpled sheets, the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric.
Theo nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. He rose from the bed, the mattress groaning softly under his weight, and disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
Stella smoothed down her dress, the silk cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered within her. She sat on the edge of the bed, the crisp white linen a jarring contrast to the turmoil in her soul.
Theo’s room was impeccably tidy, almost sterile in its orderliness a reflection of his personality, she thought, a stark contrast to the chaos she felt inside.
“You can leave if you want,” Theo’s voice cut through the silence, his words muffled by the bathroom door.
Stella stood, her legs unsteady. She fled his room, the doorknob cold beneath her fingers. “Gosh,” she breathed, running a hand through her hair, attempting to tame the unruly strands.
The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before her.
“How was it?”
The question startled her. Brandon sat on the couch, his posture relaxed, a smirk playing on his lips. The casualness of his demeanor was unsettling.
“You’re still here?” she asked, her voice sharp with surprise.
Brandon nodded, his eyes unwavering. “I’m asking you,” He repeated, his voice low and dangerous. He rose, his movements deliberate, and stepped towards her, his presence looming over her like a storm cloud. “How was it?”
Stella stumbled back, confusion warring with a rising tide of panic. “What are you talking about?” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
“I saw you kissing him,” Brandon said, his voice laced with accusation.
Stella couldn’t speak, her mind reeling. She shook her head, a silent denial. “You should leave now,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible.
She tried to sidestep him, but he caught her arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “Talk to me, Stella,” Brandon demanded, his eyes burning into hers, a fierce possessiveness in their depths.
Stella’s voice trembled, laced with a desperate plea. “You’re drunk, let me go!” She tugged at his hand, the rough fabric of his shirt scraping against her skin, a jarring sensation against the frantic beating of her heart.
His grip, however, remained firm, unyielding. His eyes, dark and intense, bored into hers. “Do you like him now?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, the words heavy with accusation.
“Stop, Brandon!” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper, the words lost in the rising tide of her fear.
“Answer me, Stella!” he insisted, his face flushed a deep crimson, the anger simmering beneath the surface of his intoxication. The veins in his neck pulsed visibly.
“You need to leave!” she tried again, her voice rising slightly in desperation.
He shook his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “I know what I’m saying, Stella! I’m not drunk!” The intensity in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice, silenced her. His words, though laced with alcohol, held a chilling clarity.
She couldn’t find the words to argue, to deny, to explain. She was trapped, caught in the suffocating grip of his gaze, his unspoken accusations.
A long, heavy silence stretched between them, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a nearby clock, each tick a hammer blow against her already fragile composure.
Finally, she made a move, a silent decision made in the depths of her weary soul. “I will sleep now,” she said, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. With a final, determined tug, she freed her arm from his grasp.
Brandon said nothing, only nodded his head, the movement slow and deliberate, before turning and leaving the house, the door clicking shut behind him like a final judgment.
Stella slipped into her room, the familiar scent of lavender and chamomile a small comfort in the storm raging within her.
Flora slept soundly, nestled against Tyros, their peaceful slumber a stark contrast to the turmoil in Stella’s heart.
Quietly, she grabbed a pillow, the soft cotton a small solace in the harsh reality of her situation.
“Are you going to sleep in the living room?” Theo’s voice startled her.
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. “Yeah, I’ll be fine here,” she managed, her voice barely a breath.
Theo followed her into the living room, the soft glow of the moon painting long shadows across the floor. “You can sleep in my room, and I’ll sleep here,” he offered, his voice gentle, concerned.
“Nah-” she began, but he cut her off, his voice firm but not unkind.
“Stella, just listen to me!” His words were gentle, but his tone brooked no argument.
She had no choice but to comply. She nodded, her exhaustion finally winning out over her resistance. She walked into his room, the familiar scent of his cologne a strange comfort in the aftermath of the emotional turmoil she had just endured.
“I’ll just get a pillow,” Theo said, his voice soft.
Without a word, Stella handed him the pillow she carried.
Theo accepted the pillow, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft, a gentle contrast to the events of the previous night.
Stella nodded, a silent acknowledgment of their unspoken understanding.
“Good night,” he added, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned and walked into the living room, the soft click of the door echoing in the stillness of the house.
Stella sank into Theo’s bed, the plush mattress enveloping her like a warm embrace. The crisp, clean sheets smelled faintly of lavender, a calming scent that helped soothe her frayed nerves. “I guess everything will be fine tomorrow,” she whispered to herself, the words a fragile hope against the backdrop of the uncertainty that still lingered. She closed her eyes, exhaustion finally claiming her, and drifted into a restless sleep.
The next morning, a soft sound near her bed roused her. She opened her eyes, the sunlight filtering through the curtains painting the room in a soft, golden glow.
Theo was there, already awake, changing his shirt, his movements fluid and graceful. He glanced at her, a fleeting smile touching his lips before he left the room, the door closing softly behind him.
“Where is he going?” she wondered aloud, her voice thick with sleep. She sat up, the crisp sheets cool against her skin. The realization that she had slept in Theo’s room washed over her, a quiet warmth spreading through her chest. She stood, stretching languidly, and walked towards the door just as it opened.
“Good morning!” Theo greeted her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.
“Good morning!” she replied, her own smile mirroring his.
“Breakfast?” he asked, his voice a soft invitation.
“I will cook-” she began, but he interrupted her gently.
“Flora’s already cooked breakfast,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring.
Stella nodded, a sense of relief washing over her. She left his room, the comforting scent of bacon and coffee already wafting from the kitchen. She entered the kitchen to find Flora, her face pale and drawn. “Hey!” Stella greeted her, her voice bright.
“Dang! I’m glad you’re awake,” Flora exclaimed, her voice tinged with relief. She stopped what she was doing, turning to face Stella.
“Why?” Stella asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Hangover!” Flora groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. A small, rueful smile played on her lips.
“It’s part of our life now!” Stella laughed, her voice light and teasing.
“You’re just teasing me because I’m weak with alcohol,” Flora retorted, a playful pout on her lips.
Stella chuckled, unable to resist the lighthearted banter. “I didn’t say anything like that!” She retorted, her voice sharp with indignation. The words felt like a flimsy shield against the wave of embarrassment that washed over her. She fled to her room, the slam of the door echoing her inner turmoil.
The bathroom offered a brief respite, the cool water against her skin a small comfort. The minty sting of mouthwash momentarily masked the bitter taste of humiliation as she gargled, the familiar routine a grounding force in the chaos of her emotions.
Flora’s voice broke through her self-imposed isolation. “Let’s eat now!”
Stella emerged from the bathroom, the scent of the mouthwash clinging to her, and followed Flora into the dining area.
Tyros and Theo were already seated at the table, their presence a comforting normalcy in the aftermath of the previous night’s events.
“Let’s eat!” Theo announced, his voice cheerful, attempting to break the lingering tension.
They began to eat, the clinking of cutlery and murmur of conversation a fragile attempt to restore a sense of order.
After breakfast, Stella remained in the kitchen, helping Flora with the dishes, the repetitive task a welcome distraction from the turmoil within.
The rhythmic swish of the sponge against the plates provided a soothing counterpoint to the unsettling silence.
Flora, however, broke the quietude, her voice soft but direct. “What happened last night? I heard Brandon left without saying a word to Tyros.”
Stella froze, the sponge slipping from her grasp. She looked away, her gaze fixed on the soapy water swirling in the sink. “I don’t know, maybe he was too drunk to say goodbye,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible, a flimsy excuse masking the truth.
“Come on, Stella! Tell me the truth!” Flora insisted, her voice gentle but firm.
Stella took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs, a momentary reprieve before she faced the inevitable. “Fine!” she conceded, her voice strained. “Brandon saw me and Theo kissing.”
Flora’s eyes widened in surprise. “Where?” she asked, her voice sharp with curiosity.
“In the living room!” Stella replied, rolling her eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation in her tone.
“Dang!” Flora exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief, a mixture of shock and amusement in her expression.
“You’re getting brave now, huh!” Flora teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips.
The easy banter helped to lighten the mood, the tension from earlier subtly easing. They finished the dishes, the rhythmic clinking of plates and glasses a soothing counterpoint to their conversation.
Stepping out of the house, they ventured into the woods, the sunlight dappling through the leaves, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor.
“What did he do?” Flora asked, her voice low, a hint of concern in her tone as they walked along the winding path.
“Who?” Stella asked, feigning ignorance, her heart quickening slightly.
“Brandon, of course!” Flora replied, her eyes fixed on Stella’s face, searching for any sign of deception.
“Nothing!” Stella answered, her voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.
Flora’s gaze intensified, her expression questioning. “Seriously?” she pressed, her tone gentle but firm.
Stella took a deep breath, the crisp forest air filling her lungs, a momentary respite before she had to face the truth, or at least, her version of it. “He didn’t say anything about it,” She replied, her voice carefully measured, trying to sound unconcerned.
Flora’s eyes remained fixed on her, her expression unreadable, a silent challenge hanging in the air between them. “You’re telling me the truth, huh?” She asked again, her voice soft, but the question held a weight that belied its gentleness.
Stella nodded, her gaze unwavering, a silent affirmation of her words. “Of course, I’m telling the truth,” she said, her voice firm, a touch of defiance creeping into her tone.
They reached the heart of the woods, the dense canopy overhead creating a cathedral-like atmosphere.
“I guess he’s starting to move on now,” Flora observed, her voice thoughtful.
Stella nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over her. “That’s good for him,” she said, her voice sincere, but the words hung in the air, a subtle acknowledgment of her own unresolved feelings.
Flora’s gaze shifted, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.
They lingered in the woods for a while, the quiet companionship a soothing balm to their souls. The gentle rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds filled the air, a tranquil soundtrack to their unspoken thoughts.
As lunchtime approached, Flora broke the silence. “Should we go back now?” she asked, her voice soft.
Stella nodded, her appetite returning. “Yeah! Let’s go!”
As they started back towards Stella’s house, a sudden sound startled them.
Tyros emerged from the garage, his appearance unexpected and slightly jarring.
“Let’s go home,” Flora announced, her voice regaining its usual cheerfulness.
“Yeah, my father’s looking for me,” Tyros replied, his tone a mixture of relief and apology.
Flora nodded, her eyes briefly meeting Stella’s before she turned to Tyros. She bid Stella a hasty goodbye, her voice warm and friendly.
“See you again soon!” Stella replied, waving as Flora and Tyros disappeared down the path, leaving Stella alone once more with her thoughts.
Flora and Tyros climbed into the car, the sleek lines of the vehicle gleaming in the sunlight.
As Tyros pulled away, the engine a low hum fading into the distance, Stella’s smile slowly dissolved, replaced by a quiet contemplation. The cheerful facade she’d maintained throughout the morning crumbled, leaving behind a residue of unspoken feelings.
Watching until their car disappeared from view, she let out a small sigh. “It’s just me and Theo now,” she murmured. Turning, she walked back into the house, the silence amplifying the quiet turmoil within her.
Theo’s voice, soft and gentle, broke through her reverie. “Do you want to grab lunch with me?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.
“Where? I can cook here!” she replied, her voice a little too brisk, her gaze deliberately avoiding his.
The casual offer felt laden with unspoken meaning, a subtle shift in their dynamic.
“My father invited us to the mansion,” Theo said, his words a quiet announcement that shifted the casual tone of their conversation.
The invitation, while seemingly simple, carried a weight of expectation, a subtle pressure that left Stella momentarily speechless. “I’ll just get ready,” she finally managed, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
Theo nodded, his expression calm, yet his eyes held a depth of emotion that she couldn’t quite decipher. “I’ll prepare myself as well,” he replied, his voice even and steady, before they both headed towards their respective rooms.
Stella retreated to the bathroom, her reflection staring back at her from the mirror. The image was familiar, yet somehow distant, as if she were observing a stranger. “That was so awkward,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the running water.
The lingering effects of the morning’s events played on her mind. “I shouldn’t show him that I feel that way,” she added, shaking her head, a determined set to her jaw.
The sound of running water filled the bathroom, a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil in her heart.
Humming softly, she immersed herself in the warmth of the bath, the steam a comforting shroud against the uncertainty that still lingered. “I need to be positive,” she murmured, repeating the mantra to herself as if to reinforce the sentiment.
Emerging from the bath, she began to dry her hair, her movements deliberate, her mind focused on the task at hand.
A knock on the door startled her. “Wait!” she called out, her voice slightly breathless, before hastily finishing her makeup, attempting to regain her composure.
Emerging from her room, she found Theo waiting patiently outside the door.
His eyes widened slightly as he took in her appearance. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice sincere, his gaze lingering on her for a moment.
A genuine smile, unforced and radiant, finally graced her lips. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice soft, her heart fluttering slightly.
Theo offered her his hand, his touch gentle, a silent promise of the afternoon to come, a subtle shift in their unspoken understanding.
They left their house, the familiar surroundings fading into the background as they settled into the car.
Theo turned the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life, a low hum that vibrated through the quiet interior.
Stella fastened her seatbelt, the familiar clicking a small sound in the larger context of their unspoken conversation.
Theo’s voice, soft and sincere, broke the silence. “I’m sorry for what I did last night,” he said, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, yet his tone conveyed a depth of remorse. “I didn’t mean to rush you with things you’re not ready for.” His apology resonated with a sincerity that Stella couldn’t ignore.
She turned to look at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights.
A serious mood settled between them, replacing the earlier tension with a shared vulnerability.
Stella nodded, “I’m sorry for not being ready-” she began, but Theo interrupted gently.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle. “It’s my fault, and I’m really sorry.” His words were a balm to her anxieties, a reassurance that eased the weight of her unspoken concerns.
Stella simply nodded, accepting his apology.
Theo began driving, the car smoothly gliding towards the imposing grandeur of the mansion.
Inside the mansion, Brandon emerged from his room, drawn by his father’s voice. “Dad!” he called, his voice echoing through the opulent halls. He searched for his father, the vastness of the mansion momentarily disorienting.
A maid appeared, her expression polite yet reserved. “He’s waiting for you in the garden,” she informed him, her voice barely a whisper.
“Thank you,” Brandon replied, his tone curt, before heading towards the main doors. He walked through the meticulously manicured gardens, the scent of roses heavy in the air, until he spotted his father standing near the ornate fountain, his figure silhouetted against the bright sunlight. “You were looking for me, Dad?” he asked, his voice direct, his tone lacking its usual playful banter.
“I called Theo and Stella for lunch,” Alpha Raven announced, his voice stern, his gaze unwavering. “You should behave; we’re going to discuss something important.”
“Discuss something? What is it?” Brandon asked, his curiosity piqued, yet a sense of unease settling in his stomach.
“Elder Remus and I will settle the date of Theo and Stella’s marriage,” Alpha Raven stated, his words dropping like stones into the still water of the fountain.
Brandon recoiled, his surprise evident in his immediate reaction. “What?” he exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief.
“Why? You looked stressed,” Alpha Raven observed, his tone a mixture of concern and authority.
“They’re not ready!” Brandon protested, his voice rising in intensity.
Alpha Raven placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, his touch firm but not unkind. “I’ve already talked to Theo, and he agreed,” He said, his voice unwavering.
Brandon shook his head, his frustration mounting. “How about Stella? Just give her the freedom to choose,” he pleaded, his gaze intense, his plea a desperate attempt to prevent a decision that felt premature and unjust.
Alpha Raven looked at his son, his expression unreadable. “Why are you so worked up?” He asked, his voice calm yet carrying an undercurrent of authority that silenced Brandon’s immediate complaints.
Brandon paused, his anger momentarily subdued by his father’s quiet command. “I just know her feelings,” he mumbled, his voice softer now, a hint of defeat in his tone. He turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped, his frustration evident in his retreating figure.
Alpha Raven watched him go, a mixture of exasperation and understanding in his gaze. He shook his head, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities of family dynamics.
Elder Remus arrived at the mansion, his presence instantly commanding attention. He moved with a quiet purpose, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he sought out Alpha Raven. “Everything’s ready now,” he announced, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience and authority.
Alpha Raven appeared, his expression composed, his demeanor conveying a quiet confidence.
Elder Remus nodded, a silent acknowledgment of their shared understanding. “Thank you, Alpha,” he said, his voice respectful, before they both headed towards the dining hall.
The dining table was already set, gleaming under the soft light, the aroma of exquisite food filling the air. The finest wines were already poured, awaiting their arrival.
“Where are they?” Alpha Raven asked his assistant, his voice betraying a hint of impatience.
“They’re on their way, sir,” the assistant replied, his voice respectful, yet a hint of nervousness in his tone.
Alpha Raven nodded, his gaze sweeping across the room, assessing the preparations.
Elder Remus, however, turned his attention to Alpha Raven. “How about Brandon, Alpha Raven?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze searching the room.
Alpha Raven met his gaze, his expression unwavering. “I’ve already talked to him, and he’ll never do anything to ruin our plan,” he stated, his voice firm, his confidence unshaken.
Elder Remus nodded, accepting his assurance, though a flicker of doubt crossed his face.
Unseen, unheard, Brandon overheard his father’s words, the assurance a bitter pill to swallow. “I will save her,” he muttered to himself, his jaw clenched, his determination hardening. The words were a silent vow, a promise whispered to himself in the quiet solitude of his own thoughts. He nodded, reinforcing his resolve.
But Tyros’ voice cut through his resolve, his presence a sudden and unwelcome intrusion. “Don’t,” He said, his voice low, his words a quiet warning.
Brandon spun around, his surprise evident in his immediate reaction. “What are you saying?” he demanded, his voice sharp, his anger flaring.
Tyros met his gaze, his expression unwavering. “Just let them be, Brandon,” he said, his voice laced with a weary sadness. “Your time with her is already over.”
“I will do everything-” Brandon began, his voice tight with determination, a fierce resolve burning in his eyes. He was about to make a desperate plea, a last-ditch effort to intervene, when Tyros’s voice cut through his words, sharp and decisive.
“Just stop, Brandon!” Tyros commanded, his tone brooking no argument. The interruption was abrupt, yet necessary, a timely intervention that prevented a potentially explosive confrontation.
Before Brandon could respond, a maid’s voice rang out, breaking the tense silence.
“They’re here!” she announced, her voice carrying a note of excitement that was at odds with the underlying tension.
Immediately, the household staff lined up, their posture stiff yet respectful, ready to greet their esteemed guests.
Stella walked beside Theo, her arm lightly brushing his, their steps synchronized, a subtle display of their connection.
As they entered the mansion, the grandeur of the surroundings momentarily eclipsed the weight of the impending conversation.
Alpha Raven greeted them with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and anticipation. “Nice to see you here,” he said, his voice cordial, yet his gaze lingered on Stella, a subtle assessment of her demeanor. “I hope you’re doing well, Stella,” he added, his tone genuinely concerned.
“Yes, Alpha Raven! I am doing well,” Stella replied, her voice steady, her smile a carefully constructed mask concealing her underlying anxiety. She returned his smile, her composure a testament to her inner strength.
They proceeded to the dining area, the air thick with anticipation.
Stella’s gaze fell upon her father, Elder Remus, his expression unreadable, his silence a stark contrast to the lively chatter around them. “I guess we’re going to talk about something,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, her words more of an observation than a question.
Elder Remus nodded subtly, his agreement silent yet unmistakable.
Alpha Raven, sensing the unspoken tension, addressed one of the maids. “Let’s eat now! Call Brandon and Tyros, please,” he instructed, his voice firm, his command clear and concise.
The maids, their movements efficient and silent, immediately set out to find Brandon and Tyros.
Upstairs, as they made their way towards the dining area, Tyros’s voice broke the silence. “Alpha Raven’s looking for us now,” he said, his tone a mixture of resignation and apprehension.
“I don’t care,” Brandon retorted, his voice laced with defiance, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.
They reached the top of the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway.
They encountered the maid who had been sent to summon them.
“We’re going now,” Brandon announced, his tone curt, his impatience evident.
They entered the dining area, taking their seats at the table, the tension palpable despite the cheerful facade. The meal began, the clinking of cutlery and murmured conversation a fragile veneer over the unspoken anxieties.
Alpha Raven, sensing the right moment, addressed them all, his voice firm. “We’re going to talk about something important,” he announced, his words hanging in the air, a prelude to a conversation that would irrevocably alter their lives.